DaylightDaddy [verified]: What are you doing to me?

You were waiting by your computer for the longest sixteen minutes of your life. That’s how long it took Harry to watch your less-than-ten-minute video and then text you back. Your heart, which was still flat on the floor of your stomach, leaps excitedly when it sees Harry’s message on your computer screen.

That message alone verified to you that DaylightDaddy was indeed Harry. Of course Harry would bring back his infamous saying at a time like this. You wanted to ditch the conversation on this website and text Harry personally. You also wanted to go to his house and pounce on him for being ridiculously attractive and vulnerable. You were an idiot by not saying anything yesterday and he was an idiot by being so blunt and angry. You both could have ruined not only your friendship but your chances at being something more by not talking. Communication is key, yet you’re still locked.

Why?

Maybe because somewhere in the dark crack of your heart, you’re terrified that you’ll be vulnerable to a man that’s six years older than you just for him to say that he doesn’t actually like you. He just likes your breasts and the idea of sleeping with you.

But that’s not Harry, right?

Without responding to his message, you grab your phone that has been forgotten on your floor. The second you sent that video to him you chucked it across the room and hoped for the best. It seems as though it worked, but at the same time, there is still so much unsaid with Harry. So many feelings you need to work out. But first, you need to talk and figure out how you both actually feel. Is it just lust? Is it just the fact that you two work together? Or is it something more?

Y/N: harry

He texts you almost simultaneously.

Harry: Y/N

Your fingers freeze at the keyboard. Even though you were just talking to him, how do you bring up such a serious conversation. We need to talk? Or I need to talk to you? They both sound bad.

Harry: Are you working today?

You and Harry both know damn well neither of you works. Him asking this question just seems like he’s continuing to avoid you, and avoid the inevitable conversation that you guys need to have. Did your video not spark a lightbulb in his head? How can he not tell that you do feel whatever he feels? Maybe even more…

Y/N: i am not, but i think you know that

Y/N: can we talk? are you busy?

You know he’s not busy, but that doesn’t make his reaction any scarier.

Harry: I’m free

Harry: Do you want to come over

It was one of the scariest texts he’s ever sent. After what just went down between you two, inviting you over could mean anything. It’s clear there’s a strong attraction connecting you both, but there is also a lot of murky water that needs to be cleaned.

Y/N: yes

Harry: Let me pick you up

That stubbornness inside of you that Harry is all too familiar with wanted to fight him. To tell him that you are more than capable of driving yourself, even though you only have Penny’s car for one more day. But him suggesting to pick you up showed his desperation to see you. And maybe that was a good thing. Maybe the forward action instead of the backing away was what you two needed.

Y/N: okay

Y/N: give me an hour!!

You needed time to think about it of course.

—

Within that hour, you were going crazy. You took a warm, hard-pressed shower in order to massage all the tension in your body and hopefully in your mind. You thought about every possible scenario about seven thousand times, hoping that you’d get it right. This time, you planned to say the right words and not stand there like a fucking statue when faced with his vulnerability. This time, you were going to be vulnerable too, because you’ve never had a chance at something more like this before. And you don’t want to ruin it just because you’re afraid. How lame is that?

While you were waiting for Harry to text you, you pace around the room. Your eyes averted to your computer that was still lying on your bed, and the only thing you could think about was your conversation with Harry. Not only had he called you attractive but he compared your beauty to everyone on the website and still said you were the most attractive. Was that just him flirting? Or was he being serious? You wondered if Harry really felt that way about you and you hoped you would find out soon.

On that thought, you never even checked if his money went through. You know the second that it does you’ll be giving it right back to him. So, while you’re still waiting, you open up your bank app on your phone. Even though you’re sitting on your bed now, your leg is still bouncing up and down, anxiety infiltrating your blood like the most insane drug.

When you finally comprehend the number that is present on your screen, your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. You blink a couple hundred times before briskly checking your most recent transactions. In neon green letters an extravagant $2000+ appears in front of you. Your hand jaggedly and slowly finds its way over your agape mouth, bewildered at Harry’s extreme act. What on earth would cause Harry to willingly send you that much money? Yes, you have complained about your financial situation, but you also clearly denied Harry of a loan. Now, you have to send his money back and it’s going to be really awkward. Another thing you have to add to your list of “Things to Talk Through with Harry”. Just as you close the app, Harry texts you that he’s at your place.

–

“Hey,” You manage to cough out as you slide nervously into his passenger seat.

“Hey,” Harry replies with a thick swallow. His grip on the steering wheel changes from intense to loose every few seconds before he starts the car.

There’s a low hum on the radio along with his air conditioning blowing cool air towards you. But other than that, no one had said a word. You peek over the dashboard a few times to see the road, wondering how far Harry lives from you and how quickly you can get out of this car. You hoped when you got to his house that this unbreathable, anxious tension would have died down, so you two can finally sort this shit out.

As a few more minutes pass by, you realize that you hate this. You hate the awkward silence that’s dawning over your friendship and making you overthink every single word. It’s never been like this with Harry, ever. You’ve never had to second-guess your late-night conversations and he never had to restrain his friendly charm. This, this tension, is unlike both of you.

You have to talk. Maybe you should mention the money?

“I know y’want to say something. Just say it, please, I can’t stand this awkwardness,” Harry blurts out as he stops at a red light. You inhale and blink, suddenly feeling a bit more alive with the sound of his voice.

“I looked at my bank,” You said, looking down at your lap. You were already being shy and you haven’t even got to the actual vulnerable stuff yet. What is wrong with you?

“Have you?”

“Yeah, and I saw the money you gave me.”

“Good.”

“Harry, you know I can’t take that,” Now, you turn your head towards his, which is safely facing the road. But you know he sees you and you know he’s stressed with your stubbornness.

“But you already did. It’s in your account, yeah?”

“Okay, but–”

“I don’t understand why you won’t take my money. Is it not good enough for you or somethin’?” Harry’s voice has become more agitated, making his last turn a bit sharper. You see him take a deep breath as he pulls into a driveway of a nice house. It was nice because the lawn was green and cut and the color of its walls were a pleasant cream color with a smooth navy blue as its border. It wasn’t the biggest house ever, but Harry was more practical than that. He didn’t need some huge, showy house in order to seem cool. Harry was already cool, whether he knew it or not.

“All money is the same, you doy.”

“You didn’t want it when I said I could loan it to you. Then I found a way to give it to you because you earned it and you still won’t take it. How does that make sense?”

“That’s different!”

“How is that different?”

“You of all people should know!”

Harry groans out of frustration and gets out of the car. “Let’s just get in the house.”

You follow suit, shutting the car door a little more roughly than you thought. Before you know it, you’re in his house and it’s just so Harry. His furniture is smooth; all browns and woods. He had pictures of his family scattered along with abstract art. By his decently sized television is a large record player next to an impressive case of vinyls. He even has a miniature bookshelf full of books that would probably bore you, but it still fascinates you.

“What, have you never seen a house before?”

“Don’t get all snappy with me. We were supposed to talk.”

“You make it difficult.”

“Why? Because I won’t take your money?”

“That doesn’t help,” he crosses his arms before dropping to sit on his couch. Again, you follow him, but keep your distance. You don’t miss the way his house smells just like him; a homey breeze of fresh air with a sprinkle of nature. It was earthly and friendly and charming. Just like him. “But it’s your stubbornness.”

To be fair, your stubbornness is one of Harry’s favorite traits about you. But it’s also the one that gets under his skin the most. He admires the way you can stand up for yourself and you know how to get exactly what you want. But he’s noticed that your need for independence interferes with your other desires.

“I can’t help it. I was born to fight,” You sighed out, lying against the couch cushions. “At least that’s what my dad always says.”

“I don’t want to fight, Honey,” The new nickname has rows of shivers cascading your skin. You feel a tingle in your stomach that you get when he says something charming or flirtatious. It’s impossible to fight the butterflies and heart pulses he gives you.

“Me either,” You take a deep breath, just like you did in the shower and just like Harry did in the car. This was your time to be vulnerable, to be first. You wanted to show Harry that you cared and that you weren’t just being stubborn to be annoying. You loved when you guys would close together, even if you consistently told him you would do it yourself. You loved the late-night talks you would have while cleaning up the bar, talking about anything and everything in order to waste time. You were endeared that Harry always walked you to your car in the early morning after the doors were locked just to make sure you were safe. You missed the way his hands felt on your arms when he caught you and the feeling of his chest pressed closely to yours. Friends don’t crave like that. No, because you weren’t friends. You were more and you both knew it. You cared about him and you appreciated his care for you. Shit, you freaking liked him and it took you both revealing your secret identities to prove it. Even if you two haven’t technically talked about it.

“H…”

“Y/N.”

“Everything you told me that night. Was it true?”

There was a weighted beat. One that was long and heavy enough to shatter the earth.

“Yes, of course it was. Why would I lie about that?”

“I don’t–” You turned to face him. “I’m not…good at this stuff. I don’t randomly hook up with people or go on dates. I especially don’t go to their house after sending them a video of me orgasming to confess my feelings to them.”

Harry blinks. He didn’t think you would mention it so vulgarly, but maybe he doesn’t know you like he thought he did. But he would like to. He doesn’t sound like you’re accusing him of doing those things, more of just you warning him about yourself. Harry does extract the little hint of your words and uses them to interrogate you.

“Feelings. What feelings?”

“Well, currently I’m frustrated–”

“Y/N,” his voice of seriousness causes your eyes to drop into your lap. You fiddle with your thumbs like a nervous kindergartener on their first day of school. It wasn’t like you to get so shy. You were a bartender for a living; you couldn’t be shy. But you just haven’t reserved these types of feelings for someone in so long it feels foreign. It feels as though you’re stretching outside of your comfortable zone and forcing you to be sheepish with your eyes down.

“Fine. I like…our friendship. A lot. But this week made me realize that I want more than that. With you,” You peer up at him through your eyelids, hoping not to see his face cringe with disgust at your words. But Harry’s face is flattened straight with nothing but the intent of listening. He even has a sparkle of softness in his eyes that makes your heart lurch out to him. He cared, and it showed in his features. Your mom always told you that people’s real emotions were always revealed on their face, and it was written like a love letter over his.

His patient silence makes you want to fill it with some type of conversation due to the uncomfortableness with your sudden vulnerability. Skittishly, you swallow in an attempt to coat your dry throat. “But I haven’t got much further than that. I know that I’m attracted to you. I mean, fuck, you saw the video, right? I probably didn’t even need the bullet–what did I just say? That’s not what I wanted to say. I wanted to say that I don’t want this to just be an attraction because I don’t think I could handle that. That felt good to say. I think I’ve said “say” too much and now it sounds weird…”

“I feel that way too,” he replies, the smallest curve of his lip breaking the straight line. He adores the way you rant when you're nervous, it is now a new thing he is adding to his list. He loves making you nervous because you give him little details about yourself. “Thank you for finally getting the balls to tell me. Took you long enough.”

You didn’t expect him to say that. You didn’t practice that in the shower! “Me?! You were the one who was avoiding me!” You were shouting, but it was all fun now. A laugh followed as a bright smile crept on your face. Something like a weight felt lifted off your shoulders, off your chest.

“But who said something first?”

“You said you liked my breasts and that you get jealous easily. Doesn’t seem like you were confessing any feelings,” You jokingly roll your eyes as he scoots closer to you.

“Why would I get jealous if I didn’t like ya? Thought I made tha’ obvious.”

“Could have been more. Then we could have avoided this all together.”

“You probably would’ve just stood there with y’mouth open.”

Your mouth indeed falls open as he laughs, his comment causing you to gasp in joking offense. You take that moment to punch his shoulder, but his hand catches your wrist during the movement. Your laughs are halted when you both realize how close you are; your thighs were touching and his face was only a few inches from yours. The whiff of his scent gave you flashbacks to last night when he caught you and you were pressed perfectly against his toned chest. Thinking of his chest made you remember the videos you saw online and how addicting they were to watch, especially after you found out it actually was Harry. Now, you know how porn addicts come to be.

Unintentionally, you lick your lips while looking at his. You don’t miss the way he does the same, glaring at your lips like he’s starving and their his last meal. Your lips have haunted him ever since your first day; painted in red and screaming fierce. The way you smiled was mesmerizing to Harry, but you could say the same about Harry’s effortless charm. It’s been too long dreaming and imagining your lips on his own. Now, with everything out in the open–besides the whole porn star thing, which is for another time–maybe he can finally kiss those lips. Kiss them so well that he ruins any other man for you in the bar, in school, in porn, in life. Staring at your lips made Harry think crazy things. He can’t even imagine the filth his brain will conjure if he sees your naked body in real life.

He’s getting too ahead of himself.

“You smell good,” You whispered, forcing yourself to break the pressing tension. You two were slowly inching towards each other, so he could feel your words float over his own lips like a ghost. He hums at the feeling and the compliment. “Like a forest.”

“How long are we gonna sit like this until I can kiss ya?” The statement made your cheeks blaze with fire and your stomach tumble.

Clearly you were both done beating around the bush.

“I was waiting for you to ask! What if you didn’t want to? You know how important consent is too–”

But Harry doesn’t wait for you to stop your incessant rant. He smashes his lips to yours like he’s been dying to all this time. Your lips mush together, creating a warm, gooey feeling inside of your stomach. Harry releases your wrist and slides his hands down to your waist and carries you over to his lap. You gently bite down on his bottom lip seductively, causing him to groan against you. His rough hands pinch the skin of your hips, making you squeak in his mouth. He uses the opportunity to slide his tongue in, exploring your mouth like its new land on earth.

It’s been so long for you, you can barely remember the last time you’ve been kissed. But you know for damn sure it was never like this. It was never this fiery, this passionate, this wanted, this needed. Kissing Harry was like drinking water after being dehydrated; so obsessively satisfying, you can’t get enough. Until you drink too much and then your stomach hurts, but you doubt that will happen.

Harry can feel himself growing impressively hard underneath you. Even with you above him fully clothed has his body and mind going haywire. He’s not sure how far this is going to go, but he’s also not sure how long he’s going to last. Shit, if you even palm his bulge he might come.

And you thought he didn’t want this.

Your hands around his neck slide their way down his chest as his grip on your hips gets tighter. He pushes you closer, making you arch your back until your breasts are pressing against his chest. The abrupt movement causes the kiss to break, a breathless gasp eliciting from your swollen mouth.

“Jesus,” Harry huffs out.

“What?”

Harry ignores your question. “What do y’want?”

“You…? I thought I made that pretty clear–”

“Don’t be a smart mouth. Or I’ll put it to good use,” His threat sends a tingle straight to your core, which was covered by your soaking underwear. Just the idea of him forcing you on the floor to take his cock in your throat was erotic enough for you to get off of. Actually doing it might make you come on the spot. “What, you like that?”

“What if I do?”

“Then I can make it happen, baby.”

“But what if I want something else more?”

“Say the words.”

You hesitated. As a porn star, you’re pretty good with dirty talk. In the past, you have had no problem whispering sweet, seductive words. But Harry has your tongue tied, brain mushy, and body gooey.

“I want you inside of me.” You were straight-forward. Honest. After this whole ordeal with you two, you figured you both deserved some relief.

“I’ve been waiting too fuckin’ long for those words.”

Without wasting another minute, Harry lifts both you and himself off the couch. You make a little squeal sound before grabbing on tight to him so you don’t fall. When you somehow get to his bedroom, you’re gently tossed on his bed with a smile hanging from your lips. Harry climbs over you and immediately tugs the hem of your shirt.

“Please take it off.”

You did not need to tell him twice.

Harry did just as you asked as quickly as possible because you two were both getting a bit desperate. Like before, Harry loves edging and teasing and being in control. And one day, he’s going to do it all with you. But right now, he just needs to be inside of you, as selfish as it sounds.

Once he flips your shirt off, you’re brisk to clip off your bra. Goosebumps pimple along your skin in anticipation of what’s to come as Harry’s eyes flit over your body. He swallows harshly, mind swimming in a thousand thoughts that were all related to you. His searing gaze only makes you more flushed with heat, elbows sinking into the mattress while you wait for him to do something. You push yourself up and tug the end of his T-shirt.

“Well, what is it? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“‘Cause you’re really here.”

“That is so sweet, but please, fuck me first. I need it.” Maybe his searing gaze also gave you a newfound confidence that allowed you to say what was actually on your mind. His intense stare made you feel powerful. Like you were in control.

“Jesus Christ, we have to fix that mouth,” he growls as you slide off his shirt over his head while he kneels on the edge of the bed. You don’t even get another word in before he’s crashing his lips back onto yours in another heated kiss.

It’s not much different from the first one–maybe a little more sloppy because you’re both getting needy. Both your mouths are sloshed together with sparks tingling on your tongues. Those sparks are igniting flames within your souls, making the stress and yearning worth it. Everything felt worth it when you two were this close together.

