#oh marcel

He stole glances from his own homework as y/n filled in some practice sheets from her chemistry labs so that Harry could look them over and correct for her after. Both of them worked in silence, taking unnoticed turns to look at each other. Y/N wanted to talk about it, Harry not so much, and that was it… That was silence.

Neither had stopped thinking about the night before, both in different ways. While Harry worried and worried and worried about how he made things the worst possible and he was angry at himself for wanting more, y/n worried and worried and worried that she didn’t understand what was happening, she didn’t know why she wanted more, but alas, she did.

More of what? Nothing had happened, and from the looks of it, nothing would.

Harry read over y/n’s correct answers, she was grasping things quite fast, and crossed the few she’d gotten wrong, and while y/n waited for him to say anything, things felt the most awkward they ever had. Harry wasn’t joking or complimenting her on her good work, and she was avoiding looking him in the eye. “So…” she started, breaking the everlasting silence. Harry gulped visibly but didn’t make a move to look at her. “I… uh.” Harry cleared his throat and fumbled in his seat, faking interest in one of her answers. “Harry, about the other night…” she whispered and Harry went into panic mode. “These are good” he said, a little too loud which caused several people surrounding them to shush him. It was then Harry realised they weren’t alone. God, it felt like it was just him and y/n in that room for the longest time. He’d drowned out everything else in his mess of thoughts. “Sorry” he whispered back to no one, just apologising to fill the void. Once more he cleared his throat. “These are good. Y-you’re going great, uh… Is that a-all you had to do?” “Yes, uh… That was it” y/n didn’t know how to counter Harry’s suddenly short self. He seemed like he wanted to run, and y/n sighed giving up. She also wanted to run, especially if this was how things would be. Short and slightly rude and not at all like the friendly mood they’d settled in and one confusing night easily took away. “I should leave then” and without another word, or another glance at Harry’s defeated face, she gathered her belongings and waved him goodbye, leaving a guilt-filled Harry frozen in his spot.

He was making things worse and now it had nothing to do with the things he’d said in her room. He was pushing her away and being rude and he felt immediate guilt. He shouldn’t be treating her that way, after all it was all his fault. Harry sighed and slapped himself in his mind for his strange behaviour, sinking into his seat and throwing his glasses on the table in defeat, rubbing his eyes. He needed to apologise to her, and while he was at it, man up and finally talk about it.

Harry wasn’t good at avoiding Jonathan, specially when his mind wasn’t into it, and that’s why just barely after taking ten steps in the direction of his dorm building, he got pushed back by the tall guy who seemed like he was out for blood he didn’t collect on their last encounter.

Jonathan was saying some things. Whatever it was it turned to white noise to Harry.

He didn’t know what was wrong with him but he was angry. Angry and tired. He wasn’t in the mood for Jonathan and his nonsense, and all he wanted to do was go to his dorm and rest, catch some sleep he’d missed due to overthinking what his relationship with y/n would be after that thing happened, and he was fuming that he was fucking things up so bad. He didn’t have time for Jonathan spewing empty threats and delaying the punch he’d deliver to Harry’s face. Shut up Jonathan, he kept thinking, just fuck off, he said over and over again in his head “Fuck off Jonathan” he ended up murmuring, and immediately the urge to take it back or cover his mouth as if he couldn’t believe he’d said that, ran through his veins, but tiredness ran faster, and pushed it back. No guilt. “What did you just say to me, Marcel?” and Harry hesitated, but not because he wouldn’t say it again, but because he wanted to make sure he delivered it with enough punch that would hopefully end Jonathan’s stupid boasted ego. “I said… Fuck. Off.” and Harry pushed at Jonathan’s shoulders, succeeding at getting him off his chest and at a safe distance. Jonathan was shocked, mouth opened in surprise. “Oh, that’s it, Styles” and with that line he delivered the blow that broke Harry.

Harry was running. 

Unbelievable, he thought to himself. It was unbelievable how he could continue to fuck things up. First he says that to y/n’s face, and then he’s rude to her in the library and now this. This was the last straw, he was sure. Y/N wouldn’t want anything to do with him, but he had to let her know. She had to hear it from him and not from someone else. He had to tell her before someone else did and everything went to shit even more than it already had. And so Harry was running, at the fastest his feet could carry him to her room, and then he was banging and then he was apologising for things y/n couldn’t comprehend. 

“Harry?” she opened her door, surprised to see him there, so distressed. “I’m sorry, I am so sorry, I don’t know what got into me” his brow was bleeding a little bit and he slammed the door after he allowed himself in, taking both of y/n’s hands in his as he continued to say he was sorry for who knows what. The only thing y/n could imagine was that he was apologising for the night before, but she felt like she was the one that needed to say it, she felt like she was the one that broke some rule or boundary and made things awkward. “No, Harry, stop. I’m sorry” “No no” he cut her off “That’s not… this is not about yesterday I-God… I didn’t meant to” “Calm down Harry, I don’t understand” and he took a deep breath in, letting it out with words he didn’t think he’d say after all that had happened between him and y/n. “I punched Jonathan”

Despite Harry speaking incredibly fast, which y/n didn’t think she’d ever witness, she understood most of what he said, that he was angry and tired, and Jonathan was pushing and when he punched, Harry didn’t think twice but to punch back for once, and felt immediate regret. His fist was red and had some dried blood on it, so y/n knew just by looking at it that it was a hefty jab, a mean right hook. 

“Okay. But why are you sorry?” y/n asked, genuinely confused, as she grabbed a small towel and dabbed away the blood on Harry’s brow, placing his glasses on her desk. “Because…” he didn’t know where to start. He knew exactly why, but he didn’t know if y/n would understand. “Because I’m not- I don’t want to be Jonathan, okay?” y/n was confused. “Of course you’re n-” he shook his head. “No, I mean… I know how he got, you told me about his anger and... and you guys broke up because of it, and I… I-I just don’t want to be another guy that solves shit by punching, to you. I don’t want to be another Jonathan, I’m not, I swear, I… I lost it and I regretted it immediately! I j-just… I’m not like that, I’m not some a-angry guy that needs to… to let it out in some way, a-and you don’t need or deserve another guy like that, ever, and, and, Christ y/n, I’m not that, I-I’m sorry I-” Harry stopped in his tracks when y/n grabbed his cheeks to keep him from pacing left and right, and focused him on her. “Harry” she started, barely above a whisper, causing goosebumps to raise on his arms. “You’re not Jonathan, and you won’t be. Not to me. Punching someone doesn’t even put you close, Harry. There’s… It’s not just punches, okay? That’s not why we broke up and you know it. You’re nothing like Jonathan and anyone can see that from miles away, not just me, and I know that you will never be and… I-The fact that you care about me this way, I... Harry, you are…”

Whatever Harry was, the tingles running down his spine and the butterflies on his tummy didn’t let her finish it, the overpowering rush taking over and making him lean forward and crash his lips against hers.

The kiss was short, a mere split-second weakness and desire-driven impulse, but Harry can feel his heart aching the moment he stops having her lips on his, as if that short kiss was all it took for his whole soul to say ‘this is it’, and now he’s been deprived of it.

With just partly open lids and lips, y/n and Harry stare at each other for a bit, shocked and confused, searching for more, and before he can mumble another one of his ‘I’m sorry’s that y/n is tired of hearing, she’s pressing him back to her mouth, this time for just a little longer. They can both feel the kiss is too short as they pull away, because both their chests ache for more, between the pent up tension from the night before and the bubble they have created, enclosing them in safety, desire and want, they both sigh before diving back in for more and more and more.

There’s a fire in Harry’s veins that intensifies with the memories of having her in his dreams, the build up from wanting her so bad to finally having her making him feel like he’s about to explode in a puddle of feelings for her, and that fire can’t be stopped, specially when he bites down ever so softly on her bottom lip, eliciting a small moan from her, that disappears into his own mouth, as it drives his most carnal impulses and he picks y/n up by her thighs, wrapping them around his frame and walking them towards the wall where the more dominant, sexy side of Harry, the one y/n never thought existed, comes forth and short of slams her against the wall as he sinks his hips in, getting more and more of her.

And it’s not like y/n’s not enjoying it, she likes getting somewhat of a repeat of the other night, this time getting just a tad more, but there’s some pain jolting through her body as she crashes freshly-tattooed-side to the wall first, hissing in the middle of the kiss. “Ow” she yelps, and Harry’s quick to stand back, one hand under one of her thighs, the other to the wall, separating their bodies from the hard surface. There’s panic in his face. Was he too rough? Was that too much? Oh, no, whatever will he do, he’s close to spiralling out of control in bad thoughts. “Fuck, I’m sorry, did I hurt you? I hurt you, right? I-” “No, no. I just. Ouch” y/n tries to reach back and itch the skin “My tattoo just…” “Oh god, I’m so sorry” and Harry’s pulling further back, letting her body slide down his, back on her own two feet, not before she can feel the bump in the middle of his jeans as she drops back down, causing her cheeks to redden almost immediately. “Are you okay?” “Yeah, just… Stung a bit” “God, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me, I was too rough, I’m sorry” “Harry, it’s okay, I li-” y/n snaps her mouth shut. Was she about to admit that she liked whatever it was that took over Harry? That she liked being in that position? Or maybe she just enjoyed a really good kiss. She enjoyed all of it, but she couldn’t bring her rosy-cheeked self to say it out loud. With a silence that made everything more evident, Harry’s face flushed red as well, both of them swaying on the balls of their feet as they remained at half-arms-length, yet scared to touch once again. “Harry” she whispers, the silence too much and too long to bare next to the incredibly painful charge of lust in the air. “Y/n” he says back, and as they look at each other they can finally read it in the other’s eyes.

I want you. I want more of you.

The door to y/n’s room opens and her and Harry are quick to jump a few inches of the ground and away from each other, frightened by the sudden intrusion and interruption, but on the other side stands Jenna, y/n’s roommate, the one that’s never around, the one that Harry often forgets exists and can’t have a worse timing to make her existence remembered. “Oh… Hi!” “Jenna! Hi!” y/n smiles nervously, holding back an awkward laughter. Jenna practically lives at her boyfriend’s place, only coming around when she needs something, like free washing machines or some of y/n’s clothes, or when her and her boyfriend argue. “Hello” Harry adds just above a shy whisper, clearing his throat, scared that people can smell the hunger off of him. His hands place themselves strategically over his aching center as he scoots towards the door. “I was just uh, leaving… yeah, bye” He turns to say to y/n and the urge to press a kiss to her mouth as a gentle goodbye is too big to hold in, yet somehow he manages, pressing his lips to her cheek instead, lingering just a nano-second too long and then rushing off before y/n can say anything.

