#ceoverse

When Harry missed her birthday party, when he didn’t show up to at least three planned dates - leaving her alone at a booth at a restaurant, and when she would cry, scream at him over all this, he would not react.

-

“It’s fucking absurd, Harry!” Andrea had screamed as she stood in his brand new skyscraper he’d signed a lease on.

It was eleven at night and Harry was on the top floor, in his sprawling office as he went through contracts that needed his attention.

She was in a beautiful silk dress with mascara running down her cheeks, “This is the fifth fucking date you’ve stood me up. I’m done with your bullshit. You’re throwing away our years-long relationship over work!”

Harry had already become so cold and unempathic by this point, he had blinked up to her with disinterest for a brief moment before looking back down and flipping a page.

“I…I don’t even know you are anymore, this isn’t the Harry I agreed to be with,” Andrea sniffles as she smears her makeup even more, “Do you even love me?”

This was the opportunity to keep their relationship flowing, for him to remind her of his love for her, and say they’ll work on it.

That’s what she was expecting.

However, his next sentence solidified the end of their relationship.

“I don’t love anybody anymore,” Harry tells her without an ounce of any emotion in his eyes.

++

He was cold towards her, distant, and it wasn’t fair.

The girl hadn’t deserved it, she wasn’t a bad person, and she truly had tried to support Harry through his struggles of building a business.

However, the main issue out of all of it was that Harry wasn’t in love with her.

After the exciting first few months of dating, it faded into dullness much like he viewed everything in his life before YN.

Harry didn’t try to date again after that, he didn’t have the interest nor the energy to try to put the effort into something that he didn’t want.

He did go through a very awful depression though.

Where he came to the realization that he probably was never going to get married or have children.

Because despite how jaded and pessimistic he was about relationships, he always dreamed of having a wife and babies to come home to every night but instead it was just a massive mansion with no one but himself.

He would find himself desiring those things.

For example, the one day when he was looking for a box of books from his college years, he was interested in reading again.

He knew it was stowed away in one of the extra rooms.

When he walked into one of the rooms that he had never spent a minute of time in, he couldn't help but think to himself, ‘this would make the perfect nursery.’

That was a bad night.

After having that thought and realizing that it most likely would never be a nursery, he wasn’t proud to admit that he may have left a hole in the wall before closing the door and never going back in there again.

Harry turned into someone he didn’t like.

He was unfriendly, unapproachable, and cold to everyone.

No one was the exception, not even his mum and sister anymore.

He had no one which was his own doing, everything morphed into work and nothing else for him.

Occasionally, after one of the event dinners or out-of-town work trips, he would find someone for the night.

It was strictly sexual which he would always make very clear in the beginning of the encounter.

At some point, it became less and less frequent that he would hook-up with anyone because the more well-known, richer he became, the harder it was to find someone for just the night.

Even when they agreed to have a casual one-time thing by the time they had finished, they were typically begging Harry to at least stay the night or get his number.

It normally ended with them screaming that he’s a heartless asshole before kicking him out of their hotel room.

Well…not really kicking him out because the second they were done, he was already getting redressed and headed out the door anyway without a second look back.

Not once did he ever get the urge to ask for a number or for it to happen again.

Sex was sex to him.

It was never anything emotional, special, or mind-blowing.

It was mediocre at nearly all times and he would do it just to fill the physical need to get off.

He wasn’t a complete and utter asshole (yes, he was) but he always made sure that the woman that he was with was getting off too.

Harry never felt excitement in doing so, more of an obligation because it was only fair.

YN had insecurity in the beginning.

Unfortunately, a lot of the time Harry had hook-ups, it was caught by sneaky paparazzi whether it was him and the girl leaving the club together or him exiting the hotel after the deed was done.

And of course, all those pictures ended up not only on the internet but most of the time splayed across the cover of tabloids.

“Harry Styles Seen Leaving Hotel of American Model in Early Hours!”

“Harry Styles: Tech Billionaire and Womanizer?”

It took Harry quite a while to convince YN that none of that was relevant to their relationship and that she needed to not compare herself to the people that Harry had hooked up with in the past.

When he told YN that nobody has ever or would ever compare to her, god, he meant it with all his fucking being.

Harry understands the insecurity, he would have it too if he googled YN’s name, and articles, pictures of her with other men popped up in his search - he couldn’t even think about it without his blood boiling.

The issue was, in the beginning, YN didn’t see how fucking amazing she was.

She didn’t realize that she didn’t need to compare herself to those models and influencers because she was literally his dream woman from her intelligence, her wit, and her fucking looks.

It blew his mind that she didn’t see how gorgeous she was, that she even thought for a moment she wasn’t as pretty as the models, she was so much more beautiful than anyone he’d ever seen.

It had taken months of Harry showing that he meant his words for her to believe it.

He never even looked at another woman while they were out, even if they were trying to get with him, and in fact, he was exceptionally rude at all times (even though YN obviously never asked him to act like that).

Harry was as loyal as they fucking come, at least to YN, his loyalty was unwavering as well as his dedication to taking care of her and making her happy - it was impossible for YN not to see how stupidly in love he was with her.

And she started to believe in herself over time, in their relationship, and how much she meant to Harry.

It was incredible to watch her confidence grow in their relationship.

It made Harry proud to watch YN never hesitate anymore in what she wants.

She lets Harry spoil her now (within reason), doesn’t show any shyness in public situations, and has no issue holding conversations with Harry’s colleagues at business dinners.

He had tattooed her name on his chest, refused to negotiate a prenuptial agreement despite how much Harry’s lawyers had begged and pleaded with him to have one in case of divorce, and began to organize his accounts and businesses to take on YN’s name in half-ownership.

Everyone thought he was fucking insane.

One of the richest men in the world, with billions to lose, and he refused to sign a prenuptial agreement.

The thing was, YN was more than willing to sign one, she wasn’t after his money now nor would she be at any point so if he had wanted one signed, she wouldn’t have thought twice.

However, even she was shocked that he shut her down the moment she offered to sign one.

“I really don’t mind, I won’t be offended, H,” YN had told him softly after he’d gotten another nagging call from his lawyers about it.

“If we get divorced then my life’s already over, you might as well take everything I have because nothing’s more important than you,” Harry had told her firmly, unwavering and sure of his decision.

There was no room to even doubt that YN was it for Harry.

+

It was three weeks until their wedding.

About two until they left for Italy.

Everything had been planned and now there was nothing else to do but wait until the day came.

Wedding planning was easy.

Harry was involved in most steps but always had let YN have lead on what she wanted for their day.

He was agreeable and the only thing he had shut-down the idea of was a brunch the next day after the wedding.

“You can host a brunch for everyone who flew out. However, we will not be there,” Harry had told the wedding planner as they sat at their dining room table, “I promise you that I will not be sharing my bride during our honeymoon.”

The wedding planner had laughed and their cheeks had twinged pink at the insinuation before babbling about planning it for the family visiting as YN rolled her eyes and pinched his thigh.

Later that night Harry had called him out for being so blunt.

“What?” Harry shrugs, unbothered and cocky, “You’re insane if you think that m’going to even let you get dressed the day after our wedding. You’re going to be my wife, m’going to be too busy fulfilling my husbandly duties to have a formal brunch with our families.”

YN couldn’t lie about the fact that his words built a warm pit of arousal in her stomach at the thought of their honeymoon and being able to call Harry her husband in a few weeks.

The bachelorette party was tonight which YN had been looking forward to for a while now.

Her college, high school friends, and sister who were going to be in the wedding were coming into town for the night.

Harry had booked all of them all rooms at a luxury hotel in the heart of London for the night before they all headed back home to avoid any drinking and driving or just driving after a long day.

Harry had booked YN the presidential suite (which YN didn’t even want to think about the price of) and set up a day of pampering with a personal masseuse coming to the room as well as someone to do a facial, manicure, and pedicure.

She truly had the most thoughtful husband-to-be.

When Bethany was planning the night, YN’s only rule was no strip-clubs.

Harry hadn’t set a boundary there, she knew that if she wanted to go to one that he wouldn’t stop her because he wasn’t like that.

However, YN knows he wouldn’t have been happy about her wanting to do that as YN’s stomach churned at the thought of Harry wanting to go to a strip club either - YN had no desire to see any other man nude but her own.

Bethany was easily agreeable, settling for a night of cowgirl themed fun.

YN was dressed in a cute white fringe dress with a cowgirl hat and bedazzled cowgirl boots to match.

All the other girls were dressed similarly with cowgirl hats, boots, and dresses, just not in white.

“You lookin’ for somethin’ to ride?” Harry murmurs as he slides up behind her as she organizes her purse at the kitchen island, hands coming to her hips to pull her bum back into the cradle of his hips.

“Ew, please for the love of god,” Gemma fake gags as she walks into the room, obviously overhearing his comment, and putting a finger in her mouth to mimic making herself sick, “I would have been fine never hearing that.”

YN can’t help but laugh at Harry’s put-out frown because he had been totally looking for a reaction from YN and didn’t get one because his sister had cockblocked him even though she didn’t even have time for a quickie before leaving.

Harry uses the grip on her hips to turn her around, fixing her hat where it had been off-centered, “You’re going to be safe, right? Don’t drink too much and do not put your drink down anywhere, always have an eye on it. I’ll be home all night, if you need me, you’ll call me.”

YN leans up to kiss him, thumbing at his frown lines, “I’ll be fine. I won’t drink too much and I won’t put my drink down anywhere. Please relax tonight, we won’t be needing to call you. We’re just having some fun.”

She knows Harry wants her to have fun with her bridesmaids but she also knows what a protective worry wart he will be all night until he gets a call confirming that she’s safe in her hotel room.

“Let me know the room number you’re staying in, just…I don’t want to be overbearing but please check in with me a few times?” Harry asks softly, he didn’t want to come off as controlling but he just wants to make sure she’s safe, that was it.

“You’re not overbearing,” YN shakes her head, eyes fond, “I will check in with you. Please don’t spend the whole night anxious.”

“M’not anxious,” Harry denies mulishly as he glares at his sister who’s snickering, “Fuck off, Gems.”

Gemma puts her hands up, “I didn’t even say anything!”