With the same passion, Harry forces himself away from your mouth and down your neck. He’s not gentle with his teeth, nibbling with each peck of your skin he passes. Each nick injects excitement through your veins, turning you on more than you would like to admit. You already know that there will be little marks because your skin is so sensitive, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. You actually are endeared by a bunch of little marks rather than a few huge ones. Maybe you can pass the miniature hickies off as freckles…

When Harry gets to your breasts, he wants to stop and stare. Take a few long minutes to just encompass the beauty that is in front of him. But he assumes you don’t want to be ogled anymore, since he was standing still and gazing at you like a teenage girl taking a picture of a pink sunset. So, instead, his lips enclose around your nipple. His tongue glides around it, feeling its pointiness peak until he is satisfied with the sounds coming from your lewd mouth. He does the same to the other side until you’re panting and your heart has turned erratic.

His pink lips trail down your torso, marking each inch of skin with a bit of saliva and a warm kiss. His fingers traced your shape, gently scratching at your sides until you were practically squirming in his touch. You’ve never been this wet in your life and it was driving you insane. Harry was driving you insane.

“So soft, Honey,” he coos when he reaches the waistline of your pants. You help him remove the clothing, so you’re not wasting anymore time because it’s blatantly obvious you’re both desperate as hell. His compliment made your skin tingle and your spine shiver. That nickname would be the death of you, you were sure of it. He made you feel all hot and dizzy but also made you gooey and cared for. It was an intense combination of emotions that you definitely needed to sort out. But after you get his cock inside of you.

Yeah. You could settle for that.

Harry now had a full view of your underwear, which was completely soaked through. But at this point, you’re not even embarrassed as much as you are needy. Hell, you’re even spreading your legs wider for him so he has quicker access to you. Yeah. It was that bad.

“Look at you all wet and drippy,” Harry smirks as he hooks his fingers in your panties. He surprises you by pulling them up, the fabric being consumed by your pussy lips. “Such a pretty cunt. Never even seen you this wet on a video. I must be special.”

“It’s all for you, Harry. Or should I say Daddy?” Now, you were smirking. You were only teasing, but at the same time, you were testing the waters. If Harry’s username used the title, you had an inkling that he had some type of kink towards it, right?

With a subtle grunt, he yanks your legs closer to him and widens them even further apart. He doesn’t even hesitate to rip your panties in half and discard the now wasted fabric.

“Harry!” You yelled, shocked at how quickly bare you are. And that he just shredded your underwear. But it was also kind of hot. Like very hot. He slapped the inside of your thigh as a warning, a stinging zip coursing straight to your core.

“No more Harry for you. Since y’want to be such a smart mouth, when you speak, y’better say Daddy.”

Before you know it, his head is lowering towards your cunt. His lips latch onto your clit similarly to your nipple and suck. You let out a gasping moan, fingers instantly clawing at the sheets of his bed. His tongue delves into your folds and warmly slips into you like you wished his cock would. But you were currently in heaven with the heat of his mouth devouring you like his last meal on Earth.

The way his large hands gripped and man-handled your thighs was enough to leave bruising. But you wanted the bruising. You wanted to feel the pain and soreness of this tomorrow just in case it never happens again. You’re not sure what all of this is going to mean for you guys, but you don’t think this will be the end. No, you think it’s going to be the beginning.

You could feel yourself getting wetter with each lick and slurp. Your tailbone was beginning to ache from arching your back to the absolute max. Once that all-too familiar feeling was rushing towards you like a train, Harry’s mouth only got quicker. He even started spitting on your cunt and watched the juices mix together, and that only made your insides clench at the lewdness of it all. Harry was a dirty, dirty man. You knew he was only showing bits and pieces of himself. You wanted to unravel it all and learn more about him and what he liked. But maybe that was for another time…

Without realizing it, your hands were sewn in his brown curls, forcing his head to remain on your clit until you reached your high. Harry’s groans were muffled into vibrations as you tugged, getting more pleasure through them. Your hips were moving in circular motions, but Harry pressed you down with his forearm to keep you flat and still.

“Har–” He pinched your ass, causing you to shriek and correct yourself, “Daddy, please, I’m so close. I’m right there.”

You rarely begged. On your livestreams and videos, you were confident and sexy and seducing because that’s what your audience liked. It’s what you’ve learned and grown to do. You weren’t used to needing something from someone else so fucking bad that you were pleading for them to make you satisfied. Harry’s mouth was currently your kryptonite because you would do anything for him to get you to the finish line.

He suckled on your clit for a few long seconds before you were coming in his mouth. Chants of his title were echoing loudly in his room that the neighbors probably thought you were dying. You were, just in a different way. Harry was gladly swallowing all your juices , his chin sloppy with all them. When it all got too much, you tried to push him away, but he didn’t move until he was completely done.

“Taste so sweet. Just like honey.”

He doesn’t fail to bring more heat onto your skin, even after just having his mouth on you. Something about the way he compliments you and manages to incorporate the word honey will always get you. He seems to read you so easily, and no one’s ever done that before.

“Knew from the video that you’d taste amazing.”

“Yeah?”

“I can’t believe you sent me that video by the way.”

“What? Why?”

“What if it wasn’t me?”

“It’s my job, Harry.”

“So? You were moanin’ my name. That means it’s for me. You’re for me.” The staring that was occurring between you quickly ended as your eyes flitted away from him. You made sure to look anywhere else but him as you heard the sound of his pants falling. Sometimes, Harry could be pretty blunt in the way he claimed you, but at the same time very guarded. He’s saying that you’re his, but you two haven’t even discussed things that far yet.

“Says who?”

“Says me. Right now,” Harry practically growls as he climbs over your body again, his insane physique hovering over you. You never thought you would actually see the day that Harry–the charming, tattooed, sexy man you worked with–was on top of you. You’ve only ever envisioned him in your wet dreams doing the most sinful things known. God wouldn’t be able to forgive the sins you’ve conjured in your brain.

You don’t even get to retort because you’re only thinking about his cock. You had felt his impressive bulge on the couch and assumed he had been rocking himself into the bed while eating you out. As he kissed your neck again, you would feel his hardness poking at you greedily, but you haven’t even looked at it yet. It was probably just as pretty as it was in all his videos.

He extends himself towards his night stand while you’re caught in your thoughts, snatching a condom. You’re glad he didn’t ask to go bare like most guys do. But “most guys” to you are a bunch of college losers who just want to get their dick wet and don’t actually care about the consequences. If you were to get pregnant, they probably wouldn’t even blink an eye before leaving. But you knew Harry wasn’t like that. No, he was the type to think things through and actually be mature about things. Besides the fact that he avoided you…but it’s not like you were very mature about it either. Maybe the age distance between you and Harry was something that you needed. The college boys just weren’t doing it for you.

It’s strange how so many thoughts can sprout from a simple as Harry grabbing a condom. The bare fucking minimum.

“What’s wrong?” Harry’s voice was full of concern as his thick thumb rubbed over your warm cheek. You hadn’t even realized how close he had gotten since he had stretched over towards the drawer and you didn’t know that he’d already put the condom on. So, again, you missed the sight of his huge, God-like dick in-person. Despite all of that, a ping of appreciation hit you right in the heart at Harry’s attention to detail because you know that those college boys wouldn’t have noticed a damn thing.

“Nothing, I–”

“Don’t lie, Honey. Do y’still want this? We don’t have to,” he reassured, eyes sparking with something that was different from the hidden lust. His voice could be rough and firm, but it could also be soothing and sweet. He had these sides to him that he would encompass. Not necessarily switch like a light but transition into smoothly.

“Harry, I’m fine. I promise. This is the only thing I want right now,” You rested your hand on top of his on your cheek. At that moment, everything felt a little more intimate. A little more love-like. The idea of sex turning into “love-making” currently terrified you, but the racing of your heart wasn’t from fear. No, it felt like it was exciting and anxious but in the best way. “Actually, I would be not so fine if you didn’t put your dick in me.”

“You have such a dirty mouth when you’re blunt, Honey,” Harry smoothes his hand down your body and finds your clit again, rubbing gentle circles over the throbbing nerves. Even though you just came only minutes prior, you continued to get wet with every second you were waiting for him. The sight of his body with all those beautiful designs was enough to get you ready for another. He didn’t even have to work you up.

“Thought that’s what you wanted.”

“I’m hearin’ more attitude than screams of m’name. Let’s change that.”

With a devilish smirk, Harry pushes himself close to you and levels into you. His cock enters you slowly but fully as your lungs forget to breathe. Realizing this, you breathe before Harry can scold you about it. His dick was nearly all in because you could feel the weight of his thighs hovering over you deliciously along with the rest of his tattooed body.

When Harry hears and sees you take a deep breath, he pulls out just to push back in again. You elicit a shaky moan as Harry groans gravelly near your chest.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Harry moans louder into the air as his thrusts become harder, more direct. With just those few thrusts, he already knows exactly where your weakness is and makes it his life goal to hit it every single time.

Harry’s hips move rapidly, pinning your body to the bed as you wiggle underneath him. His muscles are contracting against the pressure of each insane plunge into you while your insides are being reassorted. His size makes it difficult to move, difficult to breathe, yet you’re loving it immensely.

Staring at his arms, you don’t even think about grabbing one of his arms that’s holding him up and laying it on your neck. One of Harry’s furrowed eyebrows lifts up in surprise before that familiar smirk is plastered right back onto his smug face.

“Fuckin’ filthy. I knew you were. What else are y’hiding from me?” Harry’s hand wraps around your neck just as you silently asked. As his fingers block your air flow just enough to make you a little fuzzy, your cunt clenched around his cock. Besides your moans and groans and whimpers, the sound of skin to skin is bouncing across the bedroom like your own personal song. Your anthem. When he releases, the blood flow returns, but he keeps his hand there. “C’mon, Y/N, tell me. What other kinks do you have?”

“I know y’like it rough. Don’t like it when Daddy goes too easy on ya. Do you like to be spanked too? Hmm? Slapped and bitten? Like to have marks all over you so everyone can see?” His brutal thrusts never stop, not even when his breath becomes a little lost. He’s slamming into you like he’s trying to make a dent in your organs, and quite frankly, he just might if he keeps going at the rate he is. But you don’t seem to care too much at the moment. “Do you like people watching? Is that why you post videos of our pretty, little cunt all over the internet? So people can watch you?”

“I don’t hear you,” his voice, raspy and sexy, whispered in a low-threat type of way as his hand rubs over the pulse of your neck temptingly again.

“I g-guess I do like people watching me…” Your voice was breathless as your mind became foggy. Harry did have a way of doing that to you, especially with his hand on your now strained neck. “L-Like when you watch me.”

“‘Course you do. That’s ‘cause you’re dirty. Just like me.” If it was possible, he rocks into you more barbarically until your legs are shaking. You can feel the muscles in your thighs start to spasm, urging to close as you chase your inevitable high.

“Daddy, God, you’re so big. So, so big,” You whined helplessly into the sex-filled air. Your hairs were scratching, tugging, pulling, clawing at everything at the same time, trying to manage all the intense pleasure that was coursing through your body. It was almost too much to handle. Harry seemed to know how to push your limits without killing you, and you’ve craved that feeling for so long. “L-Love your cock. Oh my God!”

“Poor baby. I’ve gotten you all cock drunk; you can’t think of anything else besides m’cock. ‘S that good, huh?” A choppy chuckle elicits from his mouth and wavers over to your ear. Your chest was pressing into his as your core clutched with the sense of near-orgasm. “Gonna come soon, baby?”

“Yes, yes, yes…” You were a mumbled, grumbled mess. You couldn’t think straight, couldn’t talk straight. Harry was impairing all of your abilities with his dirty talk and his magical dick.

No, seriously. Was it like a thick magic wand or something?

Harry squeezes on your neck a couple times, lightly, just to push you right over the edge. Harry seemed to be a quick learner when it came to your body because you were instantly coming then. As Harry felt you orgasm for the second time tonight, he finally let go of his own. When you were coming around his tongue at the beginning of this all, he was having a hard time trying to not come in his own pants. He may have been stupid last night and selfish earlier, but he wasn’t going to do it again. He was going to make up for being a selfish prick and show you how he actually treats a woman. Because you deserve to be treated with nothing less than the best.

After you’re both settled, Harry regretfully slips out of you. Clearly, you felt the same way because you whined as he removed himself. After being inside of you and passing through the gates of heaven, why would Harry want to leave? But even though Harry wants to be as close to you as possible by simply cockwarming all day, he doesn’t want to rush this. It’s new, even if you guys have been friends for some time.

Plucking off the condom and knotting it, Harry waltzes towards his bathroom to grab a towel to clean you up. The soft smile on your face when he returns highlights how grateful you are for his aftercare as he gently wipes up the mess both of you helped create.

“How do you feel?” Harry genuinely asks before placing the towel at the foot of his bed. He briskly moves to his dresser to pick out a new pair of boxers.

“I’m sorry if this offends you, but you have a great ass,” You bluntly state, completely avoiding his question. “But I’m okay.”

Harry laughs as he slips on the clothing. “Just okay? No pain?”

“Yeah. If okay translates to “my vagina is broken for every man ever and both my legs are going to hate me tomorrow”,” You smile innocently as Harry grabs two shirts. He chucks one at you, smiling goofily. It hits you in the face with a laugh before you slip it over your head.

“Good.”

“Good? I might have to take a week off work to heal from the damages.”

“Guess you’ll just have to stay in my bed.”

You roll your eyes before pushing yourself off his bed, contradicting his statement.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to my real boyfriend’s house,” You roll your eyes again facetiously and leave his room, rounding the same corner that he did before yelling, “Bathroom!”

When you return, you plop yourself on Harry’s bed like it was normal. It was comfortable. It felt right. It wasn’t awkward, it wasn’t forced. That was the good thing about two friends getting together. After sex, or work, or school, or just a bad day, or even a good day, they could always just talk. As you sat on Harry’s bed, it was easy to joke and make conversation while still feeling that subtle spark of electricity in between you two. That spark was the difference between platonic and romantic.

“We should watch a movie,” You suggested.

“Where should we look? PornHub?” His dry humor made you laugh as you cozied up in his bed. He didn’t hesitate to pull you close and you liked that. Maybe a little too much for your own good. Your heart was thumping in a way that was melting away the frozen walls around it. It made you happy that something in your life finally seemed to be working out.

“Maybe start with Netflix,” You laid your head on his shoulder as the ironic logo appeared on his TV. “I, um.”

“What?” Harry peeked down at you.

“I think I like this a lot,” Harry smiles at you. He could tell from the beginning that it was hard for you to say things like that to him. That’s why it made him feel like such an asshole for storming out the other night. You needed time to process everything he had just told you, but he was too nervous for your rejection, so he left. Even though he’s six years older than you and may seem more mature, everyone makes stupid and selfish mistakes.

“Well, I hope so, Honey, ‘cause I do too,” Even those simple words have the ability to warm and satisfy your scared, little heart.

“But I’m still not taking your money.”

–

i hope you all liked these two :))

taglist:

@whoreonmondays @armystay89 @meighasfangirldiary @bisexual-desi @littlenatilda @crybabyddl @tiaamberxx @alwaysclassyeagle @raajali3 @likeapplejuicenpeach | @kathb59 @gem1712 @ppleasingg @onlyangle1 @buckybarnessimpp @hannah9921 @storyschanging

Harry spent the entire day thinking about you. He’d dropped you at your hotel that morning, slightly against his will. He woke before you, and couldn’t believe how adorable you looked sleeping. Your hair was a mess from tossing and turning in the night, your cheeks rosy from the morning heat and your rosebud lips puffing out with every breath.

He had places to be and you needed to shower, but once he saw the building you were staying in he decided you’d never go back there. It looked a state. The yellowing brickwork was falling apart, some windows were boarded up and the front door was wedged open for anyone to get in at any time. He made a mental note of your room number before he drove off.

You’d exchanged numbers as you left, but Harry hadn’t heard from you since then. Although he was busy with work at the venue, outfit fittings and some sneaky self-care, he was starting to panic that he wouldn’t speak to you again. So when he’d finally had enough of waiting by the phone like a teenager, he snapped a picture of himself with a sheet mask on. He sent it to you, then followed with a message.

harry: making myself pretty for you :)

He saw you were typing almost immediately, and his heart nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw a picture from you flash up. You were wearing a tiny baby tee, and if he looked hard enough (which he absolutely did) he could make out the outline of your nipples under the shirt. You were surrounded by makeup, your hair already styled in perfect waves.

y/n: you’re pretty enough as you are. working hard on myself too 😋

Harry felt a blush creep up his cheeks as he read and reread your message. Tapping his fingers on the side of his phone, he stared up at the ceiling and wondered how you’d just been dropped right under his nose. He always shied away from women who were fans of his work, knowing it can get more complicated that way. But something was different about you, there was a reason he’d bumped into you last night, he was sure of it.