And what would she say? Ask him to stay? Offer to go with him? She’s glued to her spot, replaying what just happened between them in her head over and over and just getting redder and redder. Jenna looks between y/n and the door, back and forth a couple times. “Did I… Did I interrupt something?” Jenna says with arched eyebrows, snapping y/n back to reality. “What? No, no, ugh I just...” y/n walks over to her bed, letting herself drop on it face first, wanting to scream into her pillow. She takes a deep breath instead “Weren’t you at Nick’s today, Jenna? And yesterday too?” “He’s being a dick, but that’s not the point here. Oh my god! I did interrupt something!” y/n remains silent for a moment, it’s impossible to deny anyways. She sighs. “Yes, now shut up” “No way! I’m so sorry! Tell me all about it” and y/n laughs because this is just like Jenna. “I would, but you cockblocked me so hard I might keep this information in as revenge” she says, throwing a pillow at her friend and keeping her mouth in a tight lip smile throughout Jenna’s whole tantrum that she wants to know so bad, and her million apologies that she interrupted something so big.

All y/n can do is sigh and wish for the next time she sees Harry to be… A little less confusing but just as enjoyable. Maybe more.

Harry heard her before he saw her. Earlier that morning, the following day, there she was, calling his name through the hallways in campus, greeting him with a big smile and pressing a short kiss to his cheek that caused them both to blush. Harry had a hard time staying still the night before and had giddily told Nick all about the kiss he’d shared with y/n and how his feet felt like they hadn’t touched the ground since.

Y/N and Harry stood there like two fools, smiling and blushing and looking. Neither knew what to say until y/n snapped out of her trance and asked him to help her cram some studying before her chemistry lab quiz she’d have later that week that she’d forgotten all about. And in a hurry Harry proposed they made themselves at home at the library, where they currently where sat in silence, sneaking giggly glances at each other, but sat far enough away that Harry’s urges wouldn’t spiral out of control and make him kiss her again. He enjoyed the kiss, a lot, but didn’t want to push anything else on her, the topic of whatever happened a few night’s back still fresh in the back of his mind, and despite feeling like y/n enjoyed the kiss as well, he wanted to keep his distance just in case he was misreading the situation.

The silence was only interrupted with small, almost inaudible giggles that escaped both of them whenever they caught the other glancing, and little by little, between “is this okay?”s and “can you remind me of that law again?”s, Harry and y/n were scooted closer down the table, to the point where if Harry pressed himself closer to the wooden bench, he’d touch his knee to hers.

He did it once out of nervousness, and then a second time, testing the waters and just for the thrill of it, and then by the third time it was y/n who moved and made sure their knees touched for the remainder of their short improv study session.

“I have a sheet with how Mr. Greenwald likes to do the chem tests, I’ll email it to you tonight” Harry said as he walked down a library aisle, returning the books he’d borrowed, with y/n quick in tow, her own materials in her arms. “Yeah, thank you” Harry just nodded at her whispery reply. And it was then, hidden from the rest of the silent students and at this close proximity that they found themselves back in the mindset of the day before. Harry’s eyes dancing between y/n’s shiny ones, faces inching closer in hopes for a repeat for that they didn’t feel they had finished. Harry swallowed hard. “I-I should g-go to class” y/n said, nose bumping against his. Through the thickness of his glasses he found different spots and marks around her cheeks that only made his heart adore her more. She was too pretty for words. Harry nodded, although he didn’t fully know what she was talking about. “I should get to work” he whispered back, voice barely audible, except y/n was so close she didn’t need any more volume from him.

With clumsy hands, Harry reached to his side, not paying attention to anything other than y/n and her pretty face and how fast his heart was racing, trying to place a book back into the small nook it left when he took it down, missing terribly and having it scatter down to his feet, with a thud weakened by the carpeted ground. Y/n and Harry pull apart in surprise, not fully believing what had just happened, the trance they had sunk into for a brief moment. Harry cleared his throat silently, toying with his frames on his face before bending over to pick up the book and straighten the creased page where it fell on. They whispered short goodbyes and went their separate ways, both with troubled breathings and warm cheeks, thinking of how much more different things would have ended had Harry’s hands not been so clumsy. Harry thought his glasses would fog over with how steamy he felt his face get, but he marched on towards his dorm, trying to calm his beating heart and get ready for work before he was late.

It was the end of the week when they saw each other again. The bell to the bakery door dinged, and Harry didn’t look up from placing baked goods on the display, until a familiar voice called for him over the decorated counter. “Hi!” y/n chirped happily. “Oh, hey, what are you doing here?” Harry asks genuinely confused, pushing his glasses up his nose from his hunched position. He doesn’t remember y/n coming in this bakery much, except she’d been there more times since he got back to working there and after he’d started tutoring her. Harry wanted to think it was a coincidence, but wouldn’t lie that the idea of it not being one, was making his stomach fill with butterflies. Was she coming more because of him? No way. He couldn’t believe it. “Jenna wanted some cookies before we went to the mall” y/n leaned over the counter, swaying left and right adorably, her smile wider than ever. “I have great news” “What’s that?” he couldn’t help but smile back. “I got an A on that test” she winked at him. “What?! Congrats! That’s so great!” y/n brushed her shoulder, as if saying ‘I’m the best, I know’ before bursting into a full on giggle. “I just happen to have the best tutor” Harry immediately smiled and blushed at her words. “Shut up.” he waved a hand, dismissing her, but she continued to say how true was it that he’s just that good of a teacher. Harry interjected “We have to celebrate!” “Totally!” And before anything else could be said, Harry’s boss called him from the kitchen, interrupting his little break and happy interaction with y/n, and she smiled at him as he pointed behind him, rolling his eyes, understanding he had to get back to work. “Stop by my dorm later, yeah? I’ll bring cupcakes” y/n fake gasped in excitement at his words that were laced with a warm smile. “Had me at cupcakes” and with that she leaned even further in and pressed her lips to Harry’s dimpled cheek, whispering “see you” before skipping over to her friend by the door, and out of the bakery, hair bouncing left and right as she swayed away, leaving Harry the closest to a puddle of adoration he has ever been. Any more and he’d be melted just as much as the rich chocolate frosting on the goods he was arranging on the display.

By the time he got off work and all the way back to campus, y/n was leaning on his door when he walked down the hall. “Hey! Been waiting long?” “Nope, just got here really” she smiled at him so big, his cheeks were already feeling extra red. “Okay” he whispered shyly, reaching over and unlocking his door, letting her walk in first, then locking it again behind him. The small pink box from the bakery was placed on his desk and y/n clapped excitedly, like a little child that knew they were having their favourite for dinner.

Y/N recounted how easy she’d breezed through the exam as they lounged around in his room, sprawled across bean bags with the box of cupcakes between them. “Damn. You won’t even need me tutoring you at this pace” Harry praised her, but her face pulled into a frown, making him grow confused. “Aw man, I like you tutoring me. I like studying with you” she said truthfully, reaching out and poking his shoulder. They were back to their comfortable playful banter, with all the memories of kissing fresh in their minds, to the point y/n thought they were flirting but she was perfectly fine with it. She wanted to. She wanted to be cute and play coy and possibly get cheeky and kiss him some more, but the way Harry’s always been more shy and nervous – except when he was slamming her against a wall, that was something else – she sensed that she would have to take it a tad slower. “I like studying with you too” he admitted, still shocked that she’d said it first. He loved studying with her. Being with her in general was his favourite way to spend the time. “Bummer there’s nothing I can tutor you in when this semester’s over, you know-it-all” y/n joked, taking a bite of a cupcake. “Hey, not my fault.” he laughed “but, I don’t know… we could... just study together, despite the class… I mean, if you’re okay with that” “Of course! We can compare schedules and see when we could just… study… together, maybe on the weekends?” y/n blushed. “Yeah. Might have Intro to Philosophy on saturdays though” “I have to take that too! Let’s sign up for the same block!” y/n chimed in with excitement, reaching over to high five Harry as his face broke out into a huge smile, the kind that y/n loved seeing on his features. The kind of smile that made her happy as well, the kind that settled her nerves before an exam.

The kind that made her want to kiss him.

That feeling hadn’t left her alone for the past couple of days. It was like it chased her and she found herself wanting to be caught, wondering if maybe she should push again. She stared at the back of him as he stood by his desk, cleaning up after himself and gathering things to throw away alongside the empty box of cupcakes. Her eyes ran up and down his frame. He was something else, something she hadn’t figured out yet, but was pleased to know she was at least on her way to. He was giving her all these emotions she wasn’t sure of at first, but now she was aching for more. She couldn’t remember ever feeling like this when she and Jonathan, or any other boyfriend she’d had, started dating. That feeling like you’re on fire but you’re okay with it.

That, she would call lust.

But what would she call the butterflies and the tingles, the childlike giddiness and the blushing cheeks?

It would have to remain unnamed for now, at least while lust bubbled over faster, driving her towards Harry as she tapped his shoulder making him turn towards her. Harry was doing his own batch of silent thinking and wondering, a hand pinching the bridge of his nose as the other set his glasses down on his desk before focusing on her with a soft smile. He’d gone from not being able to say a word to y/n, to kissing her. And if his eyes and his gut didn’t deceive him, he’d spotted something that resembled his own want for her, in her eyes as they looked back at him, and he found it again now, when he turned around and there she was, her chest almost flush against his, cheeks red and heavy breathing. There was something there that acted like some sort of magnet, bringing his own reciprocating feelings to the surface of it all.

No words were shared between the two, only longing looks and a mute conversation that resonated deep within them. Before Harry’s anxious brain could kick in with something stupid disguised as logic – like stopping the situation in fear of not being enough – y/n pushed forward and pressed her lips to his.

Harry missed it. Kissing her again made him realise that he had somehow missed the feeling. He didn’t know how it was possible, for he had only kissed her briefly once before, but somehow he missed it. He surely missed the rush that it sent through his veins, and before he knew it, just like the first time they kissed, he started taking control, pressing his body to hers, wanting more and more – mainly because he didn’t know if he’d ever get more of it, of her, and he wanted to make it last – and moving both their bodies until she’s flush between his chest and the wall, the position triggering the memory of last time, when she’d squealed in pain from her tattoo. Harry pulled away, out of breath and disoriented. She was too much for him to handle, too much for his brain and body and heart to be in any sort of sync anymore. “Wait, wait” he said between puffs of air. Y/N’s chest moved up and down fastly, her own lungs out of air as well. “I don’t… I don’t want to hurt you, I don’t mean to… I just” He didn’t know where to start, how to tell her that he wanted her to want it too, that he wanted to treat her right, and that this wasn’t only lust for him. This was so much more, so much that she didn’t know, and he was afraid she’d run if she knew, but instead, as he searched her eyes for any sign of discomfort – and deep down in his brain for excuses to cut it all short – what he found was the same desire sparkling back at him. “Harry…–” she interrupted his babbling in a shy whisper – “I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt” her hand brought his face to look at her, deep into her irises, hoping she was saying everything she didn’t know how to phrase with just a look. Their breaths evened out, the only noise in the room. “Nothing hurts” she finished, engulfing them in silence as Harry let the words sink in, allowing the meaning behind it to go through his thick skull. For a nerdy, studious man like himself, y/n was the one topic he didn’t get exactly right, until this point. He was sure this was the first time he was truly in sync with her. As if he’d received an electric shock, his body reacted, snapping out of some sort of trance, and landing his lips to hers again.