“You were thinking somethin’,” Harry mumbles as he pulls YN more into his chest for a bear hug.

“Just thinking how disgustingly soft you’ve gone,” Gemma laughs, not meanly though, “You used to not even answer your phone for weeks, now you’re like this…”

Harry doesn’t like the jab.

It was passive-aggressive.

+

There were times before YN where he wouldn’t answer their calls for weeks.

And when he would answer, it wouldn’t be with pleasantries.

He remembers one of the last times that happened before YN.

Harry had answered after three calls in a row, “What the fuck do you want? I’m busy.”

“Harry,” Gemma sighs, sadness and irritation in her tone, “We haven’t heard from you in nearly a month. We worry about you. The only way we know you’re even alive is through seeing your picture plastered on the front of Daily Mail.”

Harry grits his teeth as he resists the urge to hang up, he had turned into someone who was uncaring, lacking empathy for himself and others, he was a shell of the person he could be.

“I’m fine,” Harry replies tightly, still typing on a report that needed to be sent in within the next fifteen minutes.

“It’s just…We know you’re fine but you don’t even check in on us. You know? Mum cries over it. You don’t even care about u-“ Gemma’s voice is shaky like she’s about to cry and Harry can’t handle it.

“God, I don’t have time for a fuckin’ guilt trip,” Harry snaps, cutting her off and feeling a hot anger beginning to simmer in his veins, “I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I…I just don’t know if you even want a relationship with us sometimes, Harry,” Gemma sniffles as she speaks, “Do you even want that?”

“I don’t know what the fuck I want,” Harry replies coldly before he does pull the phone away from his ear, hitting the end call button before turning his phone off entirely.

The next time his mum and Gemma had seen Harry was when they met YN, even though it hadn’t gone as planned, it was like seeing a new man.

After starting to see YN, Harry started answering text messages more, started inviting them over for dinner, and started calling them to see how they were doing nearly once a week.

Anne and Gemma both had an idea that YN encouraged him to do so, to rebuild the relationship with his mum and sister, for that ... .they couldn’t be more grateful for her coming into his life.

Gemma remembers the first time she’d really seen past her initial doubt of YN and realized that she was genuinely in love with Harry for who he was but also how much he respected her.

+

It was a family dinner at Anne’s.

Harry had a late day in the office, they had been nearly twenty minutes late, and had arrived right when Anne was putting everything on the table.

Where YN was in good spirits as always, Harry was subdued as he normally always is but Gemma was surprised that despite his barely-there greeting to his mum and sister, Harry had still helped YN out of her jacket and got her something to drink before pulling out her chair for her.

Harry ate silently for the most part as Gemma, Anne, and YN engaged in conversation as they were still getting to know each other.

Harry was sipping his wine, without much expression on his face but his arm was around the back of YN’s chair, his hand gently cupping the back of her neck in a simple but intimate gesture as she spoke.

At some point, a passive aggressive jab here and there starts to get thrown towards Harry by Gemma.

Just because Harry was doing better at coming around didn’t mean that it still didn’t hurt that he treated his family so poorly for so many years and now just because he has a girlfriend he’s a new person.

It didn’t make her forget the past.

And maybe that’s why she gave YN such a hard time in the beginning too because she felt a little resentment because nothing Gemma did could get Harry to want a relationship with them but YN just said the word and he obeyed.

“I wouldn’t know about that. Harry hasn’t come to Christmas in three years,” Gemma shrugs, not hiding the bite in her tone because it was true.

Three fucking Christmases where Harry never came home.

“Enough,” Harry replies shortly as he makes eye contact with Gemma, putting his fork down and taking another swig of his wine.

YN bites her lip at the interaction, sighing as she nibbles on her buttered roll.

“What? Just calling it like it is. You haven’t shown up for one single holiday for years, Harry. What did you do those days anyways? Spend it with a girl? With friends? Do you know how that made mum-“ Gemma begins to get angrier as she puts down her silverware.

“Gemma,” Anne scolds, not wanting a fight to erupt over dinner.

“You don’t know anything,” Harry hissed as his fist clenched on the table, sitting straighter, “I wasn’t spending it with a girl or a boy or anyone. I was alone, alone in my fucking house, Gemma. Don’t act like you ever really made a fucking effort to check-in on me-“

“Harry,” YN's voice is firmer than Gemma’s ever heard it, “They’re just hurt. They love you and they missed you. If you don’t have anything constructive to say back, just listen.”

Anne and Gemma both tense, expecting Harry to turn his anger towards YN and lose it on her for trying to tell him what to do which he’d never ever responded well to in the past.

Anne is about to try to break the tension, to avoid Harry flipping out on YN.

Harry reacts differently than either Anne or Gemma could have anticipated.

His shoulders slump noticeably, his jaw unclenching as he exhales out of his nose, and he looks at YN with something of an apology in his eyes before he nods and quietly says, “I would appreciate it if we could change topics now.”

YN smiles widely, proud of him, and leans in to kiss his cheek before quickly changing the subject back to something more light-hearted.

After dinner, while Anne begins doing the washing up, Gemma goes to use the restroom but stops short when she realizes that Harry and YN are in the hallway talking softly.

“M’sorry, I hate when you see me like that. I just…They don’t know that it wasn’t anything to do with them but how fucking depressed I was and I get defensive,” Harry says lowly, frustrated.

Gemma’s heart hurts at that.

She knew he wasn’t in the best mindset but she didn’t know how bad his mental health was which does make her feel a bit guilty of not making more of an effort.

She had taken his distance as him wanting no relationship with his family - not that he was struggling too much to be around them.

Gemma peeks around the corner, to get a view of them.

Harry has his back against the wall, YN pressed into his space as his hands are wrapped around her waist, looking down at her with an expression that Gemma doesn’t recognize on his face.

“Stop apologizing, H,” YN murmurs to him, her hand running along his jawline as she speaks, “I’m just so proud of how far you’ve come to work through those struggles. That’s all that matters now.”

Harry nods in agreement as he leans down to rest his forehead against hers.

“I don’t deserve you,” Harry murmurs as she nudges her nose against his, “I love you more than anything else on this earth. You’re…you’re just everything to me.”

“I love you more,” YN hums back, a quirk at the corner of her lips like she knows it will get a reaction out of him.

It works.

Harry quickly flips them so that she’s pressed into the wall.

However, that’s Gemma’s cue because when she hears him start to talk about how later he’ll ‘show her how much he loves her’ than she wants to physically get ill.

+

However, Harry has come a long way in his attitude (at least with his family).

As they stand in the kitchen, Harry decides to ignore the passive-aggressive jab that Gemma throws about being ‘too soft’ because he wants to snap at her but just moves on.

“The car is here,” Gemma reports when her phone dings, “We should get going.”

YN leans up on her tiptoes to give Harry another kiss, “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you more,” Harry replies as he bites at the corner of his lip, “Please be safe. Just one call and I’ll be there.”

“I know, H. We won’t need that though. Just relax tonight,” YN reminds him even though she knows it is fruitless at this point because he’s a little worry wart when it comes to her.

+

Everything was going good until they got to their third club of the night.

It was getting close to midnight by the time they arrived, having reserved a booth, and ordered drinks as they sat down at their table.

YN had a nice buzz going on, her goal was to stay tipsy for most of the night, getting drunk before pulling back and drinking water for a little bit to settle it all down.

Everyone was having so much fun, at the first bar which was more dive than anything else, had a mechanical bull that they all had taken turns, and some of the bridesmaids getting thrown off comically fast.

This third club was relatively busy with bumping music and cocktail waitresses walking around with bottles of grey goose on ice in big buckets, it wasn’t YN’s normal scene but she was enjoying it tonight.

Until another group of girls arrive that sit at the booth across from them.

From the very beginning, YN doesn’t like the vibe they give off.

They’re constantly staring over at their booth, whispering amongst themselves even in the loud room, and giggling like they’re making fun of them which YN doesn’t understand because she doesn’t even know these girls.

She looks over at them and definitely has never met any of them which means there should obviously be no issues between them.

The other bridesmaids notice the behavior too, which is when they decide to start winding down for a while, moving towards a second bar in the club that was further away from the music and craziness.

It wasn’t necessarily quiet but it was much more calm, relaxed in this area where they could all sit at a high-top table and talk without screaming over each other which was a nice change from the other places they’d been at so far.

Once again, everything is going fine until that same group of girls trail in only a few minutes after YN’s group to find a table very close to theirs, eyes flickering over at them like earlier.

YN and her friends discuss the weird behavior but decide to just ignore it because they’re not going to let it ruin their night and she doesn’t want to make a mountain out of a molehill.

As it gets deeper into the early mornings, the bar has nearly cleared out completely, most of the patrons going back towards the dance floor or stumbling home drunk by now.

YN and her bridesmaids were still having fun, gossiping and playing drinking games, and enjoying the night - having completely forgotten about the other table of girls until it was only them left in the bar with YN’s group.

YN’s buzz had faded however and realized that she was sober by now from her lack of alcohol in the past two hours which inspired her to go over to the bar to order something to get the edge back.

As she sits at the bar, someone slides onto the barstool beside her, and YN turns - expecting it to be one of her friends but it isn’t.

It’s a girl from the other group.

She was tall, blonde, and pretty but YN felt put-off by the smile on her face.

“Congratulations,” The girl smiles as she nods towards YN’s outfit, it didn’t seem genuine though but more condescending.

“Thank you,” YN replies not to be rude but looks back towards the bartender after that.

“I’m glad to see that Harry has finally settled for someone after losing me,” She shrugs nonchalantly, acting like her comment wasn’t absurd.

YN’s eyes widen in surprise, taken aback for a second as she turns towards her again, “Excuse me?”

The blonde has an innocent look on her face, “Oh, you don’t know me? I’m sure he’s talked about me. Or maybe it hurt him too much. After how much he begged for me to stay with him, I’d be embarrassed too.”

In the beginning of the relationship, this would have absolutely rocked YN, and destroyed her for a while because it played into all of her insecurities.

These beautiful women who’ve had a relationship with Harry would make her jealous and lower her self-esteem.

Now she’s able to smell bullshit from ten miles away.