—

With soundcheck finished, all Harry had to do now was get ready. He wondered if you were outside already, where you’d be inside, what you’d be wearing. You hadn’t caved and given him any details, so the possibilities had been running through his mind all day. He paced his dressing room, stretching out his strong arms. Every show was important, every show needed to go right. His first night at Wembley needed to be a good one. He just hoped he’d spot you, know you were there so he didn’t have to keep looking for you. Sighing, he decided to send you one final text before shutting his phone off and getting in the zone.

harry: meet me at my hotel after the show? won’t be there until later but can give your name to the front desk :) x

y/n: only if i’m not intruding !!! good luck tonight, break a leg 🦵 x

Meanwhile, you were in the queue outside the stadium with your best friend, Joanie. You were both wearing denim halter playsuits, her with a blue feather boa and yours white. You’d met each other at school where you bonded over One Direction, so you wished to be able to tell her about your night with Harry. But you knew whatever friendship was blossoming between you two could only continue in private, at least for now, and you knew she’d understand when you eventually told her. She was watching you as you stood there, jittering and anxiously checking your phone. “What’s up with you?,” she asked, her face scrunched up. “Oh. Nothi- I’m just anxious to get inside,” you lied through your teeth, hoping she wouldn’t ask any further. You knew the last thing on Harry’s mind right now would be texting you, yet you still waited for another message. You had your phone brightness turned all the way down so no one could see, and clicked on your text chain with Harry every few minutes. You couldn’t stop looking at his selfie, his glistening green eyes against the white of the mask, the relaxed look on his face. He was shirtless, the heads of his inked swallows just creeping into frame. You hadn’t even clocked he’d slept shirtless last night. The things you’d do if presented with that again ..

The queue began to move inside, and every wall you looked at showed you pictures of Harry’s face. It felt totally insane that the same man you’d joked around with like old friends was the one you’d be screaming to shortly. Part of you wanted to dial down your enjoyment, make him think you’re just a casual fan so he felt more comfortable around you- but you knew the second he came on stage that would be out the window.

You found a perfect spot a few rows back from the front of the walkway, knowing Joanie wanted to see ‘little freak’ and ‘matilda’ up close. It wasn’t long until you heard the opening chords of ‘daydreaming’ and watched Harry burst onto the stage. The atmosphere was electric, and he looked divine in his red and white patterned jumpsuit. You and Joanie were screaming and jumping like children at a school disco, in pure disbelief of the love and wholesome vibes around you.

When Harry appeared just in front of you, you felt a buzzing in your chest. You’d seen his eyes scanning the crowds, as if he was looking for someone, and you really hoped he was looking for you. As soon as you thought about it, his eyes landed upon yours. He sucked in a long breath, losing his train of thought mid-ramble. Harry thought you were beautiful last night but you looked almost heavenly tonight. Your playsuit hugged your curves perfectly, the half-up zipper showing an inviting amount of cleavage. He could see all the tattoos dotted up and down your arms, and the way you were grinning at your friend made his heart melt a little. You had an air of innocence about you, which he loved. Suddenly, your friend was looking at him awestruck and nudging you to see. You half-waved, sending him a subtle wink so as not to alert Joanie to anything weird. Harry managed to carry on with what he was saying, but his eyes barely left you the entire time he was there.

By the time he got around to ‘late night talking’, Harry literally couldn’t get you off his mind. In a sea full of people, it’s like there was a spotlight on you. The way you were dancing, your hair flying around you, he was mesmerised. The rest of the show continued in a blur, with Harry barely in control of his own actions. Going through the motions until he could see you later on. Grinding against the microphone, acting out the dirtier parts of every song. You riled him up in the perfect way.

“I need a little help from you all,” he spoke into the microphone, one hand scanning the crowd. “It’s a little hot today, and I think we need to cool down.” His face remained serious, though the crowd laughed after his antics all night. He was positively feral. Rolling his shoulders back, Harry grabbed the microphone as the first lines of ‘kiwi’ tumbled out his mouth. It didn’t take long for him to be back in front of you, already drenched from the splashes of water he’d requested. He was standing there with a devilish smirk plastered on his face, full water bottle in hand.

She sits beside me like a silhouette

His hand traced the curves of his own body, eyes locked onto yours once again. The words you were screaming were no more than tiny squeaks now, heart caught in your throat as you watched Harry gyrating in front of you.

Hard candy drippin' on me 'til my feet are wet

He raked a hand down the front of his body, pulling away just before he reached his goods. Something in his eyes said he wanted to touch himself right here, right now.

And now she's all over me, it's like I paid for it

It's like I paid for it

He pointed towards you now, apparently totally incapable of anything except showing the world that he wanted to fuck you. Heat was swirling round your insides, this song did enough for you without Harry singing it for you.

I'm gonna pay for this

Just as the burning in your core got too much to bear, Harry unscrewed his water bottle and threw the contents right at you. You shrieked as the water hit you, drenching Joanie and the other girls around you. Harry returned your wink, the green of his eyes barely visible around his blown pupils, and moved on as if nothing happened.

“Oh my God!” Joanie screamed, jumping up and down at your side. “He was looking right at you!!”

You were so flustered, you couldn’t even find words to respond. You were almost nervous for the show to finish, hoping Harry still had this energy later.

—

Opening the door to your hotel room, you looked around with your jaw dropped. Everything was gone, all your makeup and clothes vanished from the piles around the room. All that was left was some gym shorts, a black t shirt and the pair of sneakers you wore last night. You turned on your heel, furious that someone had been fiddling with your stuff while you were away. It was only then that you saw the note pinned to the back of the door.

Y/N, this hotel sucks. Got you a room in mine. See you soon , H x

You couldn’t believe what you were reading. That cheeky little bastard didn’t even pre warn you that he’d cleared out your hotel room. You were desperate for a cold shower after the heat of the concert. Instead, you got changed quickly and scrubbed your makeup off, hoping that would make you feel a little fresher. Harry hadn’t even left you clean panties to change into.

—

Barging into his hotel room with the note still in your hand, you were half surprised to even see Harry standing there. You assumed he’d still be a while, but then, he didn’t have to battle through the crowds to leave the stadium. “There you are,” he grinned, so much more relaxed than you’d seen him a few hours ago. You flapped the note in the air, unable to even find words to question him. “Hey,” he started, stalking towards you slowly. “You can’t stay there alone, I don’t trust that place one bit. I put all your stuff in your room- it’s just one floor down from here.” You calmed down slightly at that, not even sure why you were so worked up to begin with. He was right, your hotel was the lowest of the low. “Thank you,” you mumbled, looking up at him. Harry was standing right in front of you now, wearing only a thin t shirt and the gym shorts from yesterday. He looked exhausted, but totally wired.

“I couldn’t take my eyes off you,” he whispered, barely audible above the hum of the music he had playing. “Are you kidding?!” You replied, eyes lighting up as a grin stretched across your face. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you,” you laughed, poking a finger into Harry’s muscular chest. He grabbed your hand when you didn’t move it away, looking into your eyes with parted lips. His own eyes were darkened, his pupils blown with a look you couldn’t quite place. They dragged up and down from your eyes to your mouth, and just being subject to his gaze lit a fire in your core. He was animalistic. Harry traced along your jaw with his free hand, tentatively as if waiting to be stopped. Only, you didn’t stop him. You weren’t sure you could speak, even if you wanted to.

He let go of your wrist and ran both of his hands through his damp hair, before wiping down his face with his right hand. Harry took a step closer, his big frame overshadowing you as you stepped back until your hips hit the kitchen counter. Please, please let this go as far as I want it to, you silently prayed, wishing Harry could read your mind right now. He was still looking down at you, his firm chest rising and falling quickly. You placed a gentle hand against his pec, checking his eyes for any sign as to his next move. Harry merely cocked his head in response, as if trying to figure you out too. “Harry, please,” you moaned softly, hoping this would be all the permission he needed to have his wicked way with you.

Almost instantly, his hands were under your thighs, scooping you up and placing you on the countertop. He tilted your chin up and looked over your face one more time before his lips smashed into yours, starting a battle of tongues, teeth and lips. You wrapped an arm around his broad shoulder, allowing his tongue further into your mouth. Harry’s teeth tugged at your lower lip as he pulled away, his forehead resting against yours. You were panting, half from the lack of air but mostly from the heat in your belly. You mentally scolded him for not leaving you clean panties as they were double soaked now. You wrapped your ankles around his hips, pulling him closer into you until your cores connected. His thick shaft poked your inner thigh, leaving you moaning and crumbling in front of him. “You had me going crazy all night,” Harry moaned against your mouth, pushing his hands up and under your t-shirt. He kneaded your soft breasts as if they were warm dough, pinching your nipple as his lips moved down to your neck. His name tumbled out of your mouth over and over again, Harry, Harry, Harry, ringing around your head as he got to work on your body.

He stepped back, tilting your head up again to look him in the eyes as his fingers wrapped around the waistband of your shorts and panties. You gave him a small nod, knowing he’d take that as your consent to do whatever he fancied with you. Harry whipped them off in one go, his cock twitching at the sight of you. Your lips were swollen and pink, pupils blown with lust. He could see the wetness glistening between your folds, looking beyond inviting. His fingers trailed up your thigh, circling your button before slipping between your folds. Your head fell to his shoulder as he pushed in and out of you, stroking at your sweet spot. Your walls were tightening around his knuckles already, so much pent up pleasure pushing you close to your climax already.

“So close already, sweet girl?” Harry drawled, peppering kisses down your throat. You could only moan in response, feeling a ball of heat deep in your core. He slipped another finger in, rubbing on your button with his thumb, desperate to coax you to your high. “Right there Harry, don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you panted, screwing up your eyes as he bought you closer. “Look at me, Y/N, look in my eyes as you come,” Harry warned, his tone stern yet breathy. The minute you looked up at him, your orgasm flooded over you. Your thighs were shaking as you called out his name through pants, a hand gripping the back of his thick curls.

He kept his fingers moving inside you, slower now as you came down from your high, before rubbing a hand along your waist. “You needed that, huh? Did so good for me baby,” he spoke softly, pressing kisses into your jawline. “I’m gonna take you to the bed now, okay?” He asked, pushing your hair out of your face. You simply nodded, unable to speak after such a fast and heavy orgasm.

Harry slipped off his shirt before sliding an arm under you and gripping you tight, carrying you over to the giant bed. He laid you down gently in the centre of the bed, kicking off his shorts and boxers. Your eyes were drawn to his groin as he gave himself a quick stroke, his erection bouncing up to smack the centre of his laurels. He was big. Bigger than he felt pressed against you, maybe bigger than you’d ever seen. “Fuck,” he groaned, looking down at you with his lips rolled into his mouth. “I don’t have a condom.”

“I’m clean, Harry. And I’m on birth control,” you offered. Harry grinned. He wouldn’t normally go raw, he knew the risks all too well. But man, did he want to. He could already feel the way your walls would stretch around him, the sheer pleasure of splitting you in two with no barrier in the way. It was risky, but he’d already taken enough risks with you. One more wouldn’t hurt.

He climbed on top of you, resting one hand to the left of your shoulder. Guiding his cock to your folds, he moaned at the slightest touch. You’d had him hard for so long now, Harry knew he wouldn’t last long when he finally got inside you. He leaned down to press a kiss to your lips as he pushed his head inside of you. He took the first few inches slow, reeling from how tight you were around him. “Let me know if it’s too much, okay pet?” He looked deep into your eyes as you nodded, throwing an arm around his neck. “More, please Harry,” you whimpered, using one foot to nudge the back of his thigh. “You wanna take it all, princess? Gonna get fucked so good by daddy’s cock?”

You moaned louder at his words, pure filth tumbling out of his dirty, dirty mouth. Harry bottomed out inside you, throwing his head back in relief. He had every intention of starting off slow and careful, but after pulling out, his first thrust was already hard and sloppy. He needed you too badly to waste time warming you up. “You feel so good baby, never had someone so tight around me.” He rocked into you quickly, his free hand gripping onto yours. You had no idea sex could ever feel as good as it did right now. His cock was filling every inch of you, forcing satisfaction into places you’d never felt before. “Harry, fuck-“ you whined, “I’m close.”

“Come for me, I want you to come baby.” His groin was rubbing against your clit, your pleasure threatening to spill out of you again. You looked up at him, just as he’d requested before, and stretched your neck to press sloppy kisses along his collarbone. Your body started to tense up again, you could feel your walls clenching around his shaft. You writhed under him, this orgasm more intense than you’d ever had. “Fuck baby, fuck. Where do you want me to come?” He stuttered, throwing everything left in his body into thrusting in and out of you as you came down from your high. “Inside me, please, fuck Harry.” You panted, clawing into the back of his neck. He wasted no time in painting your walls with his come, his thrusts becoming sloppy and half-arsed as he cried out your name.

—

“You didn’t have to do that, you know. I wasn’t expecting it or anything,” you spoke softly, moving your head to look up at Harry. He only wrapped his arm around you tighter, pressing a kiss into the top of your head. “I know. I wanted to.” He replied, pulling the duvet on top of you both with his free hand. “Seemed like you wanted it too,” he smirked, nestling his chin into your hair. You slapped his chest playfully, eyes heavy after your long night. You both fell asleep like that, tangled up in each other, wearing nothing but a pair of pants each.

When Harry first met you he wasn’t sure if you’d ever get along. You were a plus one to a party his friend was throwing and his first impression wasn’t exactly memorable. He didn’t mean that in an awful way, but the two of you never really crossed paths except for the first introduction, and that was as simple as ‘y/n, this is Harry. Harry, y/n’ then he was quick to jump back into his conversation with his girlfriend.

He and Melanie had been together for a while, in one of those classic on-again-off-again types of ways that was borderline toxic and annoying for everyone around them. When he first met you they were in that off-again phase where they kind of hated each other and liked to nit-pick about the past mistakes of their relationship before one of them would drag each other to the nearest empty room to fuck it out.

It worked for a while, to the protest of all their friends. It would’ve been easier to cut her out of his life if their entire social lives weren’t connected. Their friends, friends of friends, even their families were friends. That didn’t change the fact that they were wrong for each other. 

When Harry met you for the second and third time, he was in the on-again portion of his relationship. They were as loved up as anything, so annoyingly it was like no one else in the room even existed to them. That included you. 

Unbeknownst to Harry, you had been part of his closest circle of friends for years before he even knew them but had been living abroad the entire time. So to you, Harry and Melanie were this annoying addition with an unhealthy relationship that managed to ruin every social gathering in one way or another. 

They were either PDAing until your eyes burned or muttering snide comments under their breaths and refusing to even look at each other. It was soul-draining. Still, they seemed to have integrated well with the rest of the group and you didn’t want to be the only one who didn’t make some sort of effort. 

You tried to get to know them in one of their lovey-dovey phases, thinking it was better to catch them then rather than when they were biting at each other. Safe to say it failed miserably since they were too busy kissing to notice anyone else in the room. After that, you concluded that you and Harry would never really get along.

That was fine with you. 

The fifth time Harry met you, his relationship was over for good. When they were together their issues were because they had nothing in common and couldn’t agree on anything except sex. When Melanie finally broke it off and told him she met someone else and was bored of the back and forth, Harry was at a bit of a loss on what to do.

A good year was spent on her and then it just ended without a real apology, only a stupid ‘I’m bored’. He thought it would have a bit more of a bang, but he was glad it didn’t. After that, she spent more time with her new boyfriend than their joint group of friends. 

Truthfully, he did feel freedom. He no longer felt tied down to this woman who only really cared about his cock. It went both sides and he wouldn’t deny that, but it did feel nice knowing he didn’t have someone watching him at every turn.

That was the night he truly noticed you for the first time. He had seen you before, how couldn’t he? You were gorgeous and had this energy about you that lit up the room. He had just always been too distracted to properly speak to you and give you any time.

When he observed you and the way you interacted with everyone, he regretted it. He felt like a real dick for letting you be in their group for as long as you were without making any effort at all. And to think that despite his hectic relationship, you still made an effort. He remembered the exact night it happened too, and what was going through his head when you wandered over to him and Melanie in that little skirt of yours and tried to start up a conversation.

Melanie was all over him and he was too busy clutching onto the good moments he had with her to really give you any straight answers. You were irritated, he remembered that part of it but he couldn’t recite any sentences or topics you tried to talk about. Harry wanted to take it back, but he couldn’t exactly ignore the way he acted when he was still with Melanie. 

“So… I heard you guys just came back from France. That sounds like such a romantic trip! What was a highlight?” 

If only you knew they spent that entire weekend fighting. An off-again portion of their relationship that inconveniently took place in a different country.

“Oh it was-Melanie, stop it” Harry tried to scold, laughing when she grabbed his thigh and darted her tongue out to lick his neck. Disgusting. 

“It was really romantic. Like really romantic, if you know what I mean.” Melanie giggled, her voice tainted a drunken slur as she looked at you briefly before attaching herself back onto his neck like a leech. 