This was what she meant, what she was saying.

Harry had never had a girl, or anyone really, in his room like this. It never felt like this before, like the air was too hot, but not hot enough. The dorm had never felt so big and spacious that he needed the warmth of another body melted into his, but that’s what he wanted with y/n, and with a swift tug he knew she felt it too.

They stumbled around the room, on their way to his bed while groping and pinching and discovering with their hands as their mouths had a dance of their own. It was frantic and a little messy, but it meant everything to Harry. He feared one of her pinches would be hard enough to wake him up, and he’d sit up in bed and realise this was another one of those dreams. He’d had enough of those; the real deal was here and wanted him too, the realization of it making him woozy.

Y/N was laid under him, shirt long forgotten and hair a mess but the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on anyways. She worked her fingers around the hem of his jeans, itching to pull them off, starving for more skin on skin contact. His tattooed chest already doing wonders to her emotions as it pressed to her naked one. Garments were softly yet rapidly removed, the speed at which things progressed not taking away from the meaning behind it. How fast they were going didn’t make this just another encounter, but instead spoke loudly of how much they both craved the other, so much to the point that another second without it would drive them mad.

It was heat, a heat they had been deprived of and hadn’t realised until now.

Open mouth to open mouth, they breathed in and out in short huffs, bodies so close they didn’t need to say anything to have a chat. The sliver of doubt that crossed Harry’s eyes was so minimal y/n almost didn’t catch it, but she did because suddenly it was like they were born to be this connected. Y/N’s hands pulled Harry back to her lips by the neck, reassuring him in a way, as his snaked under her body, lifting her off the bed enough to remove the last piece of clothing that stood between complete intimacy. It was then that Harry really knew what was about to happen as he reached over his nightstand for protection. This wasn’t just his imagination, this was something else. This was it. “Y/N” he whispered to her neck, lifting himself up so he could look at her, sprawled out on his mattress, glowing and nude. The sight alone made him ache. She was… He didn’t have a word. No dictionary he could read had the right word to describe her. How she bit her lip, and her eyes had a vibrancy in them he never imagined possible, how she sensually mouthed the barely audible words that meant the demise of his self control. “I want you, Harry”

That was it.

Trembling hands prepared him for it as he took deep breaths. With long groans and a slow rhythm he’d thrusted into her, her warmth welcoming him, immediately sending his hormones in a frenzy. Her mewls were his new favourite sound and the way his face scrunched up in pleasure with every dip of his hips, was her new favourite picture.

Lust.

Lust, but so tender and caring. Maybe she could call those other feelings that. She didn’t want to waste time on that. All of her focus was on Harry, clouding her brain like a storm season, hitting her in spots undiscovered, now brought to life by him. “H-Harry I’m- God” Y/N slowly wrapped her legs around his figure, dragging them along his thighs until they were up by his hips, ankles crossing behind his back, hands digging into his shoulder blades. He didn’t just feel good with his slow paced thrusts, he felt good to the touch. He felt good to feel.

“F-fuck me” he moaned to her ear, eyes closed shut in bliss, dropping kisses and bites down towards her neck and collarbones. Harry wanted every little bit of her, something to take from this and keep forever. He feared he would screw it all up and he’d be sunken down back to just dreaming of her, so he wanted to collect everything he could. Her taste, her smell, how she felt around him. It was all a mission to keep her close, just like this, for whenever he’d need her. He wanted to close his eyes and be able to see this replaying every time. Looking up to her was quite the sight. Lids at half mast, open mouth and little moans of “Yes, Harry, fuck” that would – if he was lucky – haunt him forever.

He wanted to smack himself for being this stupid, for allowing this to happen knowing that he probably wouldn’t get it again. Make it unforgettable Harry, he kept thinking, for both of you. But it was hard.

It was hard to want her for this long, so much that in just a matter of minutes he was on the edge of his finish.

He looked down at her, the words escaping him before he could process any syllable that stumbled between gasps for air. “Gorgeous, fuck– You’re so gorgeous, you’re beautiful, y/n, you’re- Christ” the last of it came in a shivering huff, as the tickling of his orgasm crept up his spine. “M-more, Harry, I-I want you” her back arched off the bed, her own finish threatening to take over, ready to wash over her like an ocean. “I’m close- I’m- Harry, yes” “Me too. Y/N… You-you…” he couldn’t finish that sentence, feeling her tighten around him, his grip on her waist tightening, as her nails left marks on his back, their chests pressed together to where no one could tell where Harry ended and y/n started. His arm felt like giving out as his resolve weakened and Harry’s own release came forth. Almost like a chain reaction, y/n let out a long moan as she climaxed, and within the next few seconds Harry followed right back, spilling into the condom in hot spurts, an orgasm he’d only dreamed of but finally had.

There wasn’t any collapsing onto her body, for he was already so close to her during the whole act that it only felt like being naked once more when he shuffled to her side, only half his body on top of hers. Neither had a thing to say as their respirations calmed, and once more only their eyes talked as they gazed into each others’.

Harry didn’t know what to say, where to even start. It would be too much to admit he’d dreamt of this, right? Yeah, that was too forward. If he ever wanted a chance with her, that was a sliver of information he should keep a secret. Y/N didn’t know what to say either, deciding it was better to not say anything at all and just reach over and delicately run her fingers through his hair.

He looked so pretty like that, without his thick glasses, spent and fucked out, what a sight, and y/n realised Harry had started to look pretty every time she saw him.

It took them just a few minutes of relaxing and assimilating what had just happened, before y/n was taken over by giggles. Awkward, post-sex giggles that made Harry’s dimpled smile surface in a flash. She was the most beautiful thing in the world, how and when did he get this lucky?

Y/N bit her lip once more as the laughter subsided, and it was Harry’s turn to caress her cheek with delicate hands. His green eyes said it all, and y/n felt as if he was telling her all the compliments in the world with just a look, causing her to blush along with him. “Har-” she began, finally one of them starting the conversation that so badly needed to happen but neither knew how to begin, and was interrupted by an abrupt knock on Harry’s door. “Room check, Styles!” They short of jumped off the bed at the sudden intrusion, Harry immediately scurrying to grab his clothes and the blanket by their feet for y/n to cover her naked body. Fuck fuck fuck, was all he kept murmuring under his breath as he ran to dress himself. He knew that on the other side of his door was Liam, the more chill monitor, the one Harry was sorta friends with. He signalled to y/n to hide while he attended the door, and, wrapped in just a sheet she got up, positioning herself behind a wall and trying to slowly dress herself in hidden while holding in her laughter. For some reason this was hilarious to her. Just how many times will her moments with Harry get interrupted.

Harry opened the door just a bit, enough for Liam to peek in and go away, if it wasn’t for the fact that Harry looked so incredibly guilty, it would be unfair for Liam to not mess with him a bit. “Hi!” Harry said, a bit to over the top. “Room check, everything okay?” “All good” he rushed “It’s past hours, any girls here?” Liam tried to walk in the room but Harry stood his ground, keeping him from storming in. “Nope” Liam squinted at Harry’s nervous stance and fast, chirpy replies. “Hmmm, how about you let me in then, Harry?” “Uhh… i-it’s a mess in here, y-you wouldn’t-” “We’re all men! –” Liam countered – “Of course it’s a mess, nothing I haven’t seen before… Right?” He arched an eyebrow in challenge. Harry was hiding something, it was clear, and Liam wanted to ruffle him up a bit, so he pushed again, this time opening the door a little more and a little more, despite Harry trying his best to stop him. “Liam… L-Liam please, stop. Liam, I swear” he said in a rushed, hushed voice, practically begging him to go away. “Aw c’mon Harry” Liam teased “I need to do my-” With a quick gaze around the room Liam saw it. 

The door had opened just enough for Liam to see a quick reflection in the mirror at the other end of the room. The silhouette of a girl, he couldn’t tell who from his spot – and neither did he see anything inappropriate, thank God – wrapped up in a sheet and cowering behind the wall trying to get dressed quickly. Liam’s jaw dropped open slowly, eyebrows rising in shock. “Oh” he murmured, causing Harry to turn around and catch what Liam had seen, nerves and slight anger immediately rushing through his veins. With a swift push, he got Liam back to the hall, keeping him away. “Liam-” “Oh, Harry...” he teased some more, winking and raising his eyebrows in a suggestive manner, causing the curly haired one to grow as red as an actual tomato. He’s sure he’s never seen anyone turn this red in his life. Liam raised his hand for a high five but Harry punched him in the shoulder, hard enough for him to back down but not enough to really really hurt him. “Shut up” Harry whispered. “I didn’t say anything!” “Go, Liam!” he shooed his friend away with a groan. “Fine, fine” Liam raised his arms in the air in a sign of defeat. “But she’s got 10 minutes to leave” he whispered to Harry before winking at him one last time and walking away.

Harry rested his back on the door as he closed it, letting out a long exhausted sigh. Unbelievable. He rubbed his eyes in annoyance. This was the last thing he needed, but his anger dissipated quickly when y/n walked up to him, slipping her arms through the sleeves of her hoodie, getting officially dressed back again. Now Harry was back to being shy and red beyond belief. “God that was so…” “Embarrassing? Yeah” y/n said between giggles, making light of the situation for both their sakes and inducing a giggle to come out of him as well. She took a hold of one of Harry’s hands and squeezed it. “I should go, then?” All Harry could do was nod as he bit his lip. God, he wanted her to stay, every day if she wanted, but he knew she couldn’t. Maybe someday, just how tonight had been a dream come true, maybe her staying was a wish that life would grant Harry down the road, but for now she needed to leave. Harry cleared his throat in awkwardness. “Y/N, uh… I just… I” she shushed him “Yeah I know… that was…” “Yeah” again, they giggled. This time it was Harry who, without even expecting it himself, initiated the contact, bringing her close to his body by wrapping his arms around her waist, placing her close enough that his heart beat sped up once again. “It was good” she whispered, and it almost made him drop dead when his heart skipped a beat. It was good? She had enjoyed it? “Yeah?” it was her time to just nod coyly, standing on the tips of her toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. If it were up to Harry he’d freeze time right there, in that post-climax, comfortable, giggly heaven they had wrapped themselves in.