YN knows for a fact that the girl is lying because of how extensively YN and Harry have discussed their dating histories.

Harry was extremely upfront about his past.

His one relationship through high school and the start of his career and then after that, no relationships, a few dates, and multiple partners that were nothing more than one-night stands.

Harry had admitted to her his patterns, finding a random hook-up and leaving right after they’d finished, no matter how much the girl asked that he stayed - he told her that with a bit of shame of not being more empathetic towards the girls.

YN knew without a shadow of a doubt that this girl was lying.

“I bet,” YN snorts out a laugh, showing exactly how unbothered she is.

The girl doesn’t appreciate that, her face drops when she realizes that she doesn’t have the upper hand in the situation, and that her words didn’t affect YN the way that she wanted them to.

It was more obvious that this girl had most likely been burned by Harry and was angry about it still if YN was to guess - she wanted more with Harry and he didn’t give into it.

“You don’t believe me?” The blonde asks in disbelief, ignoring the drink the bartender slides to her.

“Not for a moment, babe,” YN smiles, matching that condescending tone.

Because not only has YN grown into being more self-confident and empowered, Harry has also shown her a lot about how important it is that she stands up for herself, she doesn’t always have to be nice, and use manners.

It’s okay to be rude to people who aren’t being nice to you.

Before Harry, YN was more of a people pleaser who didn’t want to rock the boat and would sometimes let herself be walked over because of it but now, well now she wasn’t going to let this happen with this girl sitting beside her.

The woman hesitates for a moment, not prepared for this but then she says something to prove her knowledge of Harry, “You don’t believe me? Then how would I know that Harry has a small pink scar, you know where I’m talking about, don’t you?”

YN does know exactly what she’s talking about.

She’s well acquainted with the small scar that she often will land a kiss on when she’s kissing down his belly.

A small scar to the right, just above the base of him from where he’d cut himself shaving as a teenager, the first time he’d tried to do some manscaping and failed miserably.

YN still teased him about it sometimes.

The comment didn’t trigger anything other than annoyance.

She was confident, sure of her relationship with Harry.

She acknowledges that Harry has slept with other people before they met, just as she had slept with a few before him who could name a defining feature on her body too - it wasn’t a big deal.

At the end of the day, YN was the one in Harry’s bed at night, with a rock on her finger, her name on his chest, and a wedding in Italy planned in less than a month where Harry had given her everything she wanted.

Before YN can respond, a few of her friends trail over, concerned once they realize that she was sitting at the bar with a girl from the other group.

“Is there an issue here?” Bethany steps in, putting her hands on the back of YN’s barstool.

“My new friend here, wait sorry, I didn’t catch your name?” YN plasters the fakest smile back on her face.

“Carmen,” She replies tersely, shoulders tight and an unhappy tilt to her lips.

“Carmen here thought that it was necessary to come over to her and inform me that she has slept with Harry,” YN lays out, hoping she realizes how absurd what she had done was.

The other girls in YN’s group visibly tense, completely unaware how YN felt about it because if they were in her shoes - it would be difficult for them to hear.

“That’s quite literally the most bizarre thing I have ever heard,” Bethany shakes her head as she looks at the girl, “Why did you find that important to do? Are you trying to ruin her bachelorette party? What the fuck did she ever do to you?”

Carmen straightens her shoulder, more defensive, “You guys have been walking around this club like you own it and I decided to knock you down a few notches. You think you’re hot shit because you’re marrying some douchebag billionaire but I just wanted to remind you that you’re not the only person who’s fucked him.”

The bridesmaids audibly gasp at the words that leave the girls mouth, a few of them about to kick off their heels to start throwing punches but are all really waiting for YN’s reaction because they’ll go based off of her.

And if YN was being honest, she would love to slap this girl right across the face but she’s better than that, she won’t give into this girl’s shitty behavior because at the end of the day, it doesn’t bother her.

“I may not be the only one who’s fucked him,” YN agrees, still keeping her tone casual and calm, even taking a sip of her cocktail, “However, I’m the only one who gets to fuck him for the rest of our lives.  I’m sorry you didn’t make a big enough impression on him to get this.”

YN doesn’t care that it’s cocky and arrogant when she sticks out her left hand, the massive diamond on her finger sparkled beautifully in the dim lighting, and it was a jaw-dropping piece of jewelry.

“The difference between you and I, Carmen, is that Harry wouldn’t even remember who you are whereas I could go home right now and get the thing that you obviously want from him,” YN chuckles as she slips off the barstool, “Have a great night.”

“Fucking bitch,” Carmen seethes, her drink was nearly empty but there was maybe a sip left at the bottom, and she takes her glass, throwing hte contents over YN’s white dress.

There’s not much, however the red dye from the grenadine in her mixed drink would undeniably stain the material, and chaos erupts for a minute as YN quite literally has to hold back one of her feistier friends from attacking.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” YN assures them, still calm and not going to let it escalate any further, she had her fun but she was pretty much sober by this point and really really wanted to go home.

Not to her hotel but to Harry.

What YN didn’t know is the moment that Gemma had gotten a whiff of what was going on and what was likely to transpire, she had texted Harry that it might be best for him to come down.

The two groups of girls separate, going back to their respective tables, and still glaring at each other while YN sighs, rubbing the corner of her eye for a moment because the night wasn’t nearly as fun anymore and this was the last club.

However, her friends were still in party mode and had just ordered another round of drinks - a bit too impaired still to sense that YN wasn’t as engaged anymore in the activities especially because she was sticky from the drink and those girls were still harassing them.

It’s maybe fifteen minutes later, of the other group of girls occasionally making a loud comment or bumping a chair ‘accidentally’ on the way to the bar, and YN is about to call it, even if it disappoints her friends.

Suddenly, the room gets suspiciously silent, the only sound is the dull music in the background.

YN’s confused as to why her friends stopped talking out of nowhere and now she didn’t hear the other group of girls either.

When she turns to look around, she’s realizes why everyone’s gone silent because Harry was standing in the doorway with a eerirely blank face but his jaw was ticked in a sure tell that he was fucking livid.

Harry doesn’t walk over to YN’s table first which surprises her, unsure of what is going on at the moment, and instead he strides right over to the group of other girls who are staring wide-eyed and gaped at him.

“Can someone at this table please tell me who the fuck is interfering with my fiancée’s bachelorette party?” Harry asks in a deadly serious, firm voice but still manages to be steady and monotone.

It’s comical, the girls looking over at Carmen but YN realizes (and so do other girls at that table) that Harry doesn’t even remember which one of them he slept with to call them out.

Another wound to Carmen’s ego.

The girls at the table are at least a little frightened which made sense because Harry was the most intimidating person that YN had ever met in her life.

They also don’t want to put their friend on the spot so they all stay silent.

“You better play it up,” Bethany murmurs to YN and all the girls agree with her, little giggles echoing through their group.

For a minute, she doesn’t realize what they mean until it clicks.

Oh, she definitely knows how to not only pull at Harry’s heartstrings but show these girls just how crazy he is about her (if him showing up wasn’t already sign enough).

“Since no one wants to talk,” Harry finally looks at the table, “YN, my love, can you come over here for a minute?”

“Time to shine,” Gemma laughs under her breath as they give her an encouraging shove.

YN has a napkin in her hand, beginning to dab at her eyes like she’s tearful, and even manages a convincing sniffle as she makes her way over to them, siding up next to Harry.

He automatically tugs her into his side, a little bit behind her, “Which one is claiming to be the one I begged to stay?”

The condescending tone made it ten times more embarrassing for Carmen.

“Her,” YN convincingly stutters her words, just enough like she’s so choked up with emotion that she can barely even speak.

Harry’s eyes narrow on Carmen, showing absolutely no recongition or familiarity as he checks her over with judgement clear on his face, “What the fuck is wrong with you? You really are that nasty of a person that you want the bride to be crying at her own bachelorette party?”

All the girls get ruffled at that, disagreeing because they all knew that YN was faking it, and Carmen is the one who calls it out, affronted, “She literally just started this bullshit act when you arrived! She wasn’t acting like this before!”

Harry broadens his shoulders, “You’re the one I fucked?”

Carmen’s face drops, eyes avoiding her friend’s stares because if YN was to guess, she made up a big story about how much Harry had loved her, wanted her, and then she turned him down.

They were realizing now that their friend was full of shit.

Carmen snarls, backed into a corner now, “Don’t act like you forget! You begged me to stay after I got up to leave.”

Harry lets out a startling loud bark of laughter that even makes YN jump, it slices through the thick air, and he’s smiling so much his dimples are popping as he sobers up enough to talk.

“The only person I’ve begged to stay in my bed is that one that has a ring on her finger,” Harry replies surely, squeezing YN’s hip, “I surely did not beg you to stay in bed. And though I wouldn’t be able to point you out in a crowd, I think I may remember you throwing an absolute fit when I got up to get dressed.”

Harry snaps his fingers like something has suddenly hit him, “You’re the girl who followed me all the way to the elevator, begging me to give you a chance. Am I right? I am right.”

YN’s group of friends have to cough to disguise their laughter.

“Fuck you,” Carmen hisses angrily, her hand clenching her drink.

“I highly doubt I’ll ever see you again. Especially in the next few weeks when I’ll be in Italy, celebrating the fact that I’m about to marry this woman next to me, and in a few weeks you’ll probably be just as miserable,” Harry tells her as his thumb rubs a soothing circle on YN’s hip.

“You’re a fucking dickhead,” The blonde retorts as tears start to well in her eyes.

“I hope you take this humiliation as a lesson to mind your own fucking business. When you think about ruining someone else’s night, remember this. I hope your friends realize how foul of a person you are,” Harry gives them all a glance before he’s stepping back and bringing YN along with him.

Harry, just off to the side, where that group of girls can still see them pulls her into a hug.

“I’m sorry your night was ruined,” Harry murmurs into her hair before he’s tucking a finger under her chin to bring their lips together, “I am so embarrassed on my end. This is my fucking fault from being stupid and just sleeping with whoever was available when I was-“

“You know I’m not really upset, right?” YN giggles in his hold when he frowns, “I was just doing it to get a reaction out of them. There’s nothing to apologize for or feel embarrassed about, H. I know you’ve slept with other people, so have I.”