“Wow, that's…” you had to swallow the vomit. Disgusting. It just felt so disrespectful and gross. They were far from teenagers, Melanie was a only year or two younger than you, yet they acted like they had never experienced sex before in their lies. “Sounds nice guys. Did you do any-um” You paused when Melanie pulled Harry’s face towards her to kiss him. “Never mind.”

As it turned out, he had severely underestimated your importance to the group too. An even bigger fuck-up than he thought it would be.

“Are you serious? How come none of you ever talked about her?” Harry gaped, taking a swig of his beer at the new information. His eyes darted to you across the room, mesmerised by the way your laugh echoed through the room, just audible over the music from the speakers. They weren’t up too loud, which Harry found a blessing since it meant he could hear your pretty laugh clearer.

“We did. You were just too busy with Melanie to care.” Scott replied, “Y/n grew up with Casey which is how we all met. We just clicked, H. Kinda like when we first met you.” 

“And she’s been living where?”

“Sydney. She was overseeing an expansion of the company she works for, basically CEOing the whole thing without being the CEO. Real impressive shit, if you ask me.”

“Wow.” Harry was beyond impressed. Pretty and talented? He always did like a career-driven woman, which was funny considering Melanie was anything but. 

“She’s really smart too and if she didn’t hate you, I’d even pair you two together.” Scott laughed like it was a joke, slapping Harry on the shoulder. 

“She hates me?” Harry’s head snapped back to Scott. 

“Kind of. You’ve been a bit of an asshole to her y’know.” 

Harry didn’t like being called an asshole, nor did he like the fact that you hated him. He didn’t have high hopes that you two would totally get along, especially given the beginning of your relationship, but he wanted to be civil. He hoped to at least earn your forgiveness and be able to say hello to each other without it being painfully awkward. 

When Harry wandered into the kitchen later that night to try and find you, he didn’t expect to see you alone. It was what he wanted so he could actually try and make some conversation and hopefully clear the air, but he was still surprised to find you sitting on the kitchen bench, legs swinging with your phone in one hand and a can of some pre-mix in the other. 

He was trying to think of something to say before you noticed his presence, but between his heavy footsteps and intoxicating cologne, it wasn’t hard to sense him without even looking up from your screen.

“Your girlfriend not here? Shocker.”

“Excuse me?” He blinked, not expecting the damn attitude from someone everyone in the house had called sweet.

“Your girlfriend.” You looked up at him, “The one who liked to spread shit about you one minute then sit on your lap the next?” 

Harry didn’t even know what to say. Maybe he really did fuck up. “We’ve broken up.”

“Like I haven’t heard that before.” You snorted, taking a swig of your drink as you turned your phone off and slipped the shoulder bag on the crook of your elbow. “You two are too codependent for your own good. I’m sure she’ll be back on your arm in no time.”

Harry was having a hard time keeping his eyes on your face. Your skirt was quite possibly the shortest thing he had ever seen and if you shifted in just the right way he’d see straight to your underwear. He wasn’t sure if it was your teasing nature or just a tipsy accident, but he swore your legs spread a little further apart when he stepped into the room and leaned against the counter opposite you. 

“Not this time. She’s dating someone else.” 

“Huh.” You cocked your head, leaning back on one hand as you let your eyes casually scan over him. Harry was quite an attractive man and even a blind man could figure that out. Tall, built, tight jeans that hugged those delicious thighs of his and long luscious curls you may even admit to being jealous of once you got a little tipsy. He looked good. Too bad he rubbed you up the completely wrong way. “And how do you feel about that?”

Taking another heavy chug of you drink, you stared at him over the rim. “Why do you want to know?” He shifted uncomfortably, both a little turned on and freaked out at how you looked at him. You weren’t what he thought, that’s for sure. 

“I’m just curious.” You shrugged, slipping off the counter and onto the floor. You finished off your drink quickly and took a few steps towards Harry, crossing the short distance between you. “I’ve always wondered whether a breakup like yours gives your balls back or if she still has them in her back pocket.”

His eyes widened and this time he made no effort to hide his irritation. “You-”

“Have a good night Harry.” You smiled, patting his chest before walking away from him. You chucked your empty can on the way out, bidding him an “It was nice having more than a two-word conversation with you” without a second glance. 

Yeah… neither of you had high hopes of getting along. 

The next couple of parties were similar. Harry ignored your first conversation and tried to start a new one each time. He’d hug you hello, which you kind of reciprocated before excusing yourself to speak to anyone else then he’d find you at some other point in the night. But they never really went how he expected they would.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot. Or the wrong planet.” Harry announced himself, joining you at the bar as you waited for your drink. 

“Oh really?” You raised a brow, giving him another once over. 

He still wasn’t used to the way to looked at him, nor was he used to those short skirts of yours. They seemed to be a staple in your wardrobe no matter the weather. You layered them with tights, coats, knee-high boots or nothing at all when the weather was warmer. Hell, he had even seen you wear your skirts as tops if they could be styled that way. 

“Yes, really. I think you need to get to know me. The real me.” 

“And what real you is that?” The bartender slid your drink to you then held out the eftpos machine for you to tap your card. Before you got the chance, Harry tapped his phone to the screen, paying for your drink before ordering his own. 

You were a little shocked at the gesture but didn’t even get a chance to say anything about it before he was talking. 

“The nice, non-asshole who feels like shit for how we met.” 

“Hmm.” You were a little suspicious, but he did just pay for your drink. 

“So” he started, “you’ve been living in Sydney. How long were you there?”

The loud bar wasn’t the best place for a conversation, but you decided to go along with it anyway. Everyone deserved a second chance and truthfully, you were a little impressed that he was still reaching out to you after your first conversation. You did basically say he had no balls and any insecure man would’ve taken that hit right to the ego and never recovered. Clearly, Harry wasn’t like that.  

“Two years.”

“Wow. It must’ve been an adjustment, huh?” He presumed, leaning his face closer so you could hear him better. You could smell alcohol on his breath already, but you were probably the same so you didn’t think much of it. 

“Not really.” You called back, sipping your drink before leaning in so your mouth was close to his ear. “I do well on my own so it was more freeing than anything else. Plus, the job offered great perks and I didn’t have anyone here that was tying me down. Felt like the right decision.”

“You had friends, didn't you? Family?” His brows furrowed and now it was his turn to bring his mouth closer to your ear. “Everyone here seems to love you.” Muttering a ‘thanks’ to the bartender for his drink, he paid for it then the two of you moved out of the way, staying near the bar. Your bodies remained close so you could hear each other well. 

“Of course I do.” You defended. “But I kept in constant contact with everyone. Physically I wasn’t here, but I never let my job or relationships get in the way of my friendships. I made more when I was there of course, but I always stayed connected to home. ”

Harry noticed the stress you put on ‘relationships’ and the way your expression turned a little colder. There was clear attitude and intent behind your comment and he wasn’t about to let it go. He was making an effort, yes, but he wasn’t going to let you insult him. 

“That sounds like a dig at me.” He scoffed, clearly irritated. 

It wasn’t meant to be a dig, but it also wasn’t a lie. The fact that it happened to relate to his relationship was just a coincidence and a connection Harry made, not you. Maybe he wasn’t that blind to the impact his relationship had on everyone around him after all. 

“Maybe you’re just sensitive.” You shot back, rolling your eyes. “Not every conversation is about you, Harry.”

“You’re the one who made it about me.” He snapped back. 

“I didn’t!” You laughed in astonishment, a little shocked at his attitude. “Are you actually being serious right now?”

“Oh come off it, y/n. All I was trying to do was make conversation with you and you had to turn around and ruin it!” 

You were the one to ruin it? God, every time this man opened his mouth it just managed to make you more and more irritated.

It was clear you hit a nerve with your unrelated comment about him and Melanie. And yeah, you understood that things were still fresh but he didn’t react like this when you commented about his balls last time so you didn’t really understand why he was being so rude. 

“Jesus, Harry. All I did was make a comment that wasn’t even about you and now you’re making it this big fucking thing!? Just because you’re used to fucked up mind games, doesn’t mean I want anything to do with them. I’m not Melanie nor do I deserve to be treated like her.”

Harry stayed silent, but something you said seemed to resonate with him because you could see the instant regret in his expression. 

“Casey’s waiting for me.” You didn’t allow him to defend himself or apologise. You were done with him for tonight. “See you around, Harry.” 

It took a few more times of seeing you before Harry gathered the courage to see you again. After that whole ordeal in the bar, he felt seriously embarrassed and ashamed of his actions. He didn’t know what came over him, to be honest. One minute he was determined to make things up to you and the next he felt attacked in some unfair way and he couldn’t keep it to himself.

When you walked away, he seemed to sober up immediately and he realised that he was once again the asshole in the situation. He couldn’t even blame Melanie this time, because it was his fault. Only he was responsible for how he acted and dealt with his feelings, no one else. 

And it was a real wake-up call. Over the months he and Melanie were together, his friends always made fun of him for taking her back again, or for the way they were but it was always in a throwaway comment and never serious. None of them really told him the truth of how his relationship impacted them. In one little comment of yours, that he now saw wasn’t really directed at him, it hit him that he sacrificed his friends for a relationship that was never going to lead anywhere. 

So he found himself at your door one night, a bottle of wine in one hand and a margarita pizza in the offer. It was a peace offering. Everyone loves wine and pizza, right?

“Harry?” You greeted, confused as ever when you opened the door to find that annoying man-child at your front door. The pizza and wine caught your attention immediately. “What are you doing here?” 

“Um, hi. I brought a peace offering.” He smiled sheepishly, presenting the wine and pizza to you. “I hope it’s not a bad time.”

He looked cute. A black hoodie and matching shorts with his hair up in a bun. It was a bit warm out, but he didn’t seem deterred by it. 

You should’ve shut the door on him considering how the last conversation between you went and how he had been ignoring you like a child the last couple of weeks. He avoided you at any group catch-ups and even went as far as to completely bail on the poker night you hosted at your place so he wouldn’t have to speak to you. 

Still… you were curious, you hadn’t eaten yet and that pizza smelt divine. 

So you stepped aside and let him in. “Come in.”

“Thank you.” He looked around your house, immediately feeling such a sense of home and peace in there. It was open-planned, a cute townhouse where the front door went straight into the living room, dining and kitchen area. From the door, he could see your stairs going up. Along the way up were a series of arty nature photographs of the Australian coast and landmarks. Did you take them? “Um… would you like shoes off?” 

Now that was unexpected. You really thought he’d jump straight on your couch without an invitation to do so. “Yes, please. I’ll uh, take these.” 

Grabbing the pizza and wine from him, you let him slide his shoes off while you brought them both to your couch. Then, you went back to your kitchen to grab two classes. “So you clearly know my address, any reason you couldn’t come to poker night?”

“I was embarrassed,” Harry admitted, standing near the front door a little awkwardly while you pottered around to grab glasses and plates. Well you didn’t expect that response. “The way I behaved that night… it was unacceptable. I guess I got too nervous coming here when our only two interactions were shitty.”

“Hmm. But you’re here now?” you raised a brow, motioning to the couch to invite him to sit while you settled in your favourite corner on it. “With no buffers or witnesses?” 

He followed your lead and sat beside you, keeping an appropriate distance. “Well… I thought if you didn’t accept my apology and wanted to punch me instead, at least there wouldn’t be anyone to stop you.” 

“How chivalrous.” You snorted, trying to resist the smile trying to play on your lips. Even though he was an ass to you, there was still something about Harry that drew you to him. And it wasn’t the gorgeous hair or those green eyes of his. 

“I try to be.” He shrugged, passing you a plate from the coffee table before opening the pizza box. “One or two?” Looking back at you, he found you keenly observing him. 

He wasn’t sure what you were thinking, but he found your expression both attractive and unnerving. That seemed to be a common experience around you. You both managed to turn him on and scare him at the same time without even trying.

“Two.” 

He used a napkin to grab the slices for you before passing the plate and grabbing his own. Once he settled back into the couch, he took a couple bites of his pizza in one go while looking around the room. It felt like he was avoiding your eye contact a little and the air was turning a little awkward because of it. 

He didn’t seem like a nervous person and it wasn’t what you had observed when he was away from Melanie and meeting new people or flirting with a girl at the bar. Were you making him nervous?

“You’ve got a really nice place.” He complimented, trying to fill the silence. 

“Thanks.” You were getting a little impatient, you couldn’t lie. You were curious why he brought a peace offering and was offering no peace. “So… pizza and wine as a peace offering, huh?” you took a bite from your pizza and adjusted in your cross-legged position to be facing him more. 

Despite everything that happened between you two, it felt kinda… normal to be sitting here together eating pizza. A little awkward, sure, but it wasn’t super uncomfortable like you imagined the next time you saw him would be.

“Yeah…” Harry covered his mouth with his hand as he swallowed his bite before he set the pizza down on the coffee table to grab his wine instead. He took your words as a prompt to start talking, like the push he needed to talk about it all. “Listen, I’m really sorry for what happened at the bar. I don’t know what came over me and I…I never should’ve spoken to you like that.”

You nodded, mirroring his actions to set your pizza down and grab your wine instead. It was clear this was going to be a big conversation. “I wasn’t trying to insult you, Harry. The first time I was, but not the second time.”

“I know.” He cracked a smile at your comment before it fell quickly as he looked down at his lap. “I know… I guess it just hit me harder than I thought. And I know that’s not an excuse but that one… comment was more honest than anything anyone else has said to me.”

“Why?” your brows furrowed, confused by what he meant. Melanie and him had been broken up for weeks at this point. “Hasn’t anyone else spoken to you about Melanie?”

“Not really.” Harry shrugged, looking back at you with a soft expression. He was slowly relaxing further into the conversation, getting comfier against the back of the couch while his finger traced the rim of his wine glass. “I think they all think we’ll get back together again. They’re not convinced we’re actually over.”

“But you are, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” He nodded, voice clear and definitive. “For good this time.”

You weren’t sure what to say, to be honest. In all this time, all these weeks and months of them being together and no one talked to him about Melanie? No one gave him a wake-up call or at the very least asked him if he was okay after this final breakup? Everyone had complained to you about them at some point or another, even if you didn’t really know either of them, yet no one had said something to them directly?

That felt extremely wrong. This entire time you thought Harry was just oblivious to the irritation of his friends. That he let them be annoyed and complain and didn’t care that his relationship ruined basically every social outing the group had. 

But they never said a damn thing. You didn’t get it. How could they sit there and watch him fall back in the same toxic cycle over and over again when it was clear he wasn’t going to get out of it himself?

“You want me to be honest, Harry?”

“Yes. Please.”

“I think your relationship with Melanie was toxic and no one did anything to stop you two from getting back together. It’s not healthy or fair to fall onto the same hurt over and over again. For both of you. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah… I see that now.” He looked down at his glass.

Shuffling closer to him, you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You can talk about it if you want.” You offered. You weren’t even that upset with him anymore, to be honest. You kinda felt bad for him. “Or you don’t have to. Whatever you like. I can put something on instead?” 

“I don’t want to unload on you, y/n. Tonight wasn’t about that.” Looking at you, you could read the hurt in his eyes. Even though he and Melanie were annoying together, you couldn’t imagine what it was like to actually be in that relationship.  

“I’m okay with it. We still have half a pizza and a bottle of wine to get through.” You offered a casual smile, leaning forward to grab the bottle and refill your glasses. He gave you a look, almost asking if you were sure to which you just nodded in return.

Harry took a heavy sip of his wine before starting his story. “When I was with her I knew it wasn’t healthy…” 

Harry wasn’t sure why, but he felt comfortable speaking to you about his relationship. Maybe because you were actually honest, or maybe because you just looked really pretty and he was a sucker for a pretty girl. 

Once he started opening up a bit more about it, it only got easier to keep talking. You gave honest, solid advice and comfort and he appreciated every moment of it. Your eyes were soft, expression the same and while you still gave your little sarcastic remarks here and there, you were never snarky towards him. 

“…yeah I dunno. I guess it was just easy and…” He looked away, stopping himself from saying more. He was tipsy by this point and he was already about to talk about his sex life with you. 

“And what?” 

“And the sex was really fucking good.” He admitted with a little laugh, taking a sip of his wine. You smiled, not expecting that. “I think it was the only thing we had in common.”

“You don’t need to be in a fucked relationship to have good sex, Harry.”

“Yeah… but it makes it more interesting I guess.” He shrugged, half-joking and half-serious. 

“You’re telling me you’ve never had interesting sex before Melanie? I find that hard to believe.”

Seriously? The guy was walking, talking sex. There was no doubt in your mind that he had something raw and dirty in his time. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he cocked his head, smirking because he knew exactly what you meant. 

He scanned you head to toe and it was like you could physically feel the heat in a path following his gaze. It made you hot all over, especially when the air seemed to suddenly get denser and heavier, like it was preparing for a knife to try and cut through it to break the tension.