When she stepped back, Harry was still savouring the whole night. He didn’t want any detail to escape his brain later on, or ever. Y/N was preparing to leave and the moment she’d stepped out of his room Harry felt himself spiraling. God, he didn’t even tell her how he felt, he didn’t know if she thought he just wanted something physical, he knew nothing. All of that had happened and he still felt like he knew nothing.

He figured this was as good of a time as any to make sure she knew that he really really wanted her, and not just in the way he’d just had her. And so, with a shaky breath and equally shaky hands, he gathered the confidence he didn’t know he could even muster until a few weeks back, and turned around, deciding to go after her.

Opening his door he comes face to face with her and for a second they just stare. She had also turned around, not ready to leave just yet. Not ready to finish a conversation she wasn’t sure had actually started. “Harry, I-” “Go on a date with me” He said, cutting her own sentence short “Please.” His hands were in tight fists in anticipation as another thought ran through his brain. 

What if she wanted something physical, he didn’t even think of that, he could be royally fucking everything up by being so forward like that. 

He looked up at her, peeking at her expression, and all of his body was relieved to find a smile on her features. That was a good sign? Right? “Okay” she whispered, so silently Harry didn’t think he was meant to hear it but he did. He did and there was nothing stopping the butterflies and the tingles and everything nice that took over him at that moment. “Yes?” he asked, just to make absolutely sure. “Yes” and this time she nodded as well, giving him a visual that, indeed, she had agreed.

Neither said much after that. Now there was truly nothing left to be said. With little whispery “see you tomorrow”s, they parted ways for good, y/n a mess of giggles and blushing cheeks as she walked back to her dorm not far away, and Harry an explosion of butterflies and his face all hot as he let his body fall back on his bed and he replayed everything, from the beginning, from the moment the cute girl had sat next to him in chemistry 101 and had laughed at his jokes. The same girl that flooded his dreams and had been driving him crazy since then and that he now had a date with.

He wanted to see her again already, he even wanted to dream of her again and again and again, but with all that excitement he wasn’t sure he could sleep a wink.

Thanks for reading! FEEDBACK IS GREATLY APPRECIATED PLEASE!!! I want to know what you think of this. I MIGHT HAVE AN IDEA FOR A LITTLE EXTRA BLURB REGARDING SOMETHING MORE SMUTTY SO MAYBE THAT WILL COME SOMEDAY. 

Anyways, do let me know what you thought etc etc! please! I Beg! And you’re always welcome to come chat about marcel in different scenarios, anything really. 

Smooches Iv. XO.

Y/N didn’t get to tell the story in full to Harry that night. She had started way back, and much to Harry’s heartache, Jonathan sounded like a very nice boyfriend from what y/n did get to say before Tommy, one of the monitors, came knocking announcing girls were no longer allowed in the boy’s quarters for the day. Tommy was the more strict monitor, the one that stayed until the girls left, so y/n was forced to pick up her things and leave with the promise that they’d get together to study in the library the following day, and she could tell him the rest of her story, but it was too late, Harry already had a peek and interest for what could y/n have possibly meant that it was her fault, and he couldn’t catch much sleep afterwards.

He wanted and hoped that he would get the rest of the story straight from her lips, and not from another shove by Jonathan, but life wasn’t fair to ‘Little Marcel’ these past few days, and so a shove is what he got. He came face to face with Jonathan in the middle of a somewhat empty parking lot in campus, terrible mistake for Harry to walk that zone alone, for Jonathan jumped like animal after its prey and caught him off guard. Harry’s fists tingled, he wasn’t back into the whole boxing thing enough just yet to square up a good punch back to Jonathan, but the latter was surprised when Harry seemed angry and grabbed his shirt collar the same way he had his in his hands, nostrils flaring. Harry was angry. Not a lot of sleep, the suspense of a story keeping him on edge, and overall being fed up with Jonathan’s antics had been the perfect formula for Harry’s sudden courage flare.

“Oh, want to fight back, don’t we?” Jonathan almost spat in his face, shoving him against a wall in his tight hold. Harry shuffled, trying to break loose from his grip and get the upper hand by pushing him away, but he struggled. His mind wasn’t into it. He was annoyed that all he knew of the story consisted in this… this beast being an actual decent boyfriend and he can’t even wrap his head around how that could have been a thing, ever. This man once treated the girl he likes really well, and it angered him that the prospect of him ever being anything but wonderful to her was going to be hidden somewhere in the ending of the tale he was going to get in a few hours. It just didn’t settle right and Harry wanted nothing more than to punch him, even if just for the doubts of whether or not he’d hurt y/n in any way. But all Harry could manage was to remember his breathing exercises from all those years he accompanied his sister to yoga, and strike right where he wanted the most. “Why, Jonathan?” The phrase caught the tall strong man off guard, allowing Harry to push back and get a better grip at him. “Why do you hate me?”

In all the time Harry’s unpleasantly known Jonathan, he’s not sure he’s seen him with the expression on his face the question triggered. A mixture between anger, regret, and something close to pity or sadness, he couldn’t tell. Specifically towards what, he’ll probably never know, but whatever it was didn’t stop Jonathan from taking in a short breath and change his look to only anger, as he thrusted Harry’s body back against the wall, scraping the backs of his shoulders with the rough material, surely leaving cuts and scratches. Harry waited for a punch in the middle of his weakened grip due to the burning sensation of his skin scratching open against a wall, but Jonathan let go, leaving him to squirm in pain, and walked away, not before spitting his way and murmuring through gritted teeth. “You took her from me”

In his dreams Harry had y/n’s hands over his body in more ways than one, and certainly after the last incident with Jonathan she had been very handsy when making sure his bruises didn’t get any worse. But this was a whole new level. Even with the hovering tension of a heavy story left unfinished, Harry was sat on y/n’s bed not long after she’d ran into him following his encounter with Jonathan, shirtless and hissing every time whatever she was using to clean his cuts touched his open skin, and trying to make his hormones calm down. Focus on something else, he kept thinking to himself. Focus on anything other than her hands touching your skin, the slight pleasure that spurts from the pinching pain, or how naked you feel in front of her. Focus on anything else. He’d mentioned how Jonathan reacted when he asked him… the thing and y/n’s eyes immediately welled up with angry tears. “Harry…” she started in a whisper, making goosebumps raise on Harry’s skin where her breath hit. She was kneeled behind him, cleaning off little rocks and blood from the cuts. He knew what her tone meant, she was about to say how sorry she was for Jonathan’s doings, once again. “Don’t… Let’s just… ignore that” he sighs, fixing his glasses on his nose and taking a sideways glimpse at her frown that somehow made her impossibly cuter. It was a wonder to see how her cheeks only got prettier every time he saw her. “No, let’s not…” she grabbed his arms making him turn slightly on her bed to face her fully, breath caught in his throat from how close she was. “This is my fault too” “Y/N-” “Listen to me” her stern tone surprised him. The story she had to finish telling him sat at the tip of her tongue and she decided to get it over with and rip it like a band-aid. Part of her was scared her theory was true and with it that Harry would also think it was her fault and hate her for something she didn’t know how to control anymore.

In short, the story was more of a theory, and Harry was glad when she started with that. She breezed through the details of how Jonathan was always more the type to solve issues with punches, but thankfully it never came to it much, since he had football to throw his problems in. As he played with his frames on his face, Harry found none of that hard to believe, from however long he’s known Jonathan there was no way all that anger came just because, and he figured it’d be a helpful thing for the sport to some level. Surprising even to himself, Harry found it in him to feel happy for the Jonathan y/n was talking about. He seemed aware and had some sort of coping mechanism that worked.

The whole ordeal wasn’t as bad but still his parents and y/n worried he would carry the anger from a game to outside the field, and she tried to stick around and help, even made sure his coach always talked to him as if they had small therapy sessions before any game, to keep him in check. Harry understood completely, settling more comfortably on her mattress in eagerness to hear the rest.

The same way they seemed to have a good relationship, until it wasn’t, Jonathan was coping great with his slight anger problem, until he wasn’t. College rolled around and his scores weren’t good, he scored a good deal that soon went away because of his and causing him to be ineligible for a sports team, and to top it all off, Jonathan closed off, saying he didn’t need anyone to talk to, he just wanted to play, but couldnt, and it wasn’t that y/n didn’t think he’d get any better or his grades could come up and he could try again, it was more so that Jonathan didn’t want to get any better or didn’t think there was anything wrong in the first place.

Before she knew it, it felt like they had both given up, like they were together because it was there, and not because they felt anything. Jonathan started doing things and acting certain ways that would only push her away. He’d never talk to her about his day, and he had started bullying random kids for random reasons whenever he was more irritable than the previous day, and no matter how hard y/n tried, Jonathan didn’t want anyone to battle this with, and that was obvious.

Harry was afraid to ask if he’d ever hurt y/n in any way, and she could see it in his eyes that he worried. “I was fine. It’s nothing like that” she whispered and Harry’s sigh of relief was plenty audible. “He just… It wasn’t Jonathan anymore…” Harry nodded, understanding that to her he’d become the exact opposite of what she once knew.

Y/n met Harry at around the same time her and Jonathan were at their worst. Harry was nice, he seemed smart and she could remember that Harry made her laugh the first day of chemistry class, saying it back to him, not knowing that Harry could never forget that the gorgeous girl that had randomly sat next to him was giving him her attention and he’d made her laugh the prettiest laugh he’d ever heard. He cleared his throat and nodded. “I remember” he added smoothly. “Yeah” she blushed slightly, clearing her throat as well. Harry didn’t know but y/n couldn’t forget that either, not because she thought anything of Harry in the same way he thought of her that first day, but because that one joke was the only good thing she experienced that day. Not long after, she found out that Harry was one of those random kids her boyfriend bullied, and something inside her bubbled over. It was the last straw. She liked Harry, and she could see them being friends, and so she confronted Jonathan about it.

It didn’t go well.

Harry confidently placed a hand on her hand, not knowing where the courage had poured in from, but riding it for as long as he could. Y/n look tired remembering every detail and playing it back like a movie for him to get a glance at. All he could do was remind her he was there, and that she could stop and take a second if she needed one. But alas, she pushed through, and there it came, her brilliant theory.