Harry bares his teeth at that, eyes getting a bit more dilated, “Only one who’s given it to you good is me, right baby? Only one you’ll ever need now because I give you everything you want, hm?”

“S’the main reason I’m marrying you,” YN teases as she presses a bit closer to him which in turn makes his hand tighten on the small of her back, keeping her right where she is, “But I don’t know…I don’t know if I compare to all your many conquests….Beautiful woman who-“

Harry cuts her off with a harsh kiss, enough to sting when his teeth bump her lip for a moment but it doesn’t deter him from taking what he wanted until he pulls back just the slightest, “Don’t you fucking dare ever compared yourself to anyone else. S’you, you’re it for me. Never had anything better. I never begged for anything in my life before you. Now I beg on the daily, don’t I, pet? Beg for your kisses, your mouth on me. Beg for you to sit your pretty cun-“

“Okay, okay,” YN begins to feel the heat in her belly rise up, “We’re still in public, macho man.”

“I can’t fucking wait until your my wife,” Harry rumbles as he steals a few more kisses, uncaring of anyone who may be watching or in the room as he shows a little possessiveness over her.

“I can’t wait either, H,” YN replies with one more softer kiss, “Thank you for coming down here and standing up for me.”

“Anytime,” Harry says as he’s finally detaching his hand from her bum before he turns a bit sheepish, “I was scared, a bit. It’s fucking embarrassing.”

“It’s not-“ YN begins to argue but is cut off when someone wraps their arm around her shoulder.

“Shall we continue this party back at the hotel?” Her friend, Gabby, half-slurs as the others come to join them, all of them chirping and hollering in agreement at continuing the party from here on out.

“I think I’m just going to have a quiet rest of the night girls,” YN tells them, she was tired and a bit stressed for whatever reason, and she was stone cold sober.

The girls are amazing, they don’t try to argue or guilt-trip her but instead ask if she’d be upset if they continued the party without her which of course she didn’t, she encouraged them to be safe and to continue the fun.

They decide they wanted to stay at the club a bit longer and all gave YN long hugs (and a few kisses) which made Harry roll his eyes as he waited off to the side for her until she bounds over and he walks her out.

“Let’s get you to the hotel,” Harry hums as he opens her car door for her.

“No,” YN frowns, not getting into the car but instead glaring at him.

“No?” Harry replies dumbly.

“I want to go home, to our home with you,” YN clarifies as if she didn’t make it obvious before (maybe she didn’t).

It’s Harry’s turn to frown, “Are…are you sure? This is supposed to be your night and of course, because of me it was fuckin’ ruined, wasn’t it?”

“Harry,” YN tries but Harry has gone cold, motioning her once again to get into the car and this time she doesn’t argue as he walks quickly around, gets in the driver’s seat, and revs the engine before peeling out of the parking lot.

Harry’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel.

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset, H,” YN tells him honestly, hands anxiously twisting on her lap.

Harry scoffs loudly, “Like it isn’t obvious? I’m upset because I ruined your night.  I’m upset because I fucked up so much by sleeping with those stupid fucking girls, girls that I didn’t even like. Now because I did that, you have to deal with the consequences of my actions. Do you know how embarrassing that is? For my fiancée to be out at her bachelorette party, only to be harassed by a girl I had sex with one time and I didn’t even remember her? I hate that I was like that.”

“The only thing ruining my night is this,” YN snaps back, letting the frustration roll over her, “I was so fucking proud of myself because I handled myself so well. I didn’t get jealous or insecure when she confronted me. She even knew about the scar you have and it didn’t bother me. I thought you’d be proud of me.”

Harry’s melts right then and there, she can almost physically feel the anger exiting his body as he reaches over to put his hand on her thigh, eyes apologetic as he glances over at her, “M’heart, I am…I am so good damn proud of you. It’s just hard because these things happen because of mistakes I’ve made before I met you. I hated the person I was. I don’t like when I get confronted with my past. I am sorry I overlooked how well you handled the situation.”

“I just…I feel like I’ve come a long way from when we first started dating,” YN shrugs as she picks at a loose thread on her dress, moving to kick off her cowboy boots as they were starting to get uncomfortable on her aching feet, “I don’t hold anything you’ve done before we got together against you and you’re not that person anymore. It doesn’t feel great to have someone share an intimate detail about your soon-to-be-husband about their bits but I managed to stay level headed.”

Harry’s face twists at that, affronted, “What the fuck did she say about my cock?”

YN snorts at the typical response, “Don’t worry. She mentioned knowing about the little scar above it.”

Harry shakes his head in disgust, “S’a bit creepy how much she remembers from a one-time-hookup.”

“Shouldn’t be showing your bits to just anyone,” YN chirps back, now teasing because the tension has faded into something comfortable and just them again.

Harry scowls as he looks ahead at the road, “It doesn’t matter anymore. You’re the only person who’ll ever be seeing ‘em again.”

“I just hope you don’t run into all of the three people I slept with before you,” YN hums, biting her lip as she looks out the window because she knows for a fact it will get a reaction out of him because he’s a jealous son of a bitch.

It works beautifully, his hand resting on her thigh inches further up under the hem of her dress, fingertips brushing the lace before he gives her a squeeze rough enough to make want to moan.

Then he may just do the sexiest thing YN’s ever witnessed.

Still looking forward, one hand on the wheel, and the other on her - he moves further between her thighs until he’s cupping her mound through her thin underwear possessively, “This is mine, isn’t it? She wasn’t even treated right before me so those other pricks don’t even count.”

“Harry,” YN whines out, trying to adjust her hips to get some friction going against his palm but he’s not budging.

“Answer me,” Harry prompts as he gives her nothing to work with.

YN can’t even remember the question for a second, her mind fuzzy from arousal.

“It’s yours,” YN agrees breathlessly, hoping to get rewarded, “Only one to make me feel good.”

“That’s fuckin’ right,” Harry rumbles proudly, thumb moving to brush against her swollen clit before stilling again, “And you know what else, my heart?”

“Hm?” YN manages but her brain-to-mouth filter was malfunctioning as her core pulses for more.

“You’ve said in the past that you haven’t been any of my firsts but do you know how untrue that is? I’ve never had sex with someone I’ve been in love with before you. You know how I love to lay you out and make you come so many times you can barely keep your legs open? I’ve never even had the desire to do that before you. I care one hundred times more about getting you off than if I do.”

“Touch me,” YN groaned because she was throbbing by this point.

Harry sighs, shaking his head, “I’ve just poured my heart out of you. Confessed my love, confessed that you’re the first person I’ve really enjoyed sex with and I’ll I get back is a ‘touch me’?”

He mimics her whiny tone when he repeats what she says which makes her grit her teeth.

“I’m sorry,” YN provides without any real feeling behind it.

Harry laughs now, more of a fond shake of his head, “Darling, you didn’t even try to sound sincere. You spoiled lil’ thing.”

“Yeah because I want you to make me come. You’re all fucking talk at this point,” YN snaps at him because the sexual frustration was real and she’d gone through too much bullshit and excitement to be teased like this.

Harry glances over at her with heat behind his eyes, “I’m all talk, am I?”

It always worked to challenge him, Harry was easy in that way, always wanting to prove he was this tough alpha man who could give his girl what she needed at all times.

“Seems to be,” YN rolls her eyes which she knows gets on his nerves.

“We’ll see ‘bout that,” Harry replies but his voice had gone even deeper, if that was possible, and his accent was getting thicker with each syllable.

Harry’s moves quickly now, still impressively focused on the road as he roughly tugs her underwear to the side, his thumb finding her clit right away and pressing with enough pressure that she tries to twitch away from the blunt sensitivity before settling into it.

On top of that, his index and middle finger curl up inside to pet at her walls, and nudging at the sensitive spot makes her want to clench her legs together from the stimulation.

YN’s hand unconsciously moves to wrap around the wrist of the hand that’s working her over, just grabbing it but not trying to move it.

And embarrassingly, the thought that occurs to her is that in a few weeks that same hand that’s getting her off will have a beautiful gold band on it signifying that he’s all hers in every way is enough to make her come.

Harry removes his hand, having no shame is putting the same fingers into his mouth - something that had absolutely shocked her to see when they first started dating but now only serves to make her wetter.

“I always thought that married life would be boring, you know? S’why I gave up on looking for so long,” Harry tells her with that same teasing lift in his tone, “I thought it’d be the same ole’ same ole’ everyday until I keel over. Never imagined I woudl have the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen in my passenger seat, letting me fuck her with my fingers on the way home. That’s some amazin’ married life, huh?”

YN knows there’s some truth behind his dirty talk but she has also heard him talk so many times about the real reason he’s so excited to make her his wife because of how much he loves her, how he could never imagine being with someone else, how he’d never want anyone else, how she’s the other only he’d ever want to be the mother of his children.

However, how fiery, passionate, and fierce their sex life was didn’t hurt either.

There were so many reasons why YN didn’t let insecurities get to her anymore because how could she?

Any thoughts of the events of that night faded once they got into the safe space of their home, where they didn’t even make it up stairs before Harry was whispering the softest, most loving things as she rode him on a random decorative chair in the foyer.

He was usually a very patient man, couldn’t have gotten where he was if he wasn’t. When it came to this, each day he wasn’t married to the love of his life felt like torture.

Since he proposed to her in his briefs in their bedroom, he had imagined her looking immaculate in whatever she chose to wear, exchanging vows of devotion, and then being tied together for life.

He never thought he would get here. He’d never felt a connection with someone like he had with the feisty waitress who bumped into him. Begin to believe that he was broken or lacking emotion because no matter how sweet the girl was he couldn’t see himself with the person.

Don’t get him wrong. 

He took many women out on dates that were downright awful. Asking him about money, suggesting he take them on expensive vacations or buy them a designer item, being too forward and palming his crotch in the middle of dinner.

One of the last dates he went on before he gave up was the one that made him stop looking all together, about six months before he ran in YN.

---

It was an expensive restaurant in the heart of London. It had a waitlist for months but one call and they could magically make an available booth for the billionaire within the hour. 

The girl he was sitting across from was a so-to-speak blind date. 