The heat was starting to swirl in your core, building higher and higher like a balloon about to burst. You wanted him to touch you, like an itch you couldn’t scratch yourself. 

“I mean, seriously Harry.” you huffed, looking away for a moment to catch your breath. “I know you look in the mirror every day and tell yourself how good-looking you are. You don’t need to lie. And you don’t need to lie about your luck getting someone in your bed either.”

He laughed, running a hand through his hair before settling his wine glass on the coffee table in front of the couch. “I could say the same about you.” his fingers danced along the back of the couch, finding your bare shoulder and grazing against your skin ever so softly. It sent a shiver up your spine and Harry could see the way your eyes hazed over a little. Arousal. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You eyed his fingers before looking back at him. “Now you still haven’t answered my question.” You cleared your throat, finishing off the last sip of your wine so you could set it down next to Harry’s. The brief break from his touch allowed you to catch your breath, but those same nimble fingers returned to your shoulder the moment you settled back into the couch. 

“And what’s that?” He raised a brow, taking his touch up a notch to trail a finger up your shoulder to your neck. 

“Before Melanie… did you…” you couldn’t even finish the sentence, not when his finger moved to your jaw and he cupped it fully, letting his thumb run over your bottom lip. His eye contact was heavy, eyelids drooping slightly in a hooded gaze that had you crumbling on the inside. 

“Did I fuck a pretty little thing?” Harry cocked his head, running his tongue over his teeth while he dragged his eyes over your frame. Every word was low, pronounced and seductive. You were practically squirming in your seat. “Did I have someone underneath me, moaning… writhing… begging as I touched them until they came? Yeah. Found it pretty damn interesting too.”

Oh god. 

“I hate you.” You groaned, letting your hand fall to his thigh. 

“Why?” He mused, lowering his hand so it was properly wrapped around the front of your neck. 

“Because I should still be annoyed at you.”

“And you’re not?” Smirking, Harry relished in the feeling of your pulse growing faster under his touch. He liked making you nervous. 

“Not so much anymore.”

He took that as his sign to swoop in. His hands cupped your face and guided your mouth to his, sealing them together in a searing kiss that quite literally took your breath away. You cupped his face in return and kissed back eagerly, loving how your mouths melted together. They moved in sync, his tongue running over the seam of your mouth and dipping in when you welcomed him in gladly. 

He knew exactly how to kiss and what to do to get you all hot and heavy. It was working pretty damn fast too.

You squeezed his thigh, moving upwards towards the growing bulge in his pants. “This okay?” You breathed, only breaking the kiss to speak before you kissed him again. 

There was something addictive about kissing him. His lips were sweet, soft and moved like he knew exactly what he was doing. All you could think about was how those same lips would feel all over your body… your neck… your chest… between your thighs. 

“Yes. God yes.” He groaned, sliding his hand along your waist and feeling your body. “This okay?”

“Uhuh. You can touch me anywhere.” 

Can? Need. You needed him to touch you anywhere. 

“Yeah?” He smirked, sliding his hand down to hang around your neck again. “Anywhere? That’s a big word.”

“If you think you can handle it, yes. Anywhere.”

It was a challenge, one he wanted to rise to. Literally. 

“Oh, I can handle it.” 

He leaned in to kiss you again and this time things moved a lot faster. His hands were on your ass, your thighs, anywhere he could touch while you were eagerly trying to get his hoodie and t-shirt off. 

“Eager, are we?” He teased, lifting his arms so you could shove the bunch of fabric off him.

“Shut up.” You groaned, fisting the hair at the back of his head and pulling backwards to release it from his hair tie. It fell onto the couch somewhere, but Harry didn’t seem to care when you used his hair to drag him in for another kiss.

He hissed at the sting of his scalp, but it only turned him on further and he fucking loved it. Your attitude was one of your most attractive qualities, among all the other things about you that turned him on.

Before you knew it he was dragging you over his lap, manoeuvring your bodies so you were straddling him with your core right against his cock. It was hard beneath you and you could already feel how big he was just from sitting on top of him.

“This isn’t a thing.” You panted, breaking the kiss so you could pull your tank top off with a little help from Harry’s eager hands. 

“What?” He was too busy staring at your bare chest to even register what you had just said. God, you were perfect. 

His mouth found your neck while one hand palmed at your breast, eliciting a breathy moan that had you distracted from what you wanted to say to him. Between his mouth on your skin and his hard cock pressed right to your core, you were so damn worked up all he had to do was touch your nipple and you were in ecstasy. 

It had been a while since you slept with someone. After coming back from Sydney, you were too busy reconnecting with friends and family, setting up your new home and bouncing back to work to even think about a man. Because of that, every touch was electric. 

“I’m not a rebound.” Sliding a hand through the hair at the nape of his neck, you tugged his head back and forced him to look at you. His eyes were blown with lust, mouth all red and swollen from your desperate kisses. It was obscene. “And I’m not about to enter some psycho-codependent relationship with you. Okay?”

“Okay” He nodded, licking his lips while running his hands over your ass and up your bare back. “Okay.” 

Satisfied with his answer, you leaned back in to kiss him. With firm hands on your ass, he ground you against him with purpose, both of you simultaneously moaning into each other's mouths at that one touch. 

There was something so underrated about grinding like this. Kissing and just touching without anything real happening. It got that fire ignited inside, one that had you breathless and so goddamn wet it was soaking through your shorts. 

“Take me to my room.” You panted, angling your head back so he could kiss your neck again. It was a sweet spot for you. Any touch and you were dizzy and squirming. 

“Yes.” He agreed, tucking his hands under your ass to hoist you up. “Guide the way.”

“Upstairs. Turn left.” 

You held onto him tight, legs wrapped around his hips and hands in his hair while you nipped at his mouth and his neck, anywhere just to touch him. God had you missed touching a man, feeling a man. Harry would’ve had to be one of the better choices out there, a great choice depending on how well he pleased you. 

Something told you he’d have no issue pleasing you though. 

“Let me say sorry.”

He lowered you to the bed and knelt between your legs, looking down at you with blown eyes. His hair was already messy from all your tugging and was covering his eyes a little with the way his head was tilted. 

He was so damn built too. His tattoos fit his body like pieces of a big piece of art, every single one in perfect placement and design. He had silly ones, some even questionable but they all fit him. There wasn’t one there, including that mermaid that you didn’t love. He looked glorious. Like Tarzan or some model on a Calvin Klein shoot. But you’d never tell him that. 

“I’ve always liked a bit of grovelling.” You grinned, propping yourself up on your elbows. 

“I’ve been called an expert in it.” 

He dipped his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and started tugging them down while he dipped his head to kiss along your stomach. It dropped on impact, those wonderful butterflies fluttering around like they knew what was coming. 

“That’s a…” you inhaled a sharp breath when your shorts were thrown behind him, leaving you completely before him. “That’s a big claim to make.”

He looked down at you with a look so feral your insides started to twist and he had barely even touched you yet. Looking back up at you, he smoothed his hands over your thighs, forcing them to spread wider and flatter on the bed. “You’re really pretty, y/n.” Then while maintaining eye contact he dipped down and pressed a single kiss to your mound. “I’m looking forward to apologising.”

Harry watched as your jaw went slack and your head lulled back at his first taste, the first contact his tongue made with your sweet, dripping pussy. He audibly groaned, running his thumbs along your inner thighs while he dipped in to have another taste, licking a wide stripe from your entrance to your clit. 

“Oh fuck.” You cursed, back arching off the bed at the initial feeling of Harry’s mouth against your clit. He dipped his tongue out, using the very tip over your clit in a purposed, heavy pattern that had you squirming within minutes. 

“You taste so fucking good.” He groaned, using his thumb to pull back your clitoral hood so he could suckle on your clit properly. You had an instant knee-jerk reaction and tried to slam your knees around his head, but he was quick to flatten his forearms against your thighs to keep them wide open for him. All with a cheeky smile on that kissable mouth of his. “I’ve thought about this a lot y’know. Every damn time you wear those short skirts.”

“Yeah?” You moaned, reaching out to push his hair from his face, forming a secure grip on the gathered hair. It was incredible and you were having a hard time controlling your body and your noise. “Must’ve thought about it a lot then.”

“Mhmm.” He hummed against you, “wanted to make you scream. Wanted to have you dripping in my mouth like honey. Gonna do that now, actually.”

His words were obscene. The whole fucking thing was obscene, actually. Harry was getting into eating your pussy like no man had ever done before. His eyes were closed in bliss as he lapped and sucked at your clit like it was his job and every single touch seemed to ripple pleasure through your body. 

“Feel good?” Harry mused, observing how squirmy you became when he circled your entrance with a single finger. But he didn’t slide it into you just yet. He wanted you to beg for it. “Tell me you want it, angel. Say it.”

All you could do was nod and tighten your grip in his hair to pull him closer, telling him with your body that you needed it. You needed more. 

“Ah. Words y/n.” he tutted, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your clit. “Beg for it.” 

You wanted to resist, purely to irritate him and not give in so quickly. But you wanted it. Needed it and you couldn’t have cared less how it happened. And you couldn’t lie… having him demand you to beg was so damn hot. His control and dominance weren’t overbearing in any way and you loved it.

“Please.”

A smirk curled on his lips at the plea. He rewarded it by wrapping his lips around your clit and giving it a nice long suck, enough to have you crying out and scratching your nails roughly against his scalp. 

“Again. Say it again. Need to hear it. Need it.” He coaxed.

“Please.”

“Good girl.” Harry rewarded, finally slipping his finger inside of you. He had a smooth silver ring around the base and didn’t bother taking it off beforehand. Its cool temperature made you shiver, wedding to the pleasure once that moment of searching for that spongey spot ended and he found it.

God, it had you seeing stars. He curled his finger perfectly, stimulating that sensitive area while his lips returned to your clit like they belonged there. 

“So sweet y’know that. So goddamn sweet. Could eat you every fucking day, sweetheart.”

The pleasure was building up, tightening your core and making your legs start to vibrate at the beginning of your orgasm. 

“Harry.” It sounded like the sound of a beg, a plea. But you weren’t really sure what you were begging for, just that you needed him to know how good he was making you feel.

“What angel? Tell me. Say it.” 

You couldn’t. You didn’t even know what to say. 

“You gonna cum, is that it?” His words vibrated against your clit, lips brushing against you as he lapped at it between words and hums of his own enjoyment. Every curl of his finger, every vibrate of a moan had you crying louder, fisting his hair harder. “Can feel you squeezing ‘round me, angel. Can only imagine how good you’re gonna feel squeezing ‘round my cock instead. Dripping over it. Making a big mess of me.” 

That did it. Those filthy words mixed in with the thought of his cock replacing his finger and you were a goner. Your legs squeezed around his head, only one being held down by his hand while the other hooked over his shoulder and dug into his back until he was basically trapped between your thighs.

The pleasure rolled in waves and Harry coaxed you all the way through, but when the pleasure subsided and you melted back into the bed he didn’t stop. No. he wanted another.

“Harry…”

“C’mon angel, give me another. You can do it. Let me say sorry.”

His butterfly voice was hypnotic, and you found yourself wanting to do everything he wanted. Not that you were complaining about getting another orgasm.

Harry slid in a second finger and focused on tracing patterns along your clit while he opened you up wider for him. He wanted to prep you, to stretch you so his cock would slide in easier and wouldn’t hurt you. 

“Godddd. You’re so good at that…” You gasped, feeling your second wave roll over you in barely two minutes. You could do that yourself easily, but you were impressed at how Harry managed to do it. He was just so precise in his pleasure, so focused and determined. Harry didn’t rush, he was just good at it. 

“So I’ve been told,” Harry smirked, licking his fingers clean he kissed his way up your body to your mouth. 

“You’re so cocky. And here I thought I made you nervous.” you groaned between kisses, hands in his hair while you hooked your leg around his hip to draw his body closer.

“You do.” He mused, hand on your jaw to press your head to the bed so he could start kissing along it. “In a good way… means I want to impress you.”

“I’m not easy to impress.” You breathed, melting further into the bed as he nipped at your neck. 

“Guess I gotta try harder then.” He smirked, hearing your breath hitch when he reached a particular spot. Got it. He soon made his way back to your mouth, “Now tell me… how do you want it?” His grip was firm on your jaw as his lips ghosted yours, moving against yours with every firm word. 

You already knew how you wanted it. You had thought about this a lot more than you should’ve to be honest. Considering you thought he was an asshole basically the entire time you knew him, you thought about him fucking you a lot.

“Want it from behind.”

He groaned at your response, nipping at your bottom lip and dragging it back with a pop. “I think I’m in love with you” he spoke while sitting back on his haunches. He looked down at you, resting his hands on your hips while you propped yourself onto your elbows again. 

“Fuck off” you laughed, “no psycho-codependency, remember?” 

“Sure…” he smirked, leaning over you to kiss you once more. “Turn over, angel.” 

Neither of you were sure where ‘Angel’ came from but it just worked. God did it work. Every time his smooth, seductive voice uttered that endearment your pussy spasmed. 

You followed his instruction and turned yourself over while he got rid of his shorts. It was only then that he realised he had no condoms on him. Harry wasn’t expecting anything to happen between you two tonight, nor were you. 

“Fuck. I don’t have a condom.” He cursed, running a hand through his hair as he settled behind you. 

“No.” You groaned, turning around to face him. You both just stared at each other for a second. You weren’t on any birth control, nor did you have any condoms either. There wasn’t really a point in having any when no one was coming around. 

But you were both ready. Both naked and turned on and neither of you wanted to stop. Stupid? Yeah, probably. 

“Pull out?” Harry suggested, brow raised. His eyes dropped to your breasts for a moment, unable to help himself when you were right there and so damn pretty. 

“Yeah… fuck it. Pull out.” Your eyes did the same thing, landing on his cock. His long… heavy… big cock. Yeah, it was worth risking the pull-out method. 

“Turn around, y/n. I can’t wait any longer when you look at me like that.” He groaned, giving your ass a quick spank as you turned back around which elicited a yelp and glare in his direction.

“Ass.” 

“I’d apologise, but I’m not sorry.” He chuckled, running his hands over your cheeks. You sighed and dropped your forehead to the duvet beneath you, loving the feeling of his hands on your ass. “God, y/n. You’re so goddamn pretty.”

Smoothing his hand up your back, he gave his cock a few tugs for good measure with the other. He was properly obsessed with you, he couldn’t help it. Just looking down at you, bent over with your pretty holes on display for him had his mouth watering.

“Harry…” you whined a little, propping yourself up on your elbows so you could look over your shoulder. Now he was just drawing it out. He guided the head of his cock to your folds and drew it up and down, purposefully directing it over your clit. 

You pushed back against it, trying to get him to just fuck you for real. If he was as talented with his mouth and fingers as his cock, you knew you’d be in for a treat and you were getting desperate. 

“Ah.” He tutted, spanking you quickly while pulling his hips back completely so he lost all contact with you. “You want it, angel? Tell me how bad you need it.”

“Don’t tease, Harry. Please, just fu-ohh” 

Your words broke when he finally pushed into you. That initial feeling of him stretching you out had both of you sighing loudly. There was nothing like it. No feeling that could quite compare to that fullness you felt. It crept up your spine into your back, making you feel all heavy and lulled like you were under some spell.

“Jesus, y/n.” 

His fingers did little to prep you for his dick. He was big and while he entered slowly, carefully, the stretch was painfully sinful. You couldn’t help but like it, and Harry could tell too by the way you seemed to get wetter when he pushed into you until he couldn’t anymore. 

“God, Angel. You’re so-fuck.” 

“Ugh Harry I-you’re so…” you didn’t want to finish it, but you didn’t really have to because you both knew what each other meant. 

With a little check-in and an enthusiastic ‘go’, he started fucking into you properly. It took a few thrusts for your pussy to open up to him fully, for his cock to be properly surrounded by you. And when it did… God, you were both in ecstasy. 

He got in a steady rhythm, using your hips as leverage. His fingertips dug into you, marking your skin with bruises you hoped you’d have for weeks. 

This might never happen again. It probably would never happen again and any reminder of this night, of this incredible sex with a man who apologised with pizza, wine and orgasms was something you’d gladly have. 

And he filled you so goddamn good, how could you not want a constant reminder of it? Just having him inside you was pleasurable. The stretch and his sheer size hit every sweet spot that existed and your head was spinning in pleasure; dizzy and heavy, all consumed with nothing but him.

“More… Go harder.” Flipping your hair over to one side, you looked back at him, “Harder.”

“More? Fuck ‘s like you’re made for me, angel.” He groaned, fulfilling your plea and delivering harder, faster thrusts. Crying out, your head dipped between your shoulders, arms getting shakier with every punishing thrust. 

It was exactly what you needed. With every thrust, every rough snap of his hips you were moaning louder and louder. You couldn’t even hold yourself up anymore. Your head was a dead weight on your shoulders, heavy and dug into the duvet while you fisted it in your hands. 