She had defended Harry, and every guy Jonathan bullied, but Harry specifically because it was a face she now knew. It was a face she wanted to see more of, and preferably not bruised. She was tired of her boyfriend’s antics, of him not wanting help or acting like nothing was out of place, and trying to justify all his horrible actions with excuses that were empty. She was exhausted, and that night she ended it. Jonathan was shocked, as if all the anger he carried didn’t let him see that he was doing something wrong. And as y/n walked away and he refused, all he could see was anger and a face. Harry’s. “I think that’s w-why…” “That’s why he said I ‘took you’ from him” “Yes and I feel so guilty. I feel like he’s doing this to you more than anyone else because of me”

Tears threatened to fall down y/n’s cheeks and Harry sighed, taking both her hands in his and facing her fully. He didn’t think this was her fault. In fact after knowing the full story he didn’t really care for someone to blame. Even if there was some truth to her theory, Harry could never blame her for anything that was happening. Jonathan needed an excuse, and it turned out to be Harry, but that only meant Jonathan needed the help he was refusing to get, he needed closure, and that was it. To Harry it didn’t mean y/n had done anything wrong. And so he told her.

Harry removed his glasses and focused on her, making her look him in the eye. Her cheeks were puffy and her eyes were sad, something Harry never wanted to see on her. He gave her a comforting smile. “None of this is your fault.” “But-” “Shh, it’s not. I know the whole story now and I don’t blame you for anything, okay?” he concluded, figuring she needed to hear those words come from him. She needed to hear she was innocent from his mouth, and maybe she could start to believe it. Her arms wrapped around Harry’s figure without a warning, and this time Harry hugged back after shrugging off the surprise. He rubbed comforting circles on her back and whispered “it’s okay” to her ear for as long as they kept each other close.

Harry didn’t know what he would do about Jonathan, but he didn’t care. He hoped that now that he knew he could find a way to slowly talk to him, or gently get him and y/n to speak, or whatever it took so that Jonathan could find the help he needed. He didn’t know what the next move was, but he decided that starting with y/n and their friendship came at number one for now. He decided there was no use in plotting some master plan or causing himself or y/n a headache with more of this talk that made her uncomfortable. He wanted everything to go back to its normal state, and with time, whenever the Jonathan bridge came, they’d cross it.

Pulling apart they smiled at each other. The electricity in the air hard for Harry to ignore, but he kept his distance, instead of following his tingling instinct and closing his mouth on hers, no matter how much he wanted to.

“So… chemistry?” he asked, finding the relation of how he felt chemistry with her in his head funny but dismissing it quickly, reaching over for his shirt and sliding it back on as y/n groaned. “Nooo please” she whined clutching a pillow to her chest “not yet.” “What do you mean not yet?” Harry chuckled at her childish behaviour.  “I wanted to ask you something” Harry’s head tilted as he slid his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, urging her to continue “tell me about your tattoos” “My tattoos?” she nodded excitedly “what about them?” “Well… I’ve been kinda wanting one… for a while” the smile on her face was shy and adorable, and Harry couldn’t really see her with any tattoos on her body, but the more he looked at her pointedly and the more she smiled as she poked his tattooed arm, the more he could see exactly what style of tattoo would go with her personality, regardless of how little he actually knew of her. She continued to trace the words inked on his skin over and over, enthralled by the art. 

“Do yeh, now…?” he arched an eyebrow sitting next to her once more. “What d’yeh want?” she shrugged. “Hmmm is that so. You wouldn’t happen to draw something a lot?” Harry placed his index finger on his chin, tapping it in fake thoughtfulness. “Ok fine, I sort of know…” y/n doodled a lot of things around her notebooks and Harry had noticed. Mostly hamsas, lotus flowers, suns and moons. Things of the sort. He laughed having caught her in her feeble lie. “I want a little moon on my forearm and a sun on the other, or maybe a lotus on my shoulder, I haven’t decided” “Well–” he stretched, pulling his arm out of her grip, stopping her from tracing anymore of his tattoos, the butterflies were getting too unbearable– “I’ve an appointment this weekend, yeh can come along if yeh want, see what it’s like” Y/n’s eyes lit up like a kid in christmas’s. “Really?!” Harry shrugged as if it was no biggie. “That’d be awesome! Thank you!” She gave him another hug and he chuckled. Before she could pull away he asked. “So. Chemistry?” And laughter exploded from his chest when her response was a deep long groan and a slap to his shoulder.

The weekend rolled around fast, and y/n was excited to see the tattoo parlor, but Harry was sure a lot of her commotion also came from having aced a chemistry lab practice the day before. She giggled with glee, as she tugged Harry’s arm when they turned the corner on their walk to the place, and she finally laid eyes on the parlor. His friend and ex roommate Nick Grimshaw was the artist he was going to see, and Harry knew that surely with a quick text he could arrange it so y/n watched the whole process and got to talk to an actual tattooist about what she envisioned without a previous date. Nick had agreed, not before teasing him if this was the same y/n Harry usually spoke very smitten about, and congratulating him for it with a cheeky grin Harry could read from the simple blue bubble of words in his text app.

“‘Arry!” Was the first thing Nick said when the man waltzed in with y/n close behind, eyes dancing around the place and the wonderful art plastered on the walls. Tattoos drawn on paper, waiting to be inked onto skin, and photos of happy clients posing with their latest work. She marveled at the idea of being on that wall, but she liked the simple thought of just having her own tattoo a lot more.

“Nicholas!” The two men hugged and swayed from side to side as two brothers that had gone long without seeing each other, even though Harry saw Nick pretty much monthly, whether at the parlor, the gym, or the bar he would rarely visit but Nick frequented. Nick proceeded to pinch his arm at the name. He hated being called Nicholas and Harry always did it, to push his buttons. Harry giggled, adjusting his glasses on his face, and y/n blushed. She didn’t know why she did, but she couldn’t help it after finding Harry’s little laugh cute. It was a strange feeling. Not necessarily bad, but strange nonetheless. She dismissed it.  “Hi. ‘M Nick.” “Y/N” she said, shaking the skinny man’s hand and looking at the sprinkle of tattoos that laced his arms. “What will I be doing for yeh lads today then” Nick hopped – literally hopped– behind the counter, pulling out a folder with Harry’s name and handing it to him. She peaked when he opened it. It was full of designs, some she’s seen on his body, some new. Harry noticed her intrigued but confused look.  “Nick compiles art he thinks I’ll like, fo’ when I come in without a clear idea” she nodded in silence, having decided to just watch and learn for the time being. “What can I say” Nick shrugged “I’m a good foocking friend” Harry rolled his eyes and sighed “Yeh wish.” He closed the folder and sighed, tapping his fingers on the folded paper. “Think it’s time fo’ the tiger” “Oooh” Nick clapped in excitement, leaving y/n completely lost. They obviously talked about this a lot, and Nick probably tattooed Harry all the time, so of course they had some sort of inside talk that y/n was not going to understand. Harry took a seat while Nick fished the design. It was a wonderful tiger, the details impeccable and of a decent size. Y/N was left to stare in shock, mouth agape, when she saw Harry rolling up the basketball shorts he’d donned for the day, immediately understanding why he wasn’t in his usual slacks or skinny jeans. He was clearly thinking about this tattoo for a while. Nick cleaned and prepared the area and after a short conversation about size, position and other details, the buzz of the tattoo gun and Harry’s faint, short hisses every once in a while, filled the silence of the empty parlor.

Somewhere around an hour and a half, Nick pulled back, examining his art. Harry’s eyes were red and his face showed a slight discomfort as y/n sat there, all she could do was stare. She had asked minor questions here and there, like if it was hurting Harry to which he said it wasn’t so bad, and things relating to herself getting a tattoo, like where should she start to avoid the most pain, how does the whole process work and so on. She even found herself staring at some of Nick’s tattoos, and when he noticed, he laughed. “If yeh’re looking at the ugly penguin there, ‘Arry did it, tha’s why it’s foocking gross” causing Harry to complain and smack Nick across the head, the parlor filling with their laughs “Watch it! Who’s got the gun ‘ere, huh?”

“Ok miss…” Nick started after taking a long sip from his water bottle and stretching from his hunched position. Harry let his shorts down, covering the wrapped thigh and moved from the chair. “Yer turn, I ‘spose?”

Harry fixed his glasses on his face, thinking maybe y/n might be scared of doing this today, on such short notice, and he was ready to give her his speech about how if she had even the smallest of, doubts she should leave it for another day, but was surprised when she pulled out her phone and turned to Nick, showing him what he could only assume was inspiration for what she wanted. “So that, but… maybe this style? And this size?” she murmured. Every time Harry tried to get a peak she’d move and Nick pushed him back jokingly. He got the drift. It was going to be a surprise for both of them, it seemed like. “Tha’s sick! Love the effect.” “Yeah? It’s so wonderful, right? Think you can do that?” Nick gasped, faking offense. “Harry why is she doubting me?–” He asked while giving y/n a playful glare and making them both laugh– “Lay on the chair doll, DaVinci will drop dead again when I’m done”

It was Harry’s turn to be shocked when y/n laid face down and removed her shirt. He tried his best to remain calm despite the obvious deep red shade his cheeks had taken. He swallowed back a grunt and gave Nick a death glare when the man, behind y/n’s back, insinuated at Harry with a look that screamed ‘hot damn, look at that’ to him.

This was a bad idea. Y/N was getting her back tattooed and Harry didn’t dare to look. Both because she obviously wanted to surprise herself and him with the final result, and also because he didn’t think he could stand there in the tingling pain from his own freshly inked tattoo, looking at her bare back – bra straps open and down her shoulder – for long without collapsing or needing a cold shower. It was all he could do to stifle in a moan or keep from imagining her, face down on his bed as he sank himself…

That was enough.

He turned around, fidgeting with his glasses on his face to keep his hands busy.

Harry always knew Nick was good. Great even. The work he did on y/n was amazing and she kept giggling over it as she arched her neck to try and get a better glimpse. “Oh my god” she kept repeating in whispers “I am in love with it” she hopped up and down in excitement making Nick smile proudly. It was some of his best work yet. The tattoo wasn’t in itself complicated, with much detail, or of a big enough size to take hours and hours of work, but it was the simple fading and style of it what made it so unique and hard to master. He took pride in his good work, mentally patting himself on the back. “Make sure t’take care of it. Harry can help yeh. ‘S a hard spot to reach” he murmured, slyly winking in Harry’s direction who just took to rolling his eyes at his friend.

Y/n and Harry were almost out the door after smiles and goodbyes, tips for tending a tattoo, and more praise over Nick’s work when y/n snapped out of her seemingly post tattoo haze, stopping dead in her tracks. “I have to pay! Oh my god” she exploded in a fit of laughter, turning around to Nick to ask how much she owed. “No no. No need” He assured her as Harry fidgeted behind her figure. “What? No way. Let me pay, you can’t give me this for free” “Oh, ‘s alright darling” he winked at her, pushing her out of the parlor, not before nodding his head in Harry’s direction and giving her a small wink, whispering “It’s all covered” before sending her off.