A set up by one of his business partners who stated that they would be a good match. Harry had rolled his eyes at that but couldn’t come up with an excuse fast enough to say ‘no.’

Her name was Aria, she had a respectable job at a local law firm as an assistant to a very well-known lawyer in the area. 

She was beautiful in the way of looking just like an instagram model with long dark extensions, false eyelashes that made it hard to determine what color her eyes were, and an outfit that made Harry a bit embarrassed to be seen with her - short and low cut at a five-star restaurant.

“Yeah, I just got back from Mallorca with a group of friends,” She tells him, flipping through the photo album on her phone to show him pictures. 

When she ‘accidentally’ swipes (and slowly swipes) again so that Harry definitely gets a glimpse of a nude selfie.

Harry internally groans, couldn’t be less turned on by that, and doesn’t acknowledge it - much to Aria's disappointment. 

She was fishing for a compliment, maybe a request for him to take the phone and look closer at the picture like most men would.

Instead he sits back, takes a sip of his wine, and nods curtly, “It looks like you had a good time.”

She stumbles for a second, confused by his sudden standoffishness, and clicks her phone locked before putting it next to her on the table, “Did I offend you?”

He was already done with the date, with the dating scene, with fucking everything honestly. 

What a goddamn waste of a night.

Harry barks out a cruel laugh, “It takes a lot more to offend me than a picture of y’tits but it’s a bit offensive that y’think so little of yourself that you think that’s how y’going to impress me. Those tits didn’t impress me much, darling.”

Aria’s eyes narrow in blatant disbelief at how much of an asshole he was being. 

Granted, she did feel a bit of embarrassment creeping up in her stomach about thinking showing him that picture was a good idea but still, he didn’t need to react like that.

“It really makes sense why you don’t have a girlfriend, it’s because of what an asshole you are,” The girl sneers with venom as she tucks her phone into her clutch, swigging down the last drops of the expensive wine.

He shrugs like he’s unbothered, a nasty feeling quilling in the pit of his stomach as he keeps an outward expression of nonchalance and ease, it make the raven-haired woman even more furious as he replies cooly, “I’m not being an asshole, honesty hurts sometimes. Maybe if you think the way you attract someone is by nude pictures, you should try Tinder or Bumble.”

“I hope you have fun living the rest of your life alone. You may have your money but you’re going to end up alone and it will be all you fucking have,” Aria tells him before pushing out her chair and leaving before the main course even arrives. 

Harry sits there for a moment, swallowing and pleading with himself to not let the nasty words set in because they felt too real and too personal - she had actually struck some type of chord within and it had his stomach churning.

When he pays the bill, apologizing profusely for leaving dinner before the entree arrives but with an excuse of a company emergency - it’s eerily quiet in his car as he drives home to his massive home with no one in it.

It doesn’t happen often. 

He should call his mum, Gemma, Dorothy even to talk it out but he feels so fucking alone because he can’t get it right. He can’t connect with anyone and it is starting to feel hopeless.

He is angry, so angry at himself, that he can’t shake the feeling of it and he feels like he’s losing control because he never fucking talks about his emotions.

A beautiful set of dishware was sitting out his dining room table, the housekeeper had carefully unwrapped them earlier in the day. 

They were imported from Beijing, decorated with real gold, and handcrafted. It had cost him nearly forty-thousand dollars for a set of fucking plates and bowls.

I hope you have fun living the rest of your life alone. You may have your money but you’re going to end up alone and it will be all you fucking have.

It is repeatedly on a loop in his head, glares at the items on the dinner table like they’re mocking him, and he has no wits about himself before he’s taking one of the beautiful bowls and throwing it against the wall as hard as possible.

I hope you have fun living the rest of your life alone. You may have your money but you’re going to end up alone and it will be all you fucking have.

By the time he’s done, his chest is heaving, and his face is red. 

When reality starts to set back in, every single item from the set is destroyed on the floor, the wall’s paint chipped from where he’d hurled them.

He was so fucked up.

-

Harry couldn’t help but relieve the feelings of that nasty flashback. He couldn’t believe that he had been at that point in his life - not when he had the most all-consuming, amazing in every single way woman laying next to him in his bed.

YN had shown Harry that he had never been broken, he had just been waiting. 

She was his soulmate and he had been waiting for her since forever. He truly believed that as he looked at the girl next to him with enough emotion his heart might burst.

She was just...everything.

YN was so fucking funny - the funniest person Harry had ever met. She was loving in a way that made you feel like you belonged. Compassionate in a way that makes you want to be more selfless yourself. Intelligent enough that it was breathtaking and unreal - and that was just the tip of the iceberg.

She was uncaring of who Harry was - in the most perfect way. 

Money wasn’t a personality trait that she defined him with. She loved him for who he was at the bare basics, stripped away from his public life.

She was confident in a way that girls rarely were. 

Bared face and more beautiful than the highest-paid models. 

Her body was her own, embracing every curve and inch of it without any shame. Let herself be authentic in front of Harry which made him feel like he had won a secret lottery.

Right now, she was fast asleep next to him in bed after stuffing herself full of oreos that she was dunking in milk. She ignored Harry’s looks of disgust at the soggy cookies and munched away happily which made him happy in turn.

She still had a dark crumb on the corner of her puffy lips, her mouth parted just the slightest amount, and her face smushed halfway into the pillow. 

The shirt she had on was so oversized she was swimming in it and a pair of soft pink cheeky underwear.

Currently, she was the farthest thing from graceful and Harry loved that so fucking much. 

As they lay mere days away from their wedding, remembering that nasty flashback, he can’t help but remember their first date and how he had known from them that he had finally found a spark, a connection to another human being.

--

Harry cannot remember the last time he had been nervous. 

Maybe back in his teenage years? If that. 

It was an unsettling feeling that was currently pooling in the pit of his stomach as he changed his outfit for the third time before finally being somewhat satisfied with the suit he had picked out - tighter black jeans, black button-up, black blazer - couldn’t go wrong there. ***

YN had texted him asking what she should wear for their first date when Harry told her he was going to keep it simple and take her to a restaurant.

He had to dress nice, it was an expensive restaurant that he had not taken any other dates to before, it was right outside of London - going towards the countryside with a beautiful view of a meadow and stream.

When he had arrived in front of her apartment, well he had never been on this side of town, and it quite frankly looked like the roof of her building was about to collapse at any minute. It was rough to say the least.

Harry had picked out a car he thought would impress her. He remembered her saying the doors of his Lamborghini were stupid so he picked a car with normal doors this time. It was his new Audi Quattro that had cost him upwards of 170,000 pounds. ***

YN had popped out of the front door, her face didn’t read impressed when she saw the car like he had hoped. It was interesting before YN, he did not care whether or not his dates were impressed by him - now he craved it.

She looked extraordinary in a form fitting silky black dress that hugged every single curve of her body perfectly while accentuating them at the same time. Minimal makeup, loose waves, and simple high heels - it was like a dream that he was taking this girl out on a date. ***

When she slips into the passenger seat, the smell of her floral yet cinnamon perfume makes the car smell heavenly, she looks over at him and says, “You didn’t even come open the door for me. We’re off to a bad start, Harry.”

His heart sinks, fuck - he had been blindsided by her beauty that he wasn’t even being a proper gentleman, “M’so sorry, I wa-”

She chirps out a tender laugh, patting his arm, “You’re face, oh my god. I was just fucking with you.”

Harry’s frown turns into a pout, “S’not nice, pet.”

YN shrugs before a bit self-consciously adjusting the fabric around her midsection, “Erm, I hope this outfit is nice enough? It’s really the only semi-decent thing I own.”

He shakes his head in disbelief, “Y’look absolutely stunning. I can’t even believe y’real to be honest, so fuckin’ pretty.”

YN gives him a shy, unsure smile but he can tell she’s preening at the compliment internally (which she totally is).

The restaurant is one of the nicest in England, let alone London. 

There wasn’t even a menu, they just served eight courses over a few hours time by servers in suits with bowties on. 

YN had never felt more out of place.

As they sat down, Harry was proud that he was able to show off his abilities for a good date, YN was looking around nervously before looking up at the server and saying, “We didn’t get menus yet.”

The man gives her a humorous expression before telling her, “We don’t do menus here, miss. Your date is a regular, I am sure he can fill you in. However, we are starting off with a Cabernet from 2001 imported from Napa, California.”

As he pours the wine into their sparkling glasses, she asks unknowingly, “I don’t really like wine. Is there any way I could get a Coke?”

Harry frowns when the server laughs meanly at her, “Ma’am this isn’t McDonald’s. We do not carry soda. I can provide you with water, if you so wish.”

Harry can’t help but snap at the waiter, “Oi, she’s never been here before. Lay off with the attitude alright?”

“My apologies, Mr. Styles,” He murmurs obediently before finishing the pouring off the whine and retreating from the table.

YN is trying to hide how uncomfortable she is but it is still obvious with how she fidgets in her seat, doesn’t quite know what to do with her hands as she doesn’t even bother to reach towards the wine glass.

“This isn’t really your scene, is it?” Harry murmurs, embarrassment with his failure to impress her with an expensive car and dinner. 

It was falling flat and it was the only thing he knew how to do - flaunt his wealth, everyone else had always been impressed.

“No, it isn’t,” She agrees quietly, fingers folding the edges of the cloth napkin to keep her anxiousness directed somewhere, “I appreciate this, er, dinner. I thought we were going to go somewhere like Mary’s.”

Mary’s was a restaurant that was considered ‘nice’ to the commoners in the city. It was a bit more expensive than a pub and the attire was a bit fancier than if you were going out to a bar. 

For someone like Harry, that was not considered a fancy restaurant. 

However, YN was not him and this was not something that she had ever been accustomed to. He now definitely felt like an idiot.

It’s made even worse when a massive plate is put in front of each of them. 

The plate is huge but the dish is merely one scallop with a lemon sauce and sprinkle of parsley on top. YN can’t even try to hide her confusion at the food.

 “I’ve mucked this date up,” Harry sighs, nearly thirty minutes into the actual date. 

YN had taken a small bite of the scallop before setting down her fork and not touching it again - it tasted like dirty feet. Did rich people like that taste?