You could barely breathe or think. Couldn’t even keep your hips up above the bed. He was rocking into you so hard, so fast your knees kept widening on the bed and you couldn’t do anything about it. If it weren’t for Harry’s concrete grip on your hips and periodic adjustment, they’d have flattened by now in complete jelly. 

“Fill me so good, Harry. Feels so good” you cried, panting and clawing at the duvet. 

“I know. Fucking Jesus I know. You’re taking me so well, y/n. Feel so fucking good wrapped around me.” 

Wrapping a hand around your hair, he roughly pulled your head back, eliciting a gasp and whimper at that sting of your scalp. “Wanna hear you y/n. Wanna hear you scream my name.”

“Harry.”

“I know. I know.” He cooed. 

The sight of your bare back was doing sinful things to Harry. He scanned it from your neck, going all the way down to where you two were connected. It would’ve had to be the most erotic thing he had ever seen. 

You were wet everywhere. Your cream coated his cock and was dripping down his bells and fuck, every time his cock pushed into you more seemed to drip out. It was killing him. 

“If only you could see this…. Fucking hell.” He muttered to himself, letting go of your hair to swipe his finger through your arousal. He wiped it over your ass, feeling a little turned on in a fucked way at seeing it on your skin. His mark on your skin. 

You were getting there again. That swirl of desire and pleasure was building up in your core at an alarming rate and you knew you wouldn’t be able to do anything to hold it off once that wave rolled over.

Harry could feel it too. Not only his own orgasm but yours. You were fluttering around him, tensing just like the rest of your body was. You were getting stiff all over and the noises leaving your lips were something Harry had only heard in his dreams. 

You were just so goddamn pretty. He wasn’t sure this could be a one time thing. 

“You getting close, sweetheart? I am. Just feel too good around me, Angel. Can’t help it.” He murmured, caressing your skin with his thumbs. His thrusts were going sloppy, uncoordinated like he couldn’t control himself anymore. 

“Can you finish yourself off, f’me? Fuck- gotta pull out.”He pulled out before you answered, needing to otherwise he’d finish off inside you and that was the last thing you two needed. 

Whining at the feeling of him pulling out, you agreed nonetheless in a floaty “uhuh,” while reaching between your legs to join your fingers to your clit. 

“Jesus-angel fuck. Where do you want it?” Harry cursed, head dipping low as he jerked himself off to the finish line, squeezing himself at the base to hold himself back until you responded. 

“Anywhere, anywhere. Oh god. Harry” You cried, your orgasm waving over you in a shaky, rush of ecstasy that had you crying into the bed and collapsing in a bit of a heap. 

You felt his cum paint your back a moment later, joined with a whine of your name that fizzled into a sigh once he was finished. You both slumped in your positions, finally letting your hips drop down while Harry sat back on his haunches to calm down. 

Neither of you knew what to say, or how to feel. Your chemistry was unmatched and even if you didn’t voice it, you both could agree that the sex was really fucking good. Some of the best you ever had, even. 

Harry had a secret hope this would happen again. But at the same time, he couldn’t delude himself. You were pretty clear about what you wanted. 

But hey, maybe it didn’t matter. All he wanted was to have you not hate him by the end of the night and he felt like he succeeded. You wouldn’t have fucked him if he didn’t.

Yeah… looking at himself painted on your back, Harry knew you two would get along. 

━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━

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“He has like four layers of clothing, lovie. It’s okay.” you said as you approached him and took the boy from his arms, kissing his forehead softly before placing him on the pram.

After Harry checked that his baby was comfortable and warm one final time, all of you headed outside, enjoying the greenery and homely atmosphere that made you fall in love with the neighborhood when you and Harry were looking for a house before getting married.

“Do you remember last year?” Harry broke the comfortable silence, the rest of his family was walking a few steps ahead so only you could hear him, “We were walking around here too, and you were thrilled because our first Christmas dinner was a success.”

“I remember,” you looked up at him, melting at the sight of him pushing the pram where your baby was comfortably laying, “It was our first Christmas as a married couple at our own house, I needed to make a good impression.”

“And you did, wifey,” he winked at you, “Remember that I also said that we would be parents by next Christmas?” he smiled widely at his own words, “And look at us now.”

“You did say that,” you mimicked his smile, “What? Were you already planning when to knock me up back then?”

He shrugged before grabbing your head from the side and placing a kiss on the crown of it.

“I always knew I wanted you to be the mother of my children, I mean have you seen him? He’s perfect just like you are.”

“Come on, he looks just like you,” you rolled your eyes with affection, “I’m actually kinda pissed about it, I carried him inside of me for nine months and he came out as a carbon copy of you.”

“Don’t worry, baby. When we have a girl she’s going to look exactly like you. Perfect little thing like her mama.”

“And I assume that’s in your plans for next year?”

“That’s in my plans for next year.”

Harry hummed, holding his arms out for her to walk into. She did, but only embraced him with half of her body, one arm curling around his waist loosely while the other stayed swaying by her side. In both of their opinions, it was way too short to even be considered a hug, not even close to being an embrace, but Y/N did it purposely. Harry frowned, feeling a twinge of hurt at her unusual lack of affection. “Um… Are y- are y’going out?” 

She laughed falsely, shaking her head and turning her body to face the large windows in their apartment. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” 

Harry was still confused. “What d’you mean?” 

It’s now or never, Y/N thought, and mustered her bravest smile as she pivot turned to face him again. “I’m leaving, Harry. I’m going up to New York to stay with Eliza. I don’t know when I’ll be home, but I’ll be sure to let you know in advance, is that okay?” 

A few beats pass, Harry staring at her in disbelief. “What the fuck? No, no, s’not okay! Why- why are y’leaving? Y’didn’t even tell me? When were you planning on telling me y’were leaving?” 

“I’ve been planning on leaving for a long time, Harry. I was actually meant to leave before you even got home, really, but you’re early.” She sighed, rubbing at her temple and knowing the fight that was about to ensue. 

“Why are y’leaving?” Harry’s voice started to grow in volume, becoming harder and harsher as he tightened his hands into balled fists, trying to channel his feelings in another way rather than yelling at his girlfriend. 

“I’m leaving because I can’t do this anymore, Harry. I cant keep arguing with you every day, it’s just not fair to me. And it’s not fair to you either, really, so I’m just… taking the stress off of the both of us and making the bold decision to leave.” She explains, moving to grab her suitcases from the hallway and roll them into the living room. 

“That’s wha’ this is about? The fight we had last night?” He asks, eyes widening and mouth drying at the sight of her multiple suitcases. 

“Um— not entirely, I guess. I’ve meant to go up to visit Eliza, if you remember, we were going to but you had um— a party, that you needed to attend. So I just decided to book a flight last night after you went to sleep.” She's as quiet as a mouse, her words not staggering but it was physically obvious that she was nervous. 

“So what now? Is that it? You’re just… throwing away four years of my- of our fucking life?” Harry spat. She’d started to shrink into herself quite a bit, sweaty palms running over the now warm black handle of her small suitcase. 

“I’m not throwing away anything, Harry. We had a fight, you and I both said some nasty things, and I’m just going up to my sister's house for a little bit to clear my head. Like I said, I was meaning to go up anyway. This isn’t really about you, Harry, as much as you think it might be. I’ve been miserable here all alone and all I want is to be with someone who I know can provide me with love and attention right now, which is what I need. You need it too.” She tried to hold her ground but the tremble in her soft voice made her feel weak. 

She and Harry had gotten into a multitude of arguments within the past weeks that he had been off tour. It started from little things, like a sock being thrown over the laundry basket and not inside of it, or one of them leaving their dirty tea mugs on the counter when the sink was right there! But as small and insignificant as these things were, they also grew into arguments about bigger issues. One of the more nasty arguments had pushed her to pack her bags and book a plane ride up to her sister’s house in New York. 

The argument on the table this time around was that whenever Harry was home after an elongated amount of time on the road, he would treat Y/N as if she was his friend and not girlfriend of three years. She’d had a problem with this seeing as all she ever wanted him to do was love her and take care of her, and for some reason she couldn’t help but feel he found that hard. 

“Bullshit. I know y’leaving ‘cause your feelings got hurt or whatever, but you know y’don’t have to leave, pup. We can resolve this, don’t we always?” He grumbles, taking a few small steps forward to meet her where she stood by the door. 

“It’s entirely different this time, Harry.” She sighed, bending down to sit on the floor since she knew they’d probably be there for a while. 

“How?! How could this be any fuckin’ different? We’re jus’ arguin’ are we not?” Harry runs a stressed hand through his hair, trying to channel his energy away from his voice. Though he tried to refrain from allowing his anger to seep its way into his voice, his girlfriend could still pick up on the edge that lined his vocal chords. 

“No, baby. We aren’t just arguing. This is me trying to tell you how I feel, and you keep pushing it aside. So this isn’t just us arguing anymore, I guess I’m surrendering. I’m tired of doing this with you whenever you’re home, Harry. I’m alone every day, 24/7, and then you come home and it’s like nothing has changed. Which I love, I love how we can just bounce back, but sometimes I need more love or attention when you come back, and I just…” She starts to gnaw on her lips, trying to word her next thought carefully. “I’m tired of being treated like your friend rather than your girlfriend.” 

“What?” 

“Mhm. Besides me being alone all the time, whenever I do have you— or people around, you only ever want to keep me at arms length. The whole world knows we’re together, Harry. You’ve posted on my birthday and it’s no secret to anyone anymore. I… I just can’t understand why you do that, really. It makes me feel like I’m just your friend and not your lover.” She pauses, inhaling a sharp breath of air and willing her tears away. 

“What do you— what do you even mean? I’m always with you whenever I’m home, I bring y’everywhere w’me?” His anger just kept growing and growing, but this time he noticed that the weight of guilt that was sitting on his heart had gotten heavier with every breath he took, the weight of the pull almost being able to bring him to his knees.

She lets out a wet laugh, shaking her head before dropping it in defeat. “Harry… I hate to bring it up but— you’ve been home for what, three weeks now? We haven’t had sex, we barely have cuddled, you don’t put your arm around me in public or kiss my cheek. I— I feel like I’m losing you. It’s so hard to love you when you won’t let me. I’ve tried to be understanding and just trying to accept the fact that you’re readjusting to our normal life but… I miss you. The only time we talk for longer than a few minutes is when we fight, and that’s not okay. You know how much you mean to me, but I just can’t keep trying to love someone you aren’t anymore. It’s just too destructive to me and I just can’t. I’m sorry, Harry. I hope you can understand, and I’ll be back whenever we’re ready.” 

Harry’s now shaking with sobs. Uncontrollable, messy, heartbreaking sobs. Her words were finally making sense to him. All of the arguments had finally made sense. She was arguing with him just so he would talk to her. He thought he could die with the amount of guilt squeezing his heart right now. 

“I love you, isn’t that enough?” He whispered. 

“I don’t think it is anymore, Harry.” Lifting herself up to her feet, she rolls her suitcase to stand behind her, taking a few small steps to be inches away from her Harry. “I’ll be back, H. I promise.” 

Placing a kiss to his wet cheek, he watched her walk away with a damp smile, and against his will, engrained the image of her leaving to his mind. 

This wasn’t how he imagined they would end. 

He didn’t even entertain the thought of them ever ending; but now he feels like he just lost every single atom of his being in the quickest of moments. 

—

It was hell. 

Harry could say with full conviction that it was absolute hell to be in that house, that big house on the beach, alone. 

Nothing felt right. From the second he woke up in the morning, to the minute he slid his legs under the covers at night, he almost felt nauseous because of how unusual he felt. How unusual everything felt. 

And it was all his fault. 

Picking up his phone, he goes to text his sweet girl again when he decides to scroll up to find the reprieve of gray amongst the sea of blue. 

Harry: Please text me when you land. 

Harry: I love you, please don’t forget that. 

Harry: Take all the time you need, Angel. I’m here if you need me. I’m so sorry.

Harry: I’ll be waiting for you when you get home. Just say the word and I’ll get you a ticket. 

Harry: Take your time though, please be safe. I love you.

Harry: Again

Y/N: just landed. kinda busy rn, talk to you later bug

Harry: That’s okay, be safe. ❤️

Y/N loved this message

Harry: I love you 

Y/N: yeah love you too h

Allowing his head to drop onto the back of the sofa, his arm fell limp onto his thigh, his green eyes scanned the interior of the living room, twinges of pain and guilt panting in his chest whenever he’d land his gaze on something that was proprietarily hers. 

Her growing orchids in a handmade pot that they’d painted together on their first Valentine’s Day as a couple. 

The godawful mirror she thrifted from a random corner store back in her hometown that she begged Harry to put up. 

A small canvas filled with tiny paintings of inside jokes and memorable dates that she gifted to him last Christmas. He allowed himself to trace over that painting for a little longer than the rest of the small things placed among their living room. 

11/29/19. The first time they met. 

1/16/21. When Harry asked her to be his girlfriend. 

4/07/21. The first time they said I love you. 

12/25/22. When Harry surprised Y/N on Christmas with a down payment on a house. The one he was now residing in, alone. 

A red convertible figurine, the car they first kissed in. 

A coffee cup and a teacup, symbolizing the first date they went on, where he learned she hates tea and preferred coffee, which led to an argument on whether coffee or tea was better. 

A small tulip, representing the first bouquet of flowers he ever bought her. 

And a small pearl ring, an exact replica of the promise ring Harry had given her on their 3 year anniversary. 

He didn’t even notice the streaks of tears beginning to run down his face until he felt a teardrop fall onto his inner wrist, making him look down. 

But as he canvassed the room once more, he perked up at the sight of a small snow globe that she brought him back from New York, and that was when he got an idea. He knew it was dramatic, and a bit of a stretch, but who said he wouldn’t go to extreme lengths to get his soulmate back?

Yeah, no one ever. 

To: Eliza

Harry: Hey Liz, got a sec?

—

Harry hated flying alone. 

Since he was a teenager and stepped foot on his first plane, he was anxious even being next to someone he barely knew even though his friends were two seats away. Though he would claim that he’s always been a bit anxious and just chalking it up to flight anxiety, he knew that the real reason why he hated flying alone was because he always feared that something bad would happen on the ground when he was in the air and vice versa, and that was always his greatest vice. 

His hands began to tremble nervously as he looked out the window of the airplane, seeing nothing but fluffy white on the exterior and the soft red light of the aircraft’s wings blinking every so often. His headphones were placed over his head, smushing his curls down flat onto his head, a mask covering the bottom half of his face. His hood was pulled up as well, trying to conceal himself as much as possible. He hadn’t brought much, just a little carry on and a small tote to shove under the seat in front of him. It was wishful thinking that he wouldn’t be there for a long while, but he brought the keys to his apartment in New York anyway. 

He kept his head hung in nausea, the speed of his shaking hands increasing tenfold. The pit in his stomach grew and he had to beg his own body to allow his eyes to not stray to the window next to him. Sure, he could close it, but he feared if it was too dark he would become more anxious than he was right now. The mask covering the bottom half of his face now felt constricting— as if he was being suffocated by the thin layer of fabric. The light douse of perfume that danced around the sunflower print of the mask couldn’t even distract him, and it only pained him more that his senses were fully encompassed by her. He bit down on his lip to distract himself by the whirling feeling of nausea that now swirled around in his throat, willing away the sick that begged to come out.

The rest of the flight was the same, his anxiety only decreasing when he allowed himself to take a small nap. However, when he woke up, his nerves had heightened when he flickered his gaze from the window to the screen in front of him, reading only 20 minutes until he was set to touch down. Grasping his phone from his hoodie pocket, he aligned it to his face then rolling his eyes when he remembered he had a mask on. Lowering his phone he typed in his password— Y/N’s birthday— and pulled up their messages again. 

Harry: Good morning baby. I love you. I hope you have a good day today!! 

Y/N: thanks h love you

He couldn’t lie and say that her being short with him didn’t hurt his feelings, because it did. He wasn’t going to avoid the fact, but that didn’t mean that he liked it regardless. He felt like a fool checking his phone so often, especially when he knew that she wouldn’t be making an effort to reach out first, but he could be hopeful, right? 

At least that’s what he’s telling himself. 

The plane landed safely, nerves rolling off of his back in waves and he was more than happy to leave his flight anxiety on the floor of the plane, relieved to not be miles high in the air. There was a lull that was obvious to Harry, and he felt himself switch to function in autopilot, waiting mindlessly to enter the aisle to retrieve his bag from the overhead compartment. 

The nippy New York air was the first thing to snap Harry out of his trance. Looking down at his phone, he felt a soft buzz and soon after felt his heart beat almost fast enough to eject from his chest. 

Y/N: saw this in a store earlier, thought of u

Y/N: Attachment: 1 Image 

Eliza: waiting near terminal b for you, lmk when you get outside 

Harry: I’m outside, can you see me?