Y/n whined Harry’s ear off the whole way back, and even when he sneaked into her room past the allowed hours – not without getting flustered over it before – she continued to do so no matter how many times he’d promised her it was okay. “Let me pay you back” “No, it’s fine” he chuckled, sitting on her bed and letting out a sigh. The area of his tattoo was still covered and just slightly itchy. Y/N dismissed him, turning to look at her new tattoo in the mirror and silently plotting ways to pay him back some day when he least expected it. She wouldn’t let that nice gesture pass, and he was already doing entirely too much.

Harry decided to play a little game he’d played with her before and quiz her on her test she had the day prior and all the other knowledge he’d been helping her with, in a way to keep her memory fresh with the concepts. Y/N groaned at first, not wanting to study on a saturday at all but complied, and so the tossing of a random plastic toy she kept in her room began. Harry would ask, the throw getting more difficult as the questions got tougher, and they walked around her room to keep her on her toes and active. “And that is?” “Thermochemistry” “Who’s the father of it” “Uh, trick question?” “Hmmm, wrong y/n.” “Hess? Laplace? Both?” Harry shrugged “Come on!” “Fine, trick question. It had like 6 fathers. Now-” He motioned at her to toss him the little toy before she interrupted. “Fuck off, Harry” She exploded in a fit of laughter, which he joined in soon after, falling back on her small couch, throwing it back at a distracted Harry with a bit of force given her laid back position. “Ow!” Harry bit back when the somewhat sharp and hard edge of it smacked him in the side of the jaw. “Oh, fuck! Sorry!”

The hard toy had left a red spot on his jaw, right at the side from his chin, surely to cause a little bump in the future and its sharp edge drew the tiniest bit of blood that he caught on his fingertips when he touched the skin. Y/N immediately piped up, rushing to him, apology after apology slipping through her lips.

It seemed like lately y/n had turned into his at home doctor, as she had tended for his bruises and cuts more than anyone ever, in just the past week. Harry found himself sat on the edge of her bed, once more being taken care of by her delicate fingers, chin pulled up and jutted out, as her other hand kept his head in place. She continued to apologise even though he’d repeatedly said it was all okay, quickly falling silent after she assumed a knelt position right in front of him, practically straddling him as her legs perched on either side of his one recently tattooed thigh. “How’s it look?” he asked timidly. “Well…–“ she sighed dramatically– “You have a magnet for injuries, Harry, but-” he laughed at her statement, a deep, small laugh, brain too fuzzy over the fact that she was this close. Again y/n blushed when he did so. She had found it that she liked it when Harry smiled or laughed. It could be either cute and giggly which made her very giggly back, or it could be a very deep, very manly chuckle that had her feeling something she couldn’t quite place but had come to like, quite a lot. Whatever it was, she wanted more of it. Whatever it was she wanted more of Harry’s smiling face in her life.

In the time she’s known Harry she had to admit she wanted to poke his dimples whenever they came up, and now her hands were so close she couldn’t stop herself from reaching up and placing her finger on the small dip. Harry was surprised, back immediately tensing at her action. Their eyes met; him looking down from his upturned chin and her looking up to catch his curious eyes, giving him a smile Harry couldn’t return. Behind him, his arms extended towards the sheets, he took them by the fistfuls to try and keep some grasp of the real world. God, she didn’t know, he thought to himself, she didn’t know just how fast his heart was running, where the blood was rushing, where his mind was wandering.

Y/n was confused. She never wanted more of Harry than what he was already giving to her. Granted that was a lot, for he was always there and so helpful, but she thought it was what he allowed, and now she was tingling for just a little more. She was itching for the closeness, and she didn’t know why or when it started. Her fingers had gone from just poking his dimple to fully cradling his cheek, both their faces levelling to look at each other from a better angle, time slowly pulling back. Harry’s breath hitched. “It looks good” she whispered, careful that her nose didn’t crash against the tip of his, as his eyes glistened with something she couldn’t decipher. “I–” Harry swallowed. She was talking about his small injury but he’d be lucky if he remembered his own name at this point. He wanted to push just the slightest bit, to reach forward and end the weight that had taken over his chest. What was she doing? What was this? His brain ran a million thoughts at the same time and he couldn’t focus on a single one. And then she made them all stop in the most electrifying of ways.

Her knees started to give out as she relaxed into the feeling of being so close to Harry and whatever it had settled on the pit of her stomach. It wasn’t butterflies, but they tingled just the same. She was buzzing. It was close to that feeling when she was overheating with desire, but she refused to call it that. There was no way she felt that way for Harry. There was no way she felt any way for Harry. Right?

Harry was already having a hard time after his tattoo – the buzz that he always got from the slight pain doubling thanks to the fact she had also gotten a tattoo with him and she was now like this on him – and in his mind it wasn’t fair that she could make him feel like this so easily. It wasn’t fair that she had him at the palm of her hand. He was already about to give out, every emotion overflooding inside him. The courage he had for a lot of things was gone for this one, until he couldn’t hold anything anymore.

Her weight came down on him just the smallest of fractions. On his inked thigh, where he was most sensitive right now besides between his legs. His eyes closed shut as he swallowed back a hiss and his hands jolted. Y/n didn’t understand what was happening, she just stared at his face, contorting in something that resembled pain, but he hadn’t cried out for anything. She sank just the tiniest bit lower, putting more pressure on him, making his imagination run wild and he just couldn’t keep it to himself. Harry audibly gasped, the shadow of a moan caught in the back of his throat as his hands jumped to hold the sides of y/n’s waist. He pushed in, just holding her in place, as if trying to make her stop sinking onto him any longer, despite his deep urge to dip her down to ride his thigh. Stop Harry, stop, he kept trying to make himself recover his sanity, but y/n, sweet, gorgeous and forever torturing y/n, either was so lost her naiveness just sank her further, or she knew exactly what she was doing.

Harry figured it was a mix of both as she whispered his name and sat lower on his thigh and her fingers grabbed the back of his neck as he let out a longer moan, head rolling back lightly. “F-fuck” he whispered at the sensation of her moving slightly forward, sliding up his leg. His hips rolled forwards as well, making her bite her lip and shut her eyes closed. Harry felt his rational mind slowly slip away, the same way the whispery words slipped without permission out of his shaky mouth “G-god, please, just let me fuck yeh” his fingers digging into her skin, pulling her down onto him.

Y/N jolted at the feeling, as if suddenly awake, placing her hands on his shoulders and looking at him with widened eyes. Harry did the same, shock and embarrassment running through his features before they were painted over red. Y/n sat up on her knees once more, pulling away from his thigh and his hands let go of her frame, immediately slapping against his babbling mouth. “I- I’m-” “Harry…” she whispers. His hands drop back to her waist, only to pry her off his body and onto her mattress as Harry makes it his task to pick up all his things in a hurry. He has to leave, he has to run out of there and never come back, he’s ruined it all. “I shouldn’t h-have- I didn’t- F-fuck. I m-mean- I’m sorry- God- fuck” He’s cursing under his breath, ruffling his hair in nervousness, his glasses in his hands and he can’t stop wiping at them in embarrassment.  “Harry, listen” she tries to get him to stop but he’s stuck like a broken record. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I am so terribly sorry” he continues to say, face red and chest heaving up and down, anxiety filled tears ready to run down his cheeks. It’s suddenly impossible for him to catch a breath. 

Y/N is up on her feet, nervous and red as well – she can’t believe what just happened– but before she can reach forth and grab his arm to try and calm him down, he’s bolting out of her room and she’s ripped of the chance to explain herself. 

She’s left alone in her room, confused and upset. Her door slowly shutting close as she lets her body flop on her bed, a hand touching her hot cheek, the other sprawled on her chest feeling her rushing heartbeat, soon making it’s way down her body where she can feel her arousal that was cut short, cupping her womanhood over her clothes in frustration.

She was ripped of the chance to tell him that the only thing that jolted her out of the trance wasn’t the tingly feeling his warm hands gave her over the fabric of her clothes, or the heat pooling between her legs, or her own hitched breath. What snapped her out of it were her own surprising thoughts that she wanted more and more and more.

And now she fears she’s not going to get it. 

THAT’S THE TAT BUT ON HER BACK? LIKE UP LIKE CLOSE TO HER RIGHT SHOULDER BLADE?

Thanks for reading! FEEDBACK IS GREATLY APPRECIATED PLEASE!!! I want to know what you think of this AND ALSO INPUT YOUR THOUGHTS ON WHAT PART FOUR CAN BRING AFALKSJDFHASLJFHD

I can’t leave y’all with Harry never getting sex so there WILL be a part four whahaha. Anyways, do let me know what should happen next what you thought etc etc! please! I Beg!

Smooches Iv. XO.

Although, when he thought about it, now that he had finished working at the tech place he had been working as a paid intern at, he didn’t have to wear the mandatory vests, so everyone would see his tattoos full on display when he went back to class later in the afternoon not in his classic button up. His contract ended and he didn’t want to continue working there. Instead he applied to go back to his first part time job at the bakery down the road. He figured he had saved up enough money working at a boring tech firm long enough, so he just waited until his contract was up and packed up his things. He was grateful for the experience and all the things he’d learned but he was about ready to go to a much more fun job that would still give him enough cash to get through campus living. It all worked perfectly with his changed schedule, plus he enjoyed the smell of freshly baked goods any time of the day.

He rushed to the showers right after his routine was over. He stretched in the boxing area, still cautious that y/n wouldn’t spot him, and ran to get clean and changed into some comfortable post-workout attire. Pushing his glasses up his nose he took a big breath before walking as fast as he could without looking like a lunatic, over to the staircase that led to the exit of the gym. He kept his gaze down. Maybe if I don’t look up she won’t see me, he kept thinking to himself in a clearly dumb logic. It’s not that he didn’t want to see her – God, all he wanted to do was see her, no matter when. And talk to her – but it was the latter he could never do when she was in front of him, so he would rather avoid running into her all together so that he’d never end up looking like a nitwit in front of her again.

It’s obvious that if you’re not looking at something other than your feet as you walk, you are bound to crash into something, anything, at some point. Which is exactly what happened to Harry. He felt his body collide with another body and with his luck, before his brain could figure out the shapes and colours, he already knew he had crashed straight into y/n, and since they were at the very top of the stairs, the blow had sent her almost tumbling over. His reflexes kicked in and his hands reached out as he pulled her to him, keeping her from barrelling down the flight of steps.

With wide eyes and at this proximity Harry noticed the light in her eyes, and the redness to her cheeks that was extremely adorable and making him blush and stumble over his words.

“I-I… M’ so sorry!” she smiled at him one of her signature sweet smiles and for a second Harry wondered why he needed cardio after all.

“It’s ok! Hi Harry! I didn’t see you here, came for a workout?” Inside her mind she was slapping herself, because what else could someone go to the gym for? She didn’t know why but Harry made her a bit clumsy. She liked his company; the sudden inexplicable nerves that came with it? Not so much.