She decides not to answer directly, “I already know you have money. It doesn’t ‘wow’ me. I was hoping for a fun date, this is….nice but quite truthfully, not for me. I prefer a pub or bowling - this feels more like a business meeting.”

Harry usually doesn’t have dates that are this honest with him. 

He feels embarrassed but he really did appreciate her honesty. He should have known to do something different than this but he was comfortable with his normal pattern.

“Can we get out of here?” YN asks, placing the napkin back on the table and gathering up her small purse to swing over her shoulder.

He feels defeated as he nods, paying for the meal in full as he accepts that he’s fucked up the date beyond repair by being an arrogant, ignorant asshole who doesn’t truly know how to talk to a girl he likes.

It’s quiet as he starts the car and pulls back onto the road, he startles a bit when YN points to a glowing sign of a golden arch and demands, “Go there.”

With a bit of confusion, Harry pulls into the McDonald’s parking lot and then to the drive-thru as she motions for him to do so. 

God, he hasn’t been to a fast food joint in years now if he was being honest.

When they pull up to the screen, YN leans across and shoots out their food order with ease before sitting back with a smug smile, “We’re going to have a date my way.”

Harry sighs with relief when he realizes the date isn’t over - but really just beginning. They sit and chat in the parking lot. He is thoroughly impressed when YN manages a box of nuggets, a fry, and a milkshake without shame.

Not like she should be shameful - just usually on dates women were hesitant to actually eat and instead picked carefully at their food instead. Their conversation in the car is bright, at some points deep and meaningful, but refreshing. It made him feel young again.

After they finished eating, she’s ordering him to drive a bit further out into the country where he can’t help but make the joke, “Are y’taking me somewhere to kill me?” YN smiles happily with a wide grin, “You’ll just have to wait to see.”

It ends up being a lake. A beautiful body of water that was surrounded by trees that were being reflected into the ripples with the light of the moon. The only sounds were of crickets chirping and the light lapping of the water against the small shore. ***

“I used to come here a lot in the summer in high school,” YN murmurs as Harry takes in the scenery of everything. It had been so long since he had appreciated nature - not the bright clear waters in the tropics but something like this.

“S’beautiful,” Harry replies, can’t help but observe this girl he’s infatuated beauty in the moonlight. 

Her skin looks like it’s glowing, the moon sparkling off the twinkle of her iries, and she just looked...ethereal. Like she belonged in the beauty of the wilderness.

He couldn’t believe his eyes - had to blink harshly a few times to make sure he’s not imagining it when she pulls the thin straps of her dress down her shoulders and shimmy the garment down her body until she’s left in a delicate lace bra and cheeky pair of underwear.

Harry, always the gentleman, keeps his eyes (with effort) on her face. Unsure of what is going on in her mind before she turns around with a little run and dives headfirst into the deep waters before popping back up and giggling, “Jump in!”

She’s just so...carefree, adventurous. Harry hadn’t felt free in fucking years.

It has him shucking out of all of his clothing, just down to his tight black briefs before he’s diving in, right next to her, and feeling around. He wraps his hand around her ankle to teasingly tug her under with him before they both surface.

As they wad in the water, YN swims over to him, and wraps her legs around his waist, arms around his neck. Her soaking wet hair was dripping and he was breathing heavy, feeling his ribcage expand against her soft tummy.

She murmurs quietly over the light lapping over the water, “You haven’t even looked at me once.”

Harry swallows, feeling like a schoolboy again, “I...I didn’t want to without permission.”

“I want you to look at me,” YN replies, letting her nose nudge his and her eyes searching into his nervous ones. 

He nods, closing his eyes when he feels her lips brush his, letting his large palms grip at her sides and pull her closer to his chest. Their lips not breaking when his hands begin to explore the intricate, plush curves of her body.

They don’t do anything else, don’t go any further but he groaning when she traces her fingertips down his muscular, defined abs and thumb rubbing over the trail of light hair leading into his briefs.

After a swim, filled with splashing and dunking, they retired to lay in the grass. Both of their backs, looking up at the clear night sky, moon full and stars glittering against the stark darkness that surrounds it.

YN wriggle until she’s tucked into his side, hand running up and down his chest, as she says, “I’m sorry your date didn’t go as planned. I ruined it.”

“Y’didn’t ruin anything. I...I haven’t felt like this in a long time,” Harry admits as he gives off an embarrassed laugh, “I..I’m a little bit scared, to be honest.”

“Scared? Of what?” YN asks, lips pressing against a tattoo on his bare shoulder.

“Because I already am falling for you,” Harry utters, heart racing and his eyes glued upwards and pointedly not wanting to see her interaction.

“That’s a relief.”

His eyebrows shoot up, “A relief?”

“Yeah, I would say. I’m falling too,” YN whispers before leaning up to connect their lips once more as the moon rises further in the sky and the crickets sing a little louder. They lay like that for a very long time.

Harry went home that night for the first time not feeling the empty weight of his loneliness, instead he feel asleep imagining the beautiful, spontaneous girl next to him in his bed.

--

It wasn’t going to be the wedding everyone expected for The Harry Styles. **

There was not many invites set out for this event. It wasn’t the wedding of the century or the most expensive wedding of the decade.

Harry would have let his wife-to-be have this day however she wanted without complaint but could say he was very happy that it was going to a be a low-key event. It was going to be some of YN’s family, though she didn’t have much, and Harry’s extended family. No one from work or business. Just family.

They had just gotten finished with the rehearsal dinner, the couple being ordered to separate rooms for the final night before they were married. It was tradition. 

Harry had walked YN to her hotel room, they were staying at the venue, and pressed her up against the door. His hand coming to weave into her meticulously curled hair and cupping the back of her head, bring her mouth to his.

He wastes no time in letting his tongue find hers, hips coming to press her further back against the aged wood, and his teeth nipping roughly at her plump bottom lip, “Baby, y’gonna be m’wife tomorrow.”

YN’s eyes twinkle up at him like they did during their first date, “I can’t wait. I can’t wait to spend forever with you.”

His fiance laughs kindly as he gets a bit watery eyed, her thumb coming to swipe under his eye, she jokes, “Are you regretting proposing now?”

“Just never knew I could be this happy,” He murmurs against her lips, can’t help but reach around to grip a generous amount of her backside and pulling her flush against him where he’s hardening quickly.

“Mm, down boy. You don’t get the goods until tomorrow,” YN scolds, hand wrapping around his wrist and squeaking when he squeezes harder to get the point across - how much he wants her, all the fucking time.

“Want it now, pet,” Harry whines lowly, grinding his hips forward into her, “Give it t’me, y’mouth, y’cun-”

“Alright lovebirds! Separate now!” Gemma barks to interrupt with the laughter of their childhood friend Chloe.

They pull Harry by the back of the shirt and push him forward towards his room, Gemma smiles back at YN, “Make him put a ring on it before you give it to him!”

“Gem!” Harry scolds with a whine, giving his fiance puppy dog eyes and a pouted bottom lip, “Baby, don’t let them take me!”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, I love you!” YN shouts back, waving and smiling to herself as she opens up the door to her room and then locking it after she steps in. It feels weird being in a hotel room without him but she was a bit sweaty and her nerves were wiry so she decided a nice bath would be a good idea.

-

It’s past two in the morning and she was no less ready to find sleep. The worries of whether everything will be set up properly, if she’ll stutter during her vows, there were just so many things that could go wrong.

Life didn’t even seem real at this moment. 

She was marrying her husband at an amazing castle on the coast of italy with family to surround them in love. She had the perfect dress, the perfect flowers, the perfect partner. ***

She had never had it easy. Never thought she would deserve something like this. Harry had made her feel worthy of all this, they deserved to have a happy ever after. 

When it hits three in the morning, she can’t stand the quiet of the italian countryside anymore, and is swinging her legs over the bed. She pockets the keycard Harry gave her earlier in the day in her cotton shorts before sneaking out of her room.

After she taps the card to the sensor, the large oak doorknob clicks, she slips in and closes the door as silently as possible. YN steps in to the room, Harry's asleep in his bed on his stomach, face smushed into the pillow.

Harry’s facial expression and body language while he was awake was so severe, serious, intimidating. In sleep, his face was lax and his limbs loose. He looked more boyish when he was dreaming.

YN’s heart aches at how much she loves him, pulling the covers up, and crawling under them until she’s jostling him unintentionally, waking him from his light sleep with a mumble, “Baby, y’okay? Wha’s wrong? Y’alright?”

She giggles at his dazy panic, “I just missed you.”

“Mmm,” Harry agrees, pulling her all the way down and rolling on top of her, “Missed y’more.”

“You’re like a toaster!” YN squeals as he’s encompasses her, laying on her with his weight. His lips finding her pulse point and gently sucking. He was barely awake and he still couldn’t stop himself from her finding comfort in her body.

“I’m warmin’ y’up,” Harry growls against her neck before giving her a lick which has her giggling even more and pushing him off until he falls on his back and she’s swing her legs over his waist, straddling him.

“Y’breakin’ the tradition, m’heart.”

YN shrugs, humming while he palms at her belly, and she (much to his disappointment) ignores where he’s hard and waiting for her.

“I want t’sleep with you,” She pleas sheepishly, leaning all the way over to connect their lips in a quickie peck before she’s moving off of him and into his side.

“Never say no to you, y’know that, dovie,” Harry replies as if it’s obvious (it is).

“We’re getting married tomorrow,” YN whispers into the dark, like it’s a secret just between the two.

Harry nuzzles his nose against her temple, “Never wanted anythin’ more than I want you.”

YN can’t help but sniffle softly, overwhelmed with emotion and love, “You’re so good to me. I don’t deserve you.”

“You saved me. You saved me from myself, from where I was going. You gave me hope, feeling again. Y’are m’heart, it fuckin’ beats for you.”

It may not be tradition but YN wouldn’t of had it any other way, sleeping in a magnificent castle on the ethereal coast of Italy in a classic hotel room, and the excitement of their wedding rumbling in both of their stomachs.

--

“You sneaky bastards!” Bethany screeches, door flinging open with Gemma in tow as they intrude into Harry’s room - finding the couple curled up under the covers with Harry spooning YN with his face tucked into her hair.