Eliza: yep. be there in a sec

Swiping out of Y/N’s sisters messages, he went to click on Y/N’s before a black car stopped in front of him, averting his attention from his device to the car that just screeched to a halt. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he trudged forward and grabbed onto the door handle, prying it open and avoiding Eliza’s deathly stare. “Um- hiiii.” 

She scoffed. “Hi, H.” 

He throws his tote to his feet, awkwardly buckling himself in and turned in his seat, avoiding eye contact but making sure she knew that conversation was open if she’d wanted to make it. “How— um… How are you?”

Silence follows his words for a few seconds, making him heat up in embarrassment. “Good.” 

“Oh- that’s good… I, um— haven't seen y’in quite a while, Lizzy,” He says softly, guilt evident in his voice. “I missed you.” 

Eliza was basically Gemma’s best friend. They were attached at the hip the first time they met, bonding over being the eldest sisters, and shared secrets. Y/N and Harry’s family had always been interconnected, close with each other even if Y/N and Harry lacked that communication. 

They were basically soul tied in every sense of the phrase. 

“Yeah, I missed you too, H. But,” Eliza starts. “You’ve been a right dick to my sister.” 

“I know,” He whispers. 

“Do you? Fuck, H, my fucking baby sister came to me crying because of you. And you know how much I love you, truly, you know I do, but I love her more. So, I just have to ask,” She pauses, gnawing on her lip and clicking her blinker on to signal her turn. “What the hell happened?” 

“I,” He sniffs, trying to contain his emotions already begging to come out. “I don’t know.” 

Eliza snorts. “Bullshit.” 

“I— I really don’t, Lizzy. I guess I was really in m’head about… well, everything. I lo- love her so much,” Harry’s voice cracks, his facade shattering into more microscopic pieces than the most delicate sheet of glass ever could. 

“I know you do, H. That’s why this is so confusing to me. To Gems. And most importantly, to Y/N. What happened, Curly? How’d we lose you?” She begs, trying to get him to explain where he was mentally. She loved him as she would Y/N, which was the hardest part. It hurt her as much as it hurt him to confront him about the issue. 

“I don’t want her to hate me! Okay?” Harry sobs, chin falling to his chest in weakness. “I don’t want her t’hate me for being away all the time, and I’m so fucking scared. ‘M scared because the press is doing nothing but talking bad about me and I don’t know if I can equally protect her as much as she does me when this happens. When it happens t’me I jus’ ignore it, but I know she can’t do that. I know it, Lizzy, and so d’you.” 

“I know, H. I know.” She whispers. 

“I jus’ wanted to keep her as far away as I could so that if she did decide she didn’t want me anymore, it wouldn’t hurt as bad.” He murmurs so quietly, he himself even doubts if he said it out loud. 

Silence followed the rest of the car ride, the only sound filling the space of the vehicle being the soft splatter of rain on the glass windows and windshield, paired with the crackly static of the stereo. The sun even seemed to be hiding away, the sky dark with clouds, little to no light making an appearance to greet Harry’s arrival. 

Pulling up to her driveway, Eliza parked the car, keeping her ignition on so she could drive away after Harry got into the house. Turning to Harry, she chewed on her bottom lip as she traced his side profile with her eyes. “You need to tell her exactly what you told me. Word for word, Harry. You can’t keep her in the dark. She doesn’t even know I went to pick you up. So, just promise me that you’ll tell her exactly what you told me.” 

“I promise.” Harry’s voice cracked in a broken whisper, vocal cords thrumming against each other as if they were rusted. “Love you, Lizzy. Thank you.”

Stepping out of the car, he knocked on the door thrice, and tapped softly on the doorbell for good measure. His hands had gone cold with anxiousness, but he wrote it off as the stark cold weather of New York. 

“Harry? Oh my god, baby, get inside,” Y/N pulled him in immediately, pushing his thick puffer jacket off of him that was shiny with rainwater, hands coming up to pull his baby blue beanie from his hair, revealing his soft curls. They shared no words as she pulled him to the living room, where she sat the both of them down and covered the length of their torsos and legs with a big fluffy blanket. Y/N didn’t waste a second before she threw her legs over his thighs, grabbing his hands and rubbing over the cold and cracked red skin, trying to exude as much warmth from her own as much as she could. 

She’s always been warm. 

Her hands have always been graced with heat and more significantly, she always tended to carry around an aura as sweet as honey and as warm as a hug with her wherever she went. Bringing their hands up to his lips, he presses kisses all over the back of hers, kissing her knuckles and fingertips that moved erratically over his own. She could feel the dry chap of his lips on her hands and down to her wrists but she didn’t care. She didn’t mind one bit. She would rather commit the feeling of his lips on her hands to memory rather than not know what they felt like at all. 

“What’re you doing here, baby?” She asks, concern etched in her face as she lifts her head to look at him, her movements on his hands not staggering or slowing. 

“Came t’see you,” He whispers weakly. “Couldn’t bear it. I need t’see you, hold y’again… Fuck, do jus’ about anything to be near y’again.” 

Her heart twisted with the most intense emotion that she could only describe as heartbreak. “You— you got on a plane by yourself just to come see me?” 

“Would do jus’ about anything f’you, sweet girl. Of course I would go on a plane jus’ by myself if it meant I could hold you.” He admitted. He avoided eye contact with her, keeping his eyes trained on their conjoined hands that now lay stagnant on the soft fabric of the blanket. 

“Harry,” She whispers. “Why are you here, my love?” 

“I felt too guilty t’let you leave like that,” He says, gnawing on his bottom lip to will away the tears begging to escape. “I couldn’t let y’go without telling y’I loved you. And I didn’t…” He pauses, struggling for air as he over explained. “I didn’t even explain m’self. I didn’t tell you I loved you. I didn’t kiss y’back. I didn’t even tell y’to be safe.” 

He’s fully sobbing now, Y/N tracing his side profile with his eyes, jittering with fear and anxiety. “It’s okay, hey, baby, listen,” Grabbing his chin with the tips of her fingers, she turns his head to hers, resting his forehead atop of hers. “It’s okay. I forgive you. I just needed time to think and I didn’t want to lash out on you because I didn’t have time to. We’re okay, baby. I promise.” 

He shook his head while she spoke, tears falling on the fluff of the blanket with every movement. His eyes were clenched as if he was in pain, and uneven erratic breaths fell from his mouth. “Nonono. I should— should’ve listened to you. I did- didn’t mean t’treat y’like tha’,” Harry’s accent had gotten heavier with how much emotion he was feeling, stumbling over his words as if he was drunk. 

“And I should’ve explained myself more. It’s not your fault, H. Please baby, breathe,” She begged, tightening her grip on his hands as she pleaded with her nose slotted next to his, every whispered beg pushing her lips forward to lightly brush against his raw-bitten ones. “There, that’s it.” 

His breaths began to even out, just the slightest bit. His hands still shook dramatically, veins in his neck that once protruded from the force of his cries now retracting. “I’m sorry.” 

“Harry, stop apolog-“ 

“No. I have t’say this before I leave because if I don’t, I don’t think I ever will. I— I didn’t mean t’push y’away. I was trying to protect m’self but I didn’t see that it was hurting y’too. It wasn’t my intention, and now I realize it wasn’t the right thing t’do.” He sniffles, pulling back from her face to hold eye contact for the utmost emphasis on his words. 

“I tried to keep you far away because if you ended up resenting me for being away all the time it would hurt less if you decided to leave me. Paired with everything that’s being said in the media about m’right now, I tried t’keep y’as far away as I could so that if everything came crashing down on me, I would’ve had to cope with losing y’less than everything else. And I kept picking fights with y’so that if— or when y’got too fed up w’me, you’d leave me yourself instead of something else forcing y’to leave me. I think it was all subconscious, seeing how I freaked out on y’when y’told me you were leaving. I guess I didn’t really prepare myself for when it was really going t’happen. I’m really, really sorry, Angel. I really do hope y’can forgive me.” 

She’s silent. It scares him, he can’t lie. He takes her silence as an answer and pulls his hands from her grasp and moves her legs softly off of his thighs, standing up and brushing off his pants in an attempt to stall. She’s still mute, and he takes it as his cue to go. There’s still tears streaming down his face, but they’re silent. Like he doesn’t even want to acknowledge that they’re falling at all. 

“I love you.” He whispers, before turning and walking to the door. Placing his hand on the knob, he turns it, and his heart follows the motion with a sharp twist that he thinks he feels in his entire body. He’s gnawing in his lip to avoid breaking down in front of her, even though she’s arguably seen him at his worst and most vulnerable times. Opening the door, he’s greeted with the harsh cold air, biting at his skin so aggressively he feels like his tears have now frozen to his face. Bearing the pain, he forced himself to take the step out the doorway and onto the porch, on autopilot as he let his feet decide his motions. 

“Harry, wait,” Y/N pleaded, running out behind him, meeting him in the middle of the driveway in nothing but tiny shorts and a stolen crewneck of his that she'd haphazardly stuffed into her luggage. “I love you. I love you more than I could probably ever explain, and I— I just need you to know that. If you’re done with me or done with this, that’s okay, I just need you to know that I love you.” 

“I love you. Always.” He whispers, lips trembling with sadness. 

“You know I always will, right?” She asks, placing a warm hand onto his wet and cold cheek.

“I know, baby. I do.” He says. 

“I’m here whenever you want me. I promise.” She pleads, coming up to reach his lips, placing a soft kiss to his cold ones. 

“Come home, please.” 

your friends were more than aware of your obsession with harry styles. it’s not like it was a secret.

so, it only made sense that when you started to sing in bars and cafes — anywhere, really — that you’d always incorporate something of his into it. whether it be a love on tour crewneck, a song of his, a one direction song, or a song about him — you loved to cover style, because.. who didn’t want to strut on a stage to a song everyone knows?

however, you weren’t aware of what they were planning when they somehow booked you in a very prestigious bar.

the dress-code for this bar was strict. your usual get-up of jeans and a crewneck — or jeans and anything, really — was vetoed before you could even ask. so, you searched through the depths and trenches of your closet until you found a black, skin-tight cocktail dress that ended right at your mid-thigh.

“seriously, babe. you know sign of the times inside and out. you’re just psyching yourself out,” one of your friends, melanie, told you.

“i know, but.. still.”

“you doubt yourself too much.”

“so you tell me everyday. now shoo! i’ve gotta be onstage in five.”

you weren’t exactly sure how you got onstage. you’re pretty sure you blacked out.

as you nervously scanned the crowd, you spoke into the mic, “hi.. my name is y/n. uh.. i’ll be singing some songs tonight. i figured since it’s christmas eve, i could sing through a few.. christmas classics or whatever. so.. yeah!”

a few people in the audience laughed at your awkwardness.

you sang through last christmas first, which really boosted your confidence. the audience was very interactive, singing, dancing, and clapping along.

you sang a few other christmas classics. santa baby, let it snow, things like that.

and then.. it was time for the section you very much dreaded. your songs.

“so.. these next few songs are songs that i wrote. they’re.. like.. my babies. so.. please be nice to them,” you laughed.

you nodded to the band. a silent signal that they could start the music.

“when you first told me about her, you said she was thirty. and i just can’t help but think.. you knew it was dirty. and maybe you were just a little sad, but there’s no excuse to lie to me like that. but when you first told me about her, you said she was thirty,” you took a deep breath before belting the chorus, “but she’s only twenty-eight. i’m not even half her age. she probably just had her first high school reunion. you’re probably the first guy she’s ever moved in with. you think that i wanna hate. but you set me up this way. so for my health i’ll be blocking your number, ‘cause you couldn’t wait till i got a bit older.”

the crowd cheered, giving you more confidence as you walked around the stage.

“and sometimes i kinda feel like i wanna forgive. but it never crossed your mind that maybe i’m still a kid. and i’m so used to being the adult. even when you say it’s not your fault. but i’m kinda getting sick and tired of crying. so please stop lying, and lying, and lying. she’s only twenty-eight. i’m not even half her age. she probably just had her first high school reunion. you’re probably the first guy she’s ever moved in with. you think that i wanna hate. but you set me up this way. so for my health i’ll be blocking your number, ‘cause you couldn’t wait till i got a bit older. to tell me she was twenty-eight.”

as the drums and electric guitar got more intense, the lights flashed different colors.

“to tell me she was twenty-eight… what the fuck is twenty-eight? you said she’s mature, so that makes it okay. and you said she likes sports, so that makes it okay. and she’s actually pretty, so that makes it okay. but there’s nothing you can say that makes twenty-eight okay.. to me.”

the crowd cheered as you lowered the mic. a smile overtook your face as you laughed.

you walked back over to the mic stand, putting the mic in the slot as a slow, piano-ballad type song started. the lights switched to a soft white.

“they’re always charismatic. and they’ll turn up the charm. their words do something magic, saying no is really hard. they’re over-generous, you’ll never pay the bills. they’ll fall in love in seconds. die for you, or probably kill. ooh. and after six months, you’ll feel really stupid. ooh. i promise that it’s not your fault you fell for it,” you shook your head, keeping your eyes closed as you sang, “‘cause.. one little fight breaks into war. feels like you’re dying on the bathroom floor. you’ll make an excuse. you’ll say that it’s you. and the mirror’s telling you it’s true. won’t leave, can’t stay. how much are you gonna take? ‘cause you’ll always take the blame. it feels like shit, but that’s just how it is. when you love a narcissist. so if you’re feeling crazy.. i wouldn’t be surprised. the only thing they’re good at’s knowing how to gaslight. then make you feel like the most beautiful in the world. while they’re sleeping with another girl. ooh. and after six months, you’ll feel really stupid. ooh. i promise that it’s not your fault you fell for it, ‘cause.. one little fight breaks into war. feels like you’re dying on the bathroom floor. you’ll make an excuse. you’ll say that it’s you. and the mirror’s telling you it’s true. won’t leave, can’t stay. how much are you gonna take? ‘cause you’ll always take the blame. it feels like shit, but that’s just how it is. ‘cause i felt like shit. so i know how it is. when you love a narcissist.”

the crowd cheered as it went straight into another song.

“when you’d yell, i would stay quiet. you never noticed i was quiet. i was taught that speaking up was talking back. always first to say, ‘i’m sorry’, ‘cause i wanted you to like me. and i thought that’s what it took to make it last. it’s a lose, lose. that i don’t choose. but you don’t always choose the ones you love. i shouldn’t have to be the bigger person. how come i have to break to keep us working? it’s always up to me, even though it shouldn’t be. i’ll take the blame the way you want me to. ‘cause that’s what i do for you. i was half of this dynamic. i was stable, you were manic. without you or with you comes with a cost. i got used to the excuses and emotional abuses. we kept moving the lines we never crossed. it’s a lose, lose that i don’t choose. but you don’t always choose the ones you love. shouldn’t have to be the bigger person. how come i have to break to keep us working? it’s always up to me, even though it shouldn’t be. i’ll take the blame the way you want me to. ‘cause that’s what i do for you. i always think it’s over, but it never really is. but i can’t get the closure when you’re like this. can we switch? maybe this time you’ll be the bigger person. ‘cause i’m getting tired of carrying all your burden. it should be up to you, but you won’t admit the truth, oh-oh. shouldn’t have to be the bigger person. how come i have to break to keep us working? it’s always up to me, even though it shouldn’t be. i’ll take the blame the way you want me to. ‘cause that’s what i do for you.”

the crowd cheered again.

“thank you! we have.. four more songs tonight. this next one is would’ve, could’ve, should’ve.”

a crew member came and slipped an electric guitar around your neck. you quietly thanked them as you cleared your throat and the music started.

“if you would’ve blinked, then i would’ve looked away at the first glance. if you tasted poison, you could’ve spit me out at the first chance. if i was some paint, did it splatter on a promising grown man? and if i was a child, did it matter? if you got to wash your hands? oh-oh, oh. all i used to do was pray. would’ve, could’ve, should’ve. if you’d never looked my way, i would’ve stayed on my knees. and i damn sure never would’ve danced with the devil at nineteen. and the god honest truth is that the pain was heaven. and now that i’m grown, i’m scared of ghosts. memories feel like weapons. and now that i know, i wish you’d left me wondering. if you never touched me, i would’ve gone along with the righteous. if i never blushed, then they could’ve never whispered about this. and if you never saved me from boredom, i could’ve gone on as i was. but, lord, you made me feel important… and then you tried to erase us. oh-oh, oh. you’re a crisis of my faith. would’ve, could’ve, should’ve. if i’d only played it safe, i would’ve stayed on my knees. and i damn sure never would’ve danced with the devil at nineteen. and the god honest truth is that the pain was heaven. and now that i’m grown, i’m scared of ghosts. memories feel like weapons. and now that i know, i wish you’d left me wondering. god rest my soul, i miss who i used to be. the tomb won’t close, stained glass windows in my mind. i regret you all the time. i can’t let this go, i fight with you in my sleep. the wound won’t close, i keep on waiting for a sign. i regret you all the time…. if clarity’s in death, then why won’t this die? years of tearing down our banners, you and i. living for the thrill of hitting you where it hurts. give me back my girlhood, it was mine first,” as you held the note, the crowd screamed.