“Uh y-yeah. I umm… I took b-boxing back up…”

It was funny to watch. How they both seemed to be at a loss for words, how they both looked a lot more flustered than someone who’d just finished a workout routine. How Harry still had his arm around her and held her very close to his frame. Although this one he noticed and he immediately let go of her, careful not to push her back too harshly, as he cleared his throat.

“Would you like to grab breakfast with me?” she asked suddenly and Harry didn’t know what to answer. So he did what he knew how to do best: fix his glasses incessantly. It was a nervous tick. He’d remove them and wipe them and fidget them back on, tap at them, then push and pull and push and pull as his brain wracked for something to say, or rather tried to remember how to tell the mouth the correct positions to go to so that he could form words.

“I just… I uh… I have c-class…” it wasn’t a lie. He did have class… In four hours. But y/n didn’t know that and all she could do was nod as she made him promise that next time he’d grab a bite to eat with her after the gym, to which Harry had to say yes – not that he wasn’t dying to – and continued playing with his glasses during.

Deep down Harry knew he would never be able to grab a casual bite with the girl that flooded his dreams, the girl that made him reconsider running the treadmill – beyond everything, the conversation had left him breathless and with a heartbeat he could worriedly call a doctor about – the girl that made his chest and pants tight at just the glance of her hips in the fitting activewear she donned for the day. But it was nice to imagine. It was nice to wonder. To think that he could be the confident guy who asks her instead, and takes her out and keeps a nice conversation flowing, enough so he can charm her in some way that she’d want to hang out with him more and more.

It was nice to imagine.

And he didn’t need to imagine it much because he found himself being silently beckoned over by a whispering y/n that same night at the library.

“Hey” she spoke in hushed tones as he sat down in front of her with shaky hands and taking a deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. Harry let out a tiny “hi” in response and forced his eyes to focus on the textbooks in front of him. Y/N understood, after all she was here to study as well.

It was hard not to notice her struggle silently after a while. She kept sighing and every time she erased something she did it a bit more furiously than the last. It was difficult for Harry not to take a peek at her exercises from over the rim of his glasses. With a small grin he figured out the answer to the question with ease in his mind, and leaned his hand over to her notes, circling down the correct option as she looked at him amused and confused.

“It’s Thermochemistry…” he whispered leaning back to pay attention to his notes.

“What?” was all she asked and Harry lifted his book so she could see the front. Of course he was taking Chemistry IV when she was on her second time taking Chem 101 and on her way to fail it again. “How?” she asked to which he just shrugged. Chemistry was his thing. He liked it. In fact he was taking it as extra credits, quite literally just for fun.

“I like it” Harry said taking a quick glance at the clock and noticing it was about time to go. The library was closing soon and y/n also got the hint, hurriedly picking up after herself while staring at Harry. To y/n, any one that liked or could deal with chemistry was a study case. It was her worst subject all through high school, and all the time she lost pulling at her roots to learn it made her eventually hate the matter, so she couldn’t understand how someone could get any of it, let alone also like it to the point of needing or wanting to take the subject 4 times, each with more complex topics than the last. In that moment, Harry seemed like an alien of some sort – specially cause his green eyes never cease to look extremely green – but he also looked like an angel. A blessing.

Harry found himself agreeing to y/n’s claims for the second time that day. Whatever she said – no matter how hard it made it for him to breathe and how much anxiety the thought of her caused him – he found himself nodding to. In his nervous tick he started messing with his glasses when she asked him the craziest thing ever.

“T-tutor… you? Me? I mean…” Her eyes were shining as they walked side by side down the field and in the direction of her building. She nodded excitedly, quietly begging for him to agree. When you put it in perspective it was logical. If you are failing a subject and know someone that could help, why not ask them to help? But even in his smart brain, the situation sounded so insane and out of this world. Him? Tutor her? His palms were already sweaty and his mind felt like it was starting to forget the most basic of the elements in the periodic table. Was it Helium, Lithium, Beryllium? Where was Oxygen again? Still, he was saying yes and agreeing on a time and a place before he knew it. 

Biology wasn’t his best subject, but he believed there had to be some substance she expelled out of her body to make him agree to whatever she asked for so easily.

“Not bad” Harry hummed, reading over one of the exercises he’d asked y/n to do, pushing his hair out of his face and sliding his glasses up his nose as he scribbled on the sides of the paper. Compared to how little he had explained so far and how much she seemed to be struggling, the sheet had more correct answers than he thought he would achieve on the second day of tutoring her.

Y/N was sat at his desk in his dorm room and Harry’s sweaty palms had calmed down a lot since she arrived an hour before. The whole idea of tutoring her was still crazy to him, specially when in the back of his mind he knew that before she was set to arrive, he had taken a nap and dreamt, once more, of her riding his thigh and moaning his name in his ear, and Harry just had to jerk himself off quickly before the real y/n showed up at his door. It was hard to look at her smiling face whenever she understood a concept, and not picture how much he would like to have her spread on his mattress under his body, or wonder how accurate her real life moans were compared to the ones his subconscious made in his imagination, but Harry was making his best efforts to continue focused despite the looming memory of that one dream.

“Awesome!” she chirped back, reading Harry’s notes on the sides of her exercises and putting them in her backpack to revise later. Letting out a sigh she picks up the rest of her materials and books. “I’m spent, and hungry” y/n groans and Harry can’t help but chuckle. Thankfully the past study sessions had also served him to not be so stuttery and shy around her, allowing him to get somewhat comfortable when it came to talking to her.

To him it seemed like a miracle that he’d ever be able to be fairly casual around y/n, but he was handling it so well he even surprised himself – and y/n a little – when he let out a “Let’s go grab something to eat then” after she’d stretched and gotten up from her seated position with a smile after Harry’s statement.

That’s how, 15 minutes later, y/n finds herself sat in a booth at a burger joint in front of a Harry that she’d started getting to know slowly. Deep down she was also thankful that she seemed to be getting along with Harry smoothly, knowing how strangely nervous she would get around him. A few weeks back she was completely convinced that Harry never saw her as a friend, considering how he basically avoided talking to her, but she’s glad to see him speaking freely and see herself laughing along with the curly lad as they joke over what’s left of her serving of fries. And y/n didn’t know it then, but Harry felt the same way.

“You know…” she starts, intrigued and amused by how quickly they had grown more comfortable around each other “I always thought you didn’t like me” Y/N’s cheeks are flushed red under Harry’s strong gaze through his frames.

“What? Why?” Harry wonders out loud, fixing his glasses around. How could she think he didn’t like her? Quite contrary, he was shocked she didn’t already know he died inside every time he caught a glimpse of her smiling his way. Y/N shrugs.

“I don’t know, we never really talked much” “I did like yeh. I do.” the words come out of his mouth before he can stop them, and so Harry’s left scrambling to make sure his actual feelings aren’t exposed on the booth’s table. “I mean, you uh… You j-just looked nice and... and I never really knew w-what to say to you, s-so I… I don’t know I k-kept my distance?” luckily y/n nods, understanding what he meant.

“You know what you could have talked to me about?” “What?” “Chemistry 101. We had it together! Maybe I wouldn’t be taking it for the second time if you had spoken to me back then” she jokes, mocking anger and pointing at him accusingly, making Harry throw his head back in laughter. “Oh god. Yeah, maybe” he says, shrugging after taking a deep breath and sip from his soda “but I didn’t want you to hold me back” he smirks, biting back at her joke making her gasp in shock. “Harry!” and they both continue to poke fun at each other and fill the small restaurant with loud laughs that could easily get them kicked out if it wasn’t for the fact that the place was almost empty.

The laughs they share and details they discover about each other, keeps both Harry and y/n busy enough not to see the seething stares of one young bully from across the street. Jonathan’s fists tighten at the sight, almost drawing blood, and if his personal vendetta with Harry wasn’t already personal enough, this had just made it.

Walking to and from his dorm to class was about a level 4 out of 10 of a dangerous situation for Harry. He tried to do it early, or when a lot of people were around so he could blend in and escape Jonathan whenever he could.

And in hindsight, Harry wonders if he’d been more alert and less occupied on what he would teach y/n later that afternoon – and how cute she’ll look once again – maybe he would have noticed that, this time around, Jonathan had a hawk-like vision driven by rage and hunger for his target, him. Maybe he would have noticed that today Jonathan seemed a lot more angry than any other time he’d faced the broad shoulders of what many would call his nemesis. Maybe he would have been more prepared to receive the punch that left him blank for 10 seconds.

Harry couldn’t pinpoint it at the moment, but every kick and shove, came with a venomous tongue, like Jonathan had wanted to inflict so much more damage than ever before. Harry’s ears rang as he felt another blow to his head, and he stumbled back, books long forgotten and glasses surely broken at his side. Was this what getting the shit beat out of you was? Was this his death? He wondered, but thankfully a passerby turned out to be a friend, that rushed to his aid, and through a blurry view, he made the outline of a man that helped him back to his dorm.

Y/N almost about screamed at the sight.

“Oh my god!” she said letting her books drop to the ground and entering Harry’s room, grabbing his face in her hands and inspecting all the bruises. A purple eye, scrapes and scratches along his cheeks, a busted lip and dried blood all around his features. “What the fuck?!”

Harry winced stepping back from her and letting his body down on his mattress. He waved his hand at her, dismissing the issue like it was no big deal, saying it looked worse than it felt, which didn’t ease y/n’s mind in the least, as she dropped to her knees in front of Harry and took a closer look.

“Harry…” “‘M fine, S’just a purple eye and a scrape ‘ere and there” “This is not just a-” “I’m fine” he says taking a hold of her hand and giving her a comforting smile that does anything but comfort her, but she drops it for the time being, looking to his bedside table, where his spare glasses sat untouched next to the broken ones, and handing him back the bag of ice he apparently had pressed to his face before she arrived. Harry insisted on continuing his chemistry tutoring, claiming that if his memory didn’t fail him, her teacher was one for surprise quizzes.

“Harry…” y/n mumbled, poking at his side. He kept swaying and dozing off on her and her worry levels were at about 15 out of 10. “Hm” he groans, shaking his head as if coming back to life. “Harry, please, I’m worried” “S’ nothing. Jus’ a headache… feeling a bit woozy” “What if you have a concussion?” she presses on, biting her lip in fear. Harry needed a doctor ASAP and he was being so stubborn not letting her take him to one. Harry scoffed at her remark. “Christ, y/n, I don’t ‘ave a concussion” but his words were slurred and slower than usual, and the look on her face tugged at Harry’s heartstrings. She was fidgety and scared. He sighed “Fine… if it makes yeh feel any better, we’ll go to the emergency room” “Please!” y/n was on her feet and gathering her belongings in a flash, as Harry swayed to and fro, holding on to his throbbing head and taking slow steps towards her. Y/N tried her best to help the tall man leaning against her small frame on the way to her car, and in a rush towards a doctor before any of the very dark and horrible scenarios in her head could seep in.