“Fuck off,” Harry groans, pulling his fiance closer into his chest as she wriggles awake and whimpers lowly, “Mornin’ lovie.”

“Out out!” Gemma shoos, pulling the covers off of them and the sisters showing no mercy while they yank YN out of the bed and titter about how she needs to start getting ready, no time for cuddles, breaking traditions.

“Bring her back!” He whines childishly, hurling a pillow at his sister’s retreating back as they guide YN back to her own room.

“You’ll see her in a few hours!” Gemma shouts back before slamming the hotel room door and leaving Harry to doze off for just a few more minutes.

-

Hair and makeup went fast. 

It was getting closer and closer to actually walking down the aisle towards her soon-to-be life partner and she’s never felt more nervous.

Rosemary and Bethany were all rushing around - attempting to get ready in the midst of getting the bride ready.

YN didn’t want to look like a doll or have any intense makeup. It was a soft champagne smokey eye with dewy skin and a glowing highlight. A nice lip with a bit of glittering gloss.

Her hair was in big, loose curls that cascaded down her back with the front pulled off of her face. A real white flower holding it back.

Then it was the dress. She was anxious about whether Harry would like it or not. She wasn’t sure what he was expecting her to wear - a massive ball gown, a form-fitting mermaid, or something less over-the-top?

It was a show-stopper that had her memorized when she had first seen it - could automatically imagined herself getting married in Italy with this on her body.

It was also one of the only times she didn’t even care about the price tag - she knew this was it. Yes, it was absurd to spend fifty thousand pounds on a dress but it was the one time she took advantage of Harry’s wealth.

It was flowy, reminding her of the soft waves that lapped at the coast of the italian beaches. It was sophisticated, classy with a sharp starch white that billowed into a dreamlike beauty.

What had made her fall in love was the sheer, detailed sleeves that gave the dress more of a vintage, glamour appearance than the modern tight-fit, overly sexy gowns that most brides wore nowawadays. ***

The train was long and sleek. It would trail beautifully down the aisle before being bustled for the reception. It made her feel confident in a way that an item of clothing next had made her feel before.

“Your tits look amazing,” Bethany compliments before giggling when their grandmum pinches her arm for her crude language.

YN couldn’t find it in her to laugh. She felt like her voice was stuck in her throat and it wasn’t moving. 

It started to feel real.

The fact that Harry had proposed, had planned a wedding with her, that he was agreeing to marrying her today.

It was starting to scare her - no, not cold feet but anxiety that he would realize that he could do better than the lowly waitress.

Now, on a normal day, she wouldn’t be having these irrational thoughts. Today was different and it felt too good to be true.

Rosemary and Bethany sense the tension in the room, rub her shoulders, and respect her wishes when she asked for a moment alone.

YN debates picking up her phone, knowing he was busy with his bigger side of the family in the groom’s suite.

She finds herself picking up her mobile, dialing his number, and waiting with bated breath for his syrupy, warm voice to pour through the speaker.

“Everythin’ okay?” He answers, she can hear Anne and Gemma tittering about in the background, yelling at him to get a move on.

“I’m scared,” YN whispers, she holds back her tears because the last thing she wanted to do was ruin her meticulous makeup.

“Leavin’ me at the altar?” Harry jokes lowly, stepping away from prying ears.

YN giggles at his teasing tone, “Never. I…I feel like this is all too good to be true. Like it’s a dream and I’m going to wake up.”

Harry huffs, “Sweetheart. Y’my soulmate, if y’wake up - I’m right there with you, okay? God, if anyone is dreamin’ it’s me. I get t’marry the most beautiful, intelligent -“

Gemma’s voice interrupts him, “You already seduced her into marrying you! We don’t have time for this sweet talk!”

The line goes dead but YN feels much better now.

—

Rosemary was going to be the one walking her down the aisle to her new husband. It didn’t feel right to have anyone else do it as she was the one who raised her into the strong, independent woman she was today.

YN knew she wanted to have an outside wedding. 

What would be more perfect than a cool evening in Italy? It was what she had dreamed about since she was little without the idea that it would ever happen.

The weather was absolutely perfect. There was a slight warm breeze that would keep the guests from being overheated, the sun was peeking in and out of vibrant white clouds that complimented the blue sky.

She knew exactly where Harry would be standing. 

Underneath a beautiful, dated archway with intricate designs about. 

The old material had lovingly grown luscious ivy that kissed the walls in a swirling, natural design. 

YN would never forget how beautiful that ivy had looked on her wedding day, encompassing the magnificent that was her soon-to-be husband.***

The venue was open, airy but still gave off an intimacy. There weren't many rows of chairs because not many were invited to share in such an ethereal experience where soulmates have found each other and were announcing their commitment to the world.

“Are you ready, my daughter?” Her grandmother had asked quietly as they lined up behind the expansive, old brick wall that hides them from the rest of the ceremony and crowd. She could hear the whispering as people took their seats.

YN nods, her vocal cords refusing to cooperate as she imagines Harry just as nervous on the opposite side with his family. 

When the twinkling, traditional music begins from the small orchestra off to the side - the realization hits her - it is actually happening, right now.

Bethany puts her bouquet in front of her, giving one last meaningful smile at her sister before she takes her cue to turn the corner and begins her walk down the aisle. 

It meant Harry was up there, watching as she was about to appear.

Then the orchestra’s melody became louder, more grand in the signaling for the guests to stand and turned toward the back of the room - awaiting the bride’s entrance to the ceremony. 

Rosemary takes the initiative to hook their arms and guide her past the wall.

YN clutches onto her own flowers as if it’s her lifeline. ***

Every fear, insecurity, moment of self-doubt dissipates when her eyes connect to Harry’s. There is no longer a doubt in her mind that she wasn’t enough. It was a deep, unbreakable stare as Harry’s mouth parts in a gasp of awe.

He was in a suit that was undeniably him. It displayed how fucking regal he was, how it looked like he was handcrafted into the italian design, how it fit him just perfectly.

It wasn’t a normal tuxedo. It was a perfectly tailored, custom (of course) Gucci suit that excentuate his broad shoulders and the nip of his narrow hips *** ***. 

YN can’t even hear the noise of the guests - whispering about how beautiful she looks.

All she can see is her future husband, who swallows harshly as an unexpected sob wracks through his chest at the sight of his bride.

The guests can’t help but look with wide eyes as the man they know - who they’ve barely ever seen smile, let alone cry, cannot control his emotions.

Gemma, who was his ‘best man’ which they deemed ‘best woman’, rubs his back soothingly with a watery smile herself at seeing her brother so estastatic as he looks at the woman of his dreams.

Harry rubs his eyes before meeting hers again.

YN is holding back her own tears as she reaches the end of the aisle.

In tradition as old as time, Harry steps forward and Rosemary passes her hand over to him in a signal that she trusts him to take care of the girl she’s spent meticulous time raising and cultivating into the person she is today.

“I trust you to take care of my girl, she is now yours,” Rosemary tells Harry, her tone is calm and full of emotion as she allows Harry to lean over to kiss her cheek softly.

Harry nods, his usually stable voice shaky as he replies, “I promise, I’ll take care of her until the day I die.”

Rosemary nods before patting his cheek and finding her seat in the audience.

When they are finally standing face-to-face, YN reaches over to thumb off a stray tear that was sliding down his cheek before he turns his head to kiss her thumb then kissing her palm. 

Harry didn’t even acknowledge that there was anyone else watching - it was just him and her.

“Y’look breathtaking, can’t believe y’mine,” Harry murmurs trembling, his chest moving faster than usual and it felt like it was nearly impossible for him to catch his breath as he looked at the woman in front of him.

When it comes to the vows, Bethany hands over her small piece of paper that she had scribbled onto and scratched out multiple times - never quite able to get the wording just right and she says just that.

“I couldn’t find the right words to explain my love for you,” She starts, voice raspy as she looks up to see Harry watching her raptly, eyes intense and only focused on her.

“And maybe there aren’t even words to explain it because nothing felt like enough. It is how I feel a lot of the time with you. I’ll never have enough of you because you’re all-consuming to me. I have never felt happiness like I have with you.”

YN is trying to stifle her tears as she continues, Harry reaches out to rub her arm in reassurance then he lightly brushes over the new necklace he had gifted her, “You’re by far the most complex, closed-off person I have ever met. I feel like you’ve allowed me to crack the code and once I did, I wasn’t disappointed. I’ve cracked my own code, you see.”

“The code to explaining my feelings for you will come with my dedication, love, loyalty to be your wife for the rest of our lives.”

Harry can’t help what he does next despite it not falling in line at the ceremony.

His hands come up to cup her jaw and he sears his lips to hers, kissing her with all the passion and emotion he cannot seem to keep in any longer. It’s too much, has to show her in that moment how much he loves her.

A few of his uncles whistle from the crowd as their wives smack their chests in warning.

YN giggles, returning the kiss before pushing him off. 

The look in his eyes is one she knows extremely well - it sends shivers down her spine and makes her hair stand on end -, the stare down of lust and want.

“Mr. Styles,” The officiant redirects, nodding towards the piece of paper he has in his hand.

“Yeah, sorry,” Harry mumbles, unraveling the wrinkled notecard he had tucked in his inner suit pocket.

“I knew I was in love with you the moment you spilled that drink on me and undressed me in that dodgy employee bathroom,” Harry says with full sincerity, smirking at YN’s blush when he brings up the way they met.

“I tried to talk myself out of it. It was impossible to fall in love in mere minutes of meeting someone but it was the truth. I knew after our first date that I wanted y’to be m’wife. I knew after the second that I wanted y’to be the mother of my babies one day. And by the third date, I was planning on buying you a ring.”

“It sounds insane because it is. I’ve never been an impulsive, spur-of-the-moment, hopeful person before you. You made me throw all that out of the window, you make me feel alive, and when I tell you that you saved me. You saved me, m’love.”

“There is a lot of uncertainty in this world but I can tell you one thing that is absolutely fuckin’ certain -”

“Harry,” YN hisses with an eye-roll at his crude language.

“The one thing that is absolutely certain in this world is that I will always love you, always take care of you, and always do everythin’ in m’power to make you happy.”