“and i damn sure never would’ve danced with the devil. at nineteen. and the god honest truth is that the pain was heaven. and now that i’m grown, i’m scared of ghosts. memories feel like weapons. and now that i know, i wish you’d left me wondering. god rest my soul, i miss who i used to be. the tomb won’t close, stained glass windows in my mind. i regret you all the time. i can’t let this go, i fight with you in my sleep. the wound won’t close, i keep on waiting for a sign. i regret you all the time. oh, god rest my soul, i miss who i used to be. the tomb won’t close, stained glass windows in my mind. i regret you all the time. i can’t let this go, i fight with you in my sleep. the wound won’t close, i keep on waiting for a sign. i regret you all the time.”

with the final strum of your electric guitar, the crowd stood up to applaud. the crew member switched out the electric guitar for an acoustic one.

“this next one is called ceilings.”

a little bit more applause.

“.. ceilings. plaster. can’t you just make it move faster? lovely to be sitting here with you. you’re kinda cute, but it’s raining. harder. my shoes are now full of water. lovely to be rained on with you. it’s kinda cute but it’s.. so short. then you’re drivin’ me home. and i don’t wanna leave, but i have to go. you kiss me in your car. and it feels like the start of a movie i’ve seen before. before… bedsheets, no clothes. touch me like nobody else does. lovely to just lay here with you. you’re kinda cute and i would say all of this. but i don’t wanna ruin the moment. lovely to sit between comfort and chaos.. but it’s over. then you’re driving me home. and it kinda comes out as i get up to go. you kiss me in your car, and it feels like the start of a movie i’ve seen before.. but it’s not real. and you don’t exist. and i can’t recall the last time i was kissed. it hits me in the car. and it feels like the end of a movie i’ve seen before. before.”

you laughed as you saw melanie and your friends stand up in the back of the bar, dancing on stools.

“i can see my friends dancing.. so badly because they love the next song,” you laugh.

“once the flight had flown. with the wilt of the rose. i slept all alone. you still wouldn’t go. let’s fast forward to three hundred takeout coffees later. i see your profile and your smile on unsuspecting waiters. you dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor. you search in every maiden’s bed for something greater, baby. was it over when she laid down on your couch? was it over when he unbuttoned my blouse? ‘come here,’ i whispered in your ear in your dream as you passed out, baby. was it over then? and is it over now? when you lost control. red blood, white snow. blue dress on a boat. your new girl is my clone,” you smiled, knowing was part comes next. “and did you think i didn’t see you, there were flashing lights. at least i had the decency to keep my nights out sight. only rumors ‘bout my hips and thighs, and my whispered sighs. oh, lord. i think about jumping. off of very tall somethings. just to see you coming runnin’, runnin’. and say the one thing i’ve been wanting, but no. let’s. fast forward to three hundred awkward blind dates later. if she's got blue eyes, i will surmise that you'll probably date her. you dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor. you search in every model's bed for something greater, baby, was it over when she laid down on your couch? was it over when he unbuttoned my blouse? ‘come here,’ I whispered in your ear in your dream as you passed out, baby. was it over then? and is it over now? oh. oh. think i didn’t see you? there were flashing lights. at least i had the decency to keep my nights out sight. only rumors ‘bout my hips and thighs, and my whispered sighs. oh, lord. i think about jumping. off of very tall somethings. just to see you coming runnin’, runnin’. and say the one thing i’ve been wanting, but no. let’s fast forward to three hundred takeout coffees later. oh. i was hoping you’d be there. and say the one thing i’be been wanting… but no.”

another round of applause as you passed off the guitar.

“so.. this song is not my song. i am.. very nervous for this, but.. this is sign of the times.”

you closed your eyes tightly as the music started, “just stop your crying, it’s a sign of the times. welcome to the final show. hope you're wearing your best clothes. you can't bribe the door on your way to the sky. you look pretty good down here. but you ain't really good.. we never learn, we been here before. why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? the bullets? we never learn, we been here before. why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? the bullets? … just stop your crying it’s a sign of the times. we gotta get away from here. we gotta get away from here. just stop your crying, it’ll be alright. they told me that the end is near. we gotta get away from here. just stop your crying, have the time of your life. breaking through the atmosphere, and things are pretty good from here. remember everything will be alright. we can meet again somewhere. somewhere far away from here.. we never learn, we been here before. why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? the bullets? we never learn, we been here before. why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? the bullets? just stop your crying. it’s a sign of the times. we gotta get away from here. we gotta get away from here. stop your crying, baby, it'll be alright. they told me that the end is near we gotta get away from here. we never learn, we been here before. why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? the bullets?” you finally opened your eyes, trying to find melanie, but instead, you find the last person you expected to be here.

the man whose song you’re literally singing.

harry was slightly weary when an over-excited girl with light pink hair came up to him and asked him — begged him, really — to come to her best friends show. he wasn’t sure what convinced him. or what possessed him to bring his mother and gemma along with him.

but he had to say, he didn’t.. regret it.

you were pretty — extremely pretty. and you were a crazy good singer. he was pretty sure you were singing his song better than him.

you swallowed your nerves as you sang the chorus and bridge, keeping eye contact even though you felt like shitting your pants. “we never learn, we been here before. why are we always stuck and running from the bullets? the bullets? we don't talk enough. we should open up. before it's all too much. will we ever learn? we've been here before. it's just what we know. stop your crying, baby. it's a sign of the times. we gotta get away. we got to get away..” you finally looked away, closing your eyes. “we got to get away. we got to get away. we got to get away. we got to, we got to, away. we got to, we got to, away. we got to, we got to, away.”

you let out a shaking exhale as the song ended, backing up from the mic. you bowed and blew kisses to the audience before practically sprinting offstage.

to: mel x

WHAT THE FUCK MELANIE WHY THE FUCK DID INJUST MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH HARRY STYLES WHILE SINGING SIGN OF THE TIMES IM GONNA KILL

MY

SELF.

from: mel xx

NOOO I INVITED HIM ITS FINE

to: mel xx

you

what.

from: mel xx

I SAW HIM A WEEK AFTER WE BOOKED YOU THE GIG AND MIGHT HAVE BEGGED HIM TO COME BECAUSE I KNOW YOU WANT TO MEET HIM AND WHAT BETTER WAY THAN THIS

to: mel xx

oh i dunno

ANY OTHER WAY?

from: mel xx

BABE IT IS FINE

HE BROUGHT HIS MUM AND GEMMA TOO

to: mel xx

WHAG

from: mel xx

HE SAID HE LOVED IT AND U WERE OHENOMENAL

NOW GET OUT HERE AND MEET HIM

after taking ten minutes to breath, you walked over to the bar, finding melanie pretty easily.

“i love you so much for playing is it over now!”

“i played it just for you and your psycho obsession with it,” you laughed as she yanked you into a hug.

you two pulled away, and you turned around when you felt a presence behind you.

your eyes widened when you were face to face with harry fucking styles.

“hey.. y/n, right?”

you blinked a few times… that couldn’t be real. this was most definitely a prank.

“.. are you alright?”

“yes! sorry, i’m.. yeah, i’m good. hi, yeah. i’m.. y/n.”

he smiled at you, “i’m harry. but.. you seem to already know that, since y’sang my song and all.”

“i.. yeah, i do know who you are,” you laugh awkwardly.

“well, i’m glad to know who you are as well.”

you had to bit your lip to keep from smiling like a psycho.

“oh, and uh.. happy christmas,” he smiled.

you furrowed your brows, grabbing your phone.

12:01, 25 december 2018

happy christmas, indeed.

Giggles from all the boys echoed across the lounge.

Cups of cocoa were held in everyone’s hands, blankets draped over us in bunches. Christmas was only 5 days away— life was good.

“‘M nearly out of hot chocolate.” Harry pouts from your left.

A Christmas movie made quiet background noise, and Anne chuckled from across the couch.

“You’re a whiner,” she teased, standing up from where she sat.

She was sporting a green Christmas sweater, “Well, early morning for us, don’t forget.”

She was definitely headed off to bed, and everyone had to be up and ready to get on the road to the BBC breakfast morning show you had. Practically a One Direction pre-Christmas special, since it was still 5 days till Christmas.

You and the boys— well expect for Harry, who’d drive back here with Anne— are flying home for your Christmas break after that.

“Yea, think I’m gonna rack down s’well.” Liam says, pushing from the mound of blankets he was under.

And once one of you cave, the rest usually follow suit, specially knowing you had to be driving the hour and a half to BBC, meaning you had to be up early. You’re expected there at 6:30am and ready to preform by 8:00am.

Everyone starts to disperse from the living room, the TV and Christmas lights getting flicked off, cups finding there way into the dishwasher.

Harry is brushing his teeth in the bathroom when you enter to do the same.

He gives you a smile, his pearly teeth peeking through the foam.

You put your toiletries on the bathroom bench, pulling out your toothbrush, layering some toothpaste on it.

You both dance in the mirror, laughter muffled by a mouthful of toothpaste.

He’s in a red Christmas sweater— which is admittedly too cute for you not to fluster a little at the sight.

You’d figured being so close allowed you room for such feelings to linger, even though you never really know where the line was with them.

Where exactly the platonic feelings bleed into romantic ones— and how normal it actually was.

He was easily one of your best friends, so you try not to entertain these thoughts.

He makes that difficult.

Once you’re both done brushing your teeth, he is eyeing your hair.

It’s let loose, and he wastes not a second longer before sinking his fingers into it.

He combs through it with his hands, tongue darting out the corner of his pink lips as he plaits it at the back.

“What are you doing?” You laugh.

“Pass me a hair tie.” He states.

You truffle through your travel bag, finding one at the very bottom.

He loops it around the end of his work, with a proud little smile on his face.

“Gotta keep it in, mkay?”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Harry.” You roll your eyes with a grin.

He follows you out the bathroom, and you’re both headed the same way.

“It will! You wouldn’t want me to be tired tomorrow would you?”

“Tired and grumpy.” You add, knowing how he gets in the morning, like he’s got the world on his shoulders.

“‘M not grumpy! You’re grumpy.” He huffs.

“You both are!” Niall calls from the spare room he’s staying in with Liam.

“Shut up Niall.” You both say in sync, laughing as you run up the stairs.

You were taking Gemma’s old room, which had since been converted into a spare room now she’s moved out for college.

Harry was staying in his room, which you’re sure he’s enjoying being back in his own bed for a bit.

Anne’s room was the only other bedroom up here, down the other end of the hall.

“Woah—“ you say, coming to a stop as you see the window overlooking the town lights.

It’s down Harrys side of the upstairs living space, and you find yourself walking straight over to look out.

There’s a small reindeer shaped lamp that’s turned on, lighting part of the area up with a dim bit warm glow.

“You can see the Christmas lights in town from here.” You point out, a small smile on your face.

You both stand and look out, comfortable silence enveloping you. Even though it’s not your home, you feel at home.

Maybe it’s Harry’s presence, or the small town nature, you’re not sure. But fuck does it feel nice.

After a minute or so, you begin to move, but his hand grabs you.

You fumble to a stop, heart jumping at the feeling of his hand on your arm.

Just friends.

“Harry?” You ask, confused.

He’s smiling at you, meekly, “look.”

He points up and you still.

There are a sprig of little leaves hung on the roof above you. Mistletoe.

“Oh.” You whisper aloud.

“Did you— do you— sorry?” You’re baffled, because if he’s implying you follow through with tradition…

He laughs a little, but theres a nervous air around you.

Maybe he was just pointing it out for a laugh— to scare you a bit.

He moves to press his body close to yours, and you draw in a sharp breath.

You can smell him, that warm toasted vanilla smell that is always radiating off him. It’s sweet and woodsy in nature, comforting in a way you just want to bundle yourself up in it.

“Cant break tradition, can we?” He says, arms skating up to your hips.

“You want to kiss me?” You whisper.

The house is hushed around you, everyone pretty much in bed now.

He doesn’t answer your quiet question with words, instead he nudges your chin up with his nose, moving to place a warm kiss on the pulse point of your neck.

You shudder at the sensation, the way his soft lips feel against your skin.

It feels so wrong and so right all at once.

He moves up to the junction of your neck and jaw, peppering kisses along it, slipping up to your cheek.

You catch your lips on his cheekbone, and you feel any resolve against going further slipping from your grasp.

“Harry…”

“Just tell me if you want me to stop.” He murmurs against your skin.

“Tradition. Gotta stick to tradition.” You reason aloud, but you both know this goes far beyond that.

Usually people stuck under mistletoe share a quick peck if romantic feelings aren’t present. It doesn’t get dragged out, no laying soft lips over as much skin as you can. Unless it’s a hallmark movie, you suppose.

“Mmhm.” He hums against you, lost in the feeling.

You’re not 100% sure who makes the first proper kiss.

He’d pressed a kiss that caught the corner of your mouth, and you kissed the dip between his chin and bottom lip. He’d grazed your upper one, you’d pushed into it.

Like neither of you wanted to take the blame for it, be the one to initiate it.

Before you know it you’ve both sealed your mouths together. Let’s just say it was probably a mutual move.

It was slow, perfect and deliciously warm.

Your hand came up to his face, cupping the ridge of his jaw— pulling him infinitely closer.

His own hands are up slipping up to your hair, “Careful, don’t mess up your work.” you say, not wanting him to screw up the plait he did.

He laughs, taking his hands to your torso, beginning to slowly map out your body, feeling the different dips and curves of it.

He gently takes your bottom lip into his mouth, sucking it carefully to see your reaction.

Your stomach drops to your feet at the feeling, toes curling in your fluffy socks.

“Shit.” You whimper as he lets it flick back into place with a pop.

“Y’fuckin’ kidding me, Y/N.” He says into your mouth.

“Your lips are bloody perfect.” He pulls back a little, letting his thumb come up to skate over your swollen, wet lips.

You kiss the tip of his finger, and he visibly tenses.

If you hadn’t already breached the point of no return, this would be what did it.

You take it just into the seam of your lips, letting your tongue swipe over it.

He draws in a laboured breath, clocking you like a hawk as you slide your mouth down to the knuckle of his thumb, sucking on it a little.

“Y/N… fuck.” He groans quietly.

You slip a little further down, looking up at him to catch his eye.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ. Don’t do that— don’t look at me like that.”

You glide your mouth back to the top of his finger to speak innocently, “Like what?”

“Don’t be coy, y’know exactly what you’re doing to me right now, darling.”

He pulls back from you, and it visibly takes a lot of strength not to give into how bad he wants you.

Instead he compromises, taking your hand and leading you into his room without a word.

“As much as id like to lay you down in my bed and lick into till you come around my tongue,” he pauses, watching your reaction as he says that, knowing he’s wound you up good and proper.

“‘M not doing that while my mums just down the hall and our band mates are down stairs. Because you would not be able to keep quiet.” He shuts the door behind you both.

“So, cuddling it is, sweetheart.”

You’re dumbfounded at how blunt he just was. Dumbfounded and incredibly turned on.

“You can’t just say you want your head between my legs and then follow it with telling me we’re just going to cuddle.”

“Nothin’ wrong with a good cuddle.”

“But I’m—“

He cuts you off, “horny, I know, believe me so am I.”

He pulls your hand to feel his groin, where his cock was perked up in his sweatpants— he was certainly hard under your hand.

“Oh. Oh…” you stutter out, before he pulls it away again.

He shucks the sweater he was wearing over the top of his head, leaving him shirtless— and his tattoos completely visible.

You let your eyes wander along his toned torso and back, watching intently as he pulls the soft green doona cover of his bed down to slip under.

You stand for a moment, and he looks expectantly for you to join him.

“Cmon, Y/N, please?” He draws out the please, and you roll your eyes.

“You’re a goof.” You say, getting in with him.

“Big spoon or little spoon?” You ask once you lay down.

“Well unless you want my boner pressed into you, probably little.” You laugh at the situation you’ve thrown yourselves into.

It feels very different, yet very normal at the same time.

“I’d be just fine with that, I just don’t know how your little guy would cope with it though.”

“Little?” He challenges, pulling you into him so you can feel him rut against you.

“Oh stop it, I was kidding don’t take it so personally.” You grin, swatting his hands from your waist. Admittedly, from what you’ve felt tonight, he feels anything but little.

You pull yourself close to him,trying to fight away the December chill, and he smiles. It quiet for a few heartbeats, you both just enjoying each others presence and warmth.

Without warning he captures your lips with his, and you give straight into it. It’s not rushed, just soft and slow.

You kiss and kiss, tongues dipping between both of your mouths and you feel yourself growing tired. They become sloppy and laced with drowsiness— yet are still just as beautiful.

He pulls himself back with a small inhale, and places a final soft peck on your chin before pulling you further into his chest.

“Night, lovely.” He whispers, sounding blissful.

“Goodnight, Harry.”

———