The guests in the chairs are quite speechless. 

They’d never heard such passionate, meaningful vows from a couple. 

This was not what they were expecting of Harry who had never once put his heart on his sleeve and right now he’d laid it all out on the table.

--

“YN LN, do you agree to take Harry Edward Styles as your husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, until the end of your time on earth?” The officiant asks, voice ringing against the walls of the castle.

YN has to take a big breath before she replies in a strong, firm voice as her eyes bore into Harry’s, “I do.”

“Harry Edward Styles, do you agree to take YN MN LN as your wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse, until the end of your time on earth?” The officiant repeats.

Harry, in ever typical fashion, in his loud, booming voice replies, “Of course I fuckin’ do.”

The guests in the audience laugh lightly as the officiant states, “I now announce to you, Mr. and Mrs. Styles. You may now kiss your bride.”

It doesn’t take more than a second for Harry to step forward, grip her face and pull her in for a kiss, it doesn’t matter that their family is there to him as he licks into her mouth which is bordering on obscene before YN brings it back to a softer, more appropriate one.

He whispers against his lips, barely audible, “Can’t believe y’my fucking wife, m’fucking heart.”

--

As people are moving towards the reception area, Harry manages to find a secluded area of the outside gardens where there is no one in sight.

“Baby, baby, y’married me,” Harry is nearly chanting, like he’s in disbelief, at the same time he’s cornering his new bride up against the brick wall with his mouth trailing sloppy wet kisses down her shoulder.

“Mmm, it was everything I ever imagined, it was so beautiful. Everything I had imagined for our day,” YN replies blissfully, hands running carefully through his meticulously styled hair.

When he bends down and lifts up the bottom of her dress, she giggles when he ducks his head underneath all the tulle and fabric, finding a very skimpy pair of white lace panties that are supposed to be saved for later.

“Harry,” YN scolds half-heartedly, it would only take one person to find them in this undeniable inappropriate situation but she willingly let him push her further against the brick and take one of her legs over his shoulder.

“Baby, these fuckin’ panties,” He groans, muffled by the barrier of the heavy fabric, and she hisses when pulls them down to the thick of her thighs and his mouths finds her center within moments.

“Fu-fuck,” She hisses, trying to keep her moans down as he wastes no time in pushing in two thick fingers to curve towards her front as his tongue laps quickly and sloppily on her clit until it feels like she’s about to explode.

“S’right, fuckin’ m’cunt. I have it f’the rest of my life, found the best one,” Harry mutters against her wet skin, almost to himself like he can’t even believe the words, before he’s back to speeding up his fingers to match the rhythm of his mouth until she’s quivering for a whole other reason now.

It takes a few minutes for Harry to calm himself down enough to be able to go into the reception, he tells YN that he can’t even look at her right now because if he does he’ll be perpetually hard throughout the whole thing.

--

The reception is more of a dinner than a party. 

Fairy lights strung above the two long tables where decadent, mouth-watering food was served with the orchestra playing light, melodic music in the background. ***

It was perfect. 

Their family drank, laughed, ate, and were merry. 

Everyone was basking in each other’s company, congratulating the new couple, and enjoying all the beauty that was surrounding them at the castle. 

There is not much more to say than that. 

--

The honeymoon suite was located on one of the highest floors of the castle, away from all of the other wedding guests and staff.

YN was sure it was beautiful but from the moment she was carried over the threshold, she didn’t see anything but her new husband - he was blinding in his beauty. His skin was glowing, a slight sheen of sweat from the reception, and the still warm bite in the breeze. ***

“Sweetheart, baby. Please let m’undress you, y’my wife,” Harry pleas softly, his hands are everywhere - her face, her shoulders, hips - continuously wandering as if it’s impossible to find one place to settle.

“Please, c’mon. I need you, H,” She agrees, letting him take down the zipper on the side of her gown.

The expensive garment discarded on the floor in a pool of fabric as he fully takes in her lingerie set. ***

“Fuck me, darlin’,” Harry chuckles in amazement, fingertips tracing over the delicate lace that was stitched by Alessandro Michele himself for the bride, "Y’body is a god damn dream, look at you. - fuck.”

“Please,” His wife whimpers, voice desperate as his light and careful touches are no longer enough. 

She needs him close, she needs her husband.

“Okay, okay,” He simpers, moving her back until he can have her right where he wants her, on her back in the middle of the massive, blanket-ridden bed - her white lingerie standing out against the dark duvet.

Harry had always imagined this night. 

To have someone laid out underneath him. 

No rush, no urgency but to truly, physically show that person through touch that you love them.

He starts near her collarbone, feathery heated kisses that warm her skin as she welcomes him with heavy weight on top of her so eager he wasn’t even undressed yet.

When his mouth finds her nipples through the sheer fabric, she pushes her chest up in encouragement as he bites at the nubs with sharp but careful teeth that wet the fabric.

“It feels so good, baby,” YN mewls, letting him nip and suck for a moment before pushing him up until he’s rid of every inch of fabric that had been covering his body.

“M’always gonna make y’feel good. I’ll fuck you wherever, wehenver cause you’re m’wife,” Harry grunts, impatiently reaching behind to unclasp the corset until her breasts spill free and jiggle in a way that makes his mouth water.

“Wait, wait,” YN puts a hand to his cheek when he already has his mouth darting out to lap at her hardened nipple.

“Don’t make me wait, m’heart,” Harry grumbles with a furrowed brow, his hand still unable to stop from reaching up to palm at her full breasts, thumbs rolling the nipples as he stares fiercely up at her.

“You know how you got me a present?” YN murmurs, biting back a whimper when a zip of electricity shoots from her nipple down to where she’s already dripping for him, “I got you something too.”

Harry’s face relaxes, it’s like he finds his grounding again, “Baby, didn’t need t’get me anythin’. Y’the best fuckin’ gift I could have gotten. Does look beautiful sittin’ between y’tits though.”

His new wife giggles, “Well I really hope you like mine….it’s non-refundable.”

He looks at her with confusion even more so when she wriggles down her panties and flips on her belly with her arms resting under chin.

Of course, Harry finds it immediately and she can tell by the deep, pleased growl he emits from the back of his throat, “You fuckin’ didn’t.”

“I did.”

It was his name, small and cursive right on her bum cheek. 

After they got engaged, he went out and got her name tattooed on his pec - much to her dismay. 

She had never talked about returning the favor and had kept it the ultimate surprise.

“I think I almost just came from this,” Harry rasps, his fingers tracing the small ink over and over in awe, “Baby, y’put m’name on your bum. It makes y’look like my property, sweetheart.”

“I am yours,” YN giggles, yelping when she feels his teeth graze the sensitive skin before he’s suckling and licking at his name - can’t take his eyes off the beauty of her.

“Yeah, you fuckin’ are,” He agrees whole-heartedly, his hands calming to cup and palm at her cheeks as he fawns over his wedding present, “This is the best present I’d ever fuckin’ received, fuck - never goin’ to get over this.”

He doesn’t want to look away from the tattoo but knows how he wants to fuck his wife for the first time so he flips her onto her back once again, lips finding hers. 

She whispers, hand wrapping around his cock, “Still have to pay you back for earlier.”

“No blowies tonight, pet. We’re goin’ to do it the right way, m’gonna make love to you,” Harry murmurs, his lips finding hers as he bats her hand away to grasp at his thick base. He teases the sensitive head over her clit and entrance a few times before slowly sinking in.

“Ohh, been ready for you all day. You looked like a fucking wet dream standing at the alter, waiting for me,” YN sighs happily, wriggling her hips to adjust a bit before she spreads her legs and lets Harry rest in between them, “Ever since I saw you in the suit, I’ve been waiting.”

“Yeah, baby? I can tell, y’so wet, warm f’me,” Harry praises, his movements are slow and unrushed, their hips meeting gently as he pushes in each time with care, “Can’t believe y’gonna let me have this for the rest of m’life.”

“I love you so so much,” She utters breathlessly as he continues to make her feel so fucking full - emotionally and physically, “Best husband ever, can’t believe it.”

Harry chuckles tenderly, “Baby, I need y’to come soon. I’m so close, never come this quick. The thought of y’being my wife is making it impossible to last then with the tatto-”

YN soothes his hair in understanding, pushing up to meet their lips and allow their tongues to dance as he lifts her thigh against his hip to thrust in with a bit more force. His thumb comes to her clit to spur her along which doesn’t take much with how aroused she’s been all day.

Harry follows right after, much to his embarrassment of his lack of stamina but can you blame him? He has the hottest fucking wife on the planet.

“Round two?” YN smirks as he leans down to pepper kisses all over her cheeks. She knows the night has just begun.

“Mmm,” He agrees instantly, “Now that we made love, m’gonna fuck y’from behind so I can watch my name jiggle on your arse.”

And that’s what he does. It takes nearly no rebound time, flips her on her belly again to gaze and worship his name as he fills out in no time again. His fingers occasionally dip back between her thighs to tease at her entrance before he swipes her own wetness on the tattoo to lick it off.

She’s tired, exhausted from the events of the day but wants to reach that last orgasm before sleep overtakes them. 

On her hands and knees, Harry doesn’t pound into her like he normally would. 

Instead, he eases back in with eyes darting between his wedding present and where they’re connecting, his thumb diligently rubbing hard and steady circle on her nerves.

“C’mon wifey, need y’to not be stubborn,” Harry goads, feeling his release coming again - he pinches her clit with just enough pressure that has her whining before Harry has to hold her up by the waist as she quivers.

It has him finishing right after with a gentle smack to her bumcheek, the skin already tender and sore from all of his attention on the spot as it was.

“I loved your vows,” YN murmurs against his chest. He had wrapped her up in one of the plush blankets and he had pulled on a tight pair of briefs and they were laying on a lounge chair on the blacony under the italian stars.

“I loved yours just as much, y’did crack the code m’love ‘cause now I’m yours forever,” Harry rumbles, his voice raspy with drowsiness.

Little did they know that in a few short years, they would be back under these italian stars with knowledge that they were growing a little product of their love in her belly.

A litte baby named Ivy, just like the beautiful, lucious nature that had decorated the place in magneificent as they spoke vows - dedicating their lives to each other.

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