Harry’s eye looked better and his wounds had been cleaned properly in a matter of minutes, by a nice nurse that kept reassuring y/n that her ‘boyfriend’ would be fine and she should stop worrying, but she couldn’t as she saw Harry, dead silent on a hospital bed and she sat by his side.

“No concussion miss, we’ve cleaned his wounds and gave him some medication for the pain, he might be a little dizzy and sleepy for a while. I’d recommend he sleeps it off” a doctor had told her with a soothing voice which relieved her greatly – at least the doctor had a voice that could calm her down, and the news she brought eased y/n visibly –

“Hmmm” Harry groaned, not bothering to open his eyes any wider than little slits, when y/n tried to get him back on his feet and towards her car after everything had been cleared up. Y/N took a deep breath in and out, trying her best not to worry anymore. He was fine. Nothing too bad had happened, and now he needed to rest. “C’mon you need to sleep” she gave him a soft smile as she helped him back into his dorm room and on the way to his bed and he groaned. “What time is it?” he whispered letting his body fall on the mattress. The headache was a lot less poignant and they had applied some ointment or whatever, on his eye that would help it miraculously heal faster. “Around 3:30, why?” “Ugh–” he grumbled – ”Have… a class soon”

Y/n’s hands pushed back at Harry’s chest immediately sensing that he’d want to get up and get on his way to a class that he clearly wasn’t in good enough state to attend to. “Jesus, no, Harry.” “I 'afta...” “You can’t attend a class this way. You need to sleep, and that’s final” she added with a stern voice anticipating his interruption. Harry let himself be tucked in by y/n’s delicate hands. “Can’t miss it… Exam soon” his words were cut short, his body ready to shut down, drunk with numbing drugs that he could no longer fight against. “I… I’ll go take notes for you, okay? But you need to sleep” “I have a… complicated note system” “Of course you do” y/n giggles. “I’ll try my best”

Any other moment Harry would refute, but just this one time he nodded to her words and allowed his eyes to close for a second, his bed had something like a magnetic pull suddenly, felt comfier than ever to his bruised body. “Just record it, yeah?” “I got it, no problem. Do call me if you need me, anything, I’ll be back after my class at 5, yeah?” and like a child being taken care of his mother when he was sick, Harry hummed an agreement and felt y/n’s lips drop a small kiss on his forehead. “Take… key” he says however he can, pointing to his keychain by the door so y/n can let herself back in afterwards, in case he was still knocked out from the medication, before settling into his covers with a groan of pain. And with that y/n left to try and make sense of a sociology class and Harry’s complex yet precise note taking system.

Even in a drug heavy nap, Harry can make the outline of y/n’s bare body in his dream, and it’s around two hours later when he wakes up alert, and much more relieved, that he decides he needs a cold shower for two reasons before y/n came back.

He takes a moment in his shower to think about how his life seems to be a dream itself. He still has a hard time accepting the fact that he’s been talking and hanging out with y/n more and more the last few days, and that he can now laugh and joke around her. His heart still beats the same erratic way and his blood rushes in his veins like it used to, and she still haunts his dreams most of the time, waking him up in a sweat and with an itch to press her down on his body, but now he gets to have the real y/n a lot closer than he used to and it’s messing with his head in ways he doesn’t know how to deal with yet.

He’s just stepping out of the shower and into his room, clad in a towel wrapped around his hips and with the cold air nipping at his shoulders, where droplets of water fall from the curly tips of his hair, when the door to his dorm is closed shut after y/n allows herself in. She’s confused at the sight of Harry’s bed being empty only to turn around and crash with his wet naked torso.

“Oh god!” she’s quick to jump back, mimicking his steps in the opposite direction. Cheeks tainted a deep red the same as his. She only gets a quick glance of his body that assures her he is in fact nude, before covering her eyes from the view of Harry with just a loosely tightened towel around his most important parts. “Sorry! Sorry, oh god!”

Y/N was frozen in her spot and so was Harry. He stuttered and scrambled his way around his room to get dressed, holding y/n by her shoulders to move her out of the way of his drawers, as she did her best to keep her eyes away from the image of harry’s tatted nakedness.

When it was clear to look, Harry let her know with a lump in his throat from how awkward the whole interaction was, and y/n made sure to peek through the cracks in her fingers to test the waters, spotting Harry fully clothed, she sighed and proceeded to apologise some more. “I’m s-sorry, I… I should have knocked, I just, god” “I-it’s ok. Uh, yeah…” his fingers came up to fidget his glasses around and scratch at the back of his neck in embarrassment. He tried to focus on the fact that the situation was uncomfortable, and not think of how in his dreams a situation like that would have a very different outcome.

Dropping his notebook on his desk, y/n told him all she remembered of his class, the notes she’d taken were messy but Harry was surprised and touched that she’d tried her best at copying his note-taking style. She had done it with pencil – so in case she made any mistakes, Harry could arrange them later on – and the scribbles on the edges had multiple arrows pointed to different notes and asterisks. He chuckled at the small ‘sorry!’ she had written at the end of the notes, probably when the class had ended. “Thank you, y/n, really.” “No problem, It’s so messy, but hopefully you can understand” she smiled at him, sitting herself at the edge of his bed. “It’s great, it really is. Yeh didn’t have to” he says with his dimples showing and cheeks blushing, sitting down next to her. “Which reminds me…” he says reaching back and pulling out a notebook that seems to be filled front to back “Right ‘ere… ’S my Chem 101 notebook. Figured it’d help yeh a bit t’have it” he hands her the book that is in perfect condition considering it’s been a year and a half since he last touched it or the book has seen the light. “Oh my! Thank you!” y/n’s smile is big and making Harry’s heart do a lot more flips than he thought was humanly possible or healthy.

Y/N couldn’t help but stare at his bruises, happy he seemed to be much more awake and no longer in as much pain, but still sour that he’d even had to go through it in the first place. Harry notices how she grows silent and places his hand on her shoulder trying to comfort her. “Hey, stop… I’m okay” “I feel so bad…” “Don’t… You’ve done nothing wrong and you’ve nothing t’worry about” he says giving her a comforting smile trying to cheer her up, but he’s immediately caught of guard by the shine in her eyes that looks like tears. Y/N surprises him by wrapping her arms around him, causing them to lay down on his mattress in a cuddle. Harry’s heart is beating rapidly, his palms sweaty, and his eyes open wide in shock as y/n lets out soft sighs and sobs on his chest. He rubs loving circles on her back, confused as to why this is making her so upset. “Hey…” he whispers in her ear, pulling her close to his frame “Don’t cry. ’S okay” “I’m so sorry Harry.” “Y/n, it’s not your fault, please…” he stresses, but she shakes her head and looks up at him through tears, placing a hand on his cheek. Her eyes are glossy and her sad expression makes Harry’s heart ache for her, he wants her to smile, always, no matter how taken aback he is when she says her next words. “It is, Harry. It is my fault…”

Thanks for reading! I’m working on part three so that it can be posted in a few days, a week tops. FEEDBACK IS GREATLY APPRECIATED PLEASE!!! I want to know what you think of this and why you think y/n swears it’s her fault? hmmm. Part three will be the last one of this little Marcel story but there are more Marcel ideas in my drafts and I’d love to write more about this specific Marcel if you’d like me to :)

Smooches Iv. XO.

Or maybe his first thought would be about the beating he’d received the day prior. Maybe not a proper beating, for his muscles don’t ache as much, and his glasses are still intact. On those mornings he’d sigh, he just couldn’t believe physical bullying happened at college in the 21st century, but it did, and it happened to him. Of course. With the kind of luck he’s had all his life. Broken bones, allergies, the glasses, acne. You name it. Harry has probably had it worse. Specially being called Marcel everywhere he went. He didn't dislike his middle name, but people had certainly made him loathe it, when they spit along with it or give him a push.

It’s not that Harry can’t defend himself. It’s that he’d rather not play their game… And he hasn’t been boxing in forever so, that’s another thing.

Those are the typical Harry mornings, but today was none of those. Today was one of the other mornings. Harry flips over on his bed and hisses, it’s impossible to ignore this time. He lifts up the covers from his body and stares down his naked torso to the only piece of clothing on him. It’s one of those mornings. He sighs letting his head fall back, hand rushing down to palm himself through the thin material of his boxers. He’s hard, and his heart is pounding. This isn’t a normal morning wood, this is him waking up horny and he know’s he’ll quite possibly, and irritatingly, stay horny all day. He remembers just bits and pieces of his dream but he knows just why he’s woken up like this.

Y/N.

He’s dreamt about her again. In compromising positions, with compromising sounds leaving her lips, and compromising juices leaving his member. He rolls his eyes but lets his hand slide down his boxers anyways. He’s gripping at himself and thumbing his tip before he can even properly take a breath. He’s sensitive, red and swollen, ready to burst. It won’t take him long to stain his sheets, specially when the image of her is still on his mind. The way she swayed her hips deliciously on top of him, and how she kissed him all around, leaving marks around his neck. Even though it’s all an image, he can almost hear it come to life. The thing about Harry, he’s always had a livid imagination.

He squeezes and moves his hand searching for his release. There was no way he was going to go to math like this, and a cold shower was not in his plans. He’d rather be just a tiny bit late to class than withdraw himself from the sweet…

He feels himself drip down his hand. There he thinks. Getting rid of these kinds of things was easy when he had just woken up and was still picturing y/n moaning.

He knew it. He so knew it. Today was a horny day. He’d only just arrived to campus and was already thanking the heavens he’d chosen not so skinny pants today, maybe his friend down there could be hidden perfectly. All he needed was to go to class and maybe keep his book bag on his lap at all times. All he needed was to get there. “Marcel!” someone called from behind him. Harry sighed and shut his eyes tightly. Fuck not again. He wasn’t in the mood. Deciding to continue on his walk as if he’d heard nothing.”Hey, come back here” and then he was stopped. Well, Harry decided he needed to run more often, these bullies where getting insanely fast at catching up to their prey, a.k.a him. He was forcefully flipped around to come face to face with none other than Jonathan. Jonathan Park. Just cause he had money, apparently he could push around other people and give them a hard time when they peacefully walked around campus… And by they we mean Harry. Jonathan thankfully wasted no time in tumbling the couple notebooks Harry was carrying to the ground, and then proceeded to shove him so he would be down there along with his multiple notes. Harry decided to stay quiet. Previous times had lead him to learn not saying a word was better than whining.

The encounter was quick. With Jonathan belittling Harry calling him Marcel with his nerdy voice, and putting in a British accent in there, one that made Harry wince more than the fact he’d hit the ground harshly. Did he really sound like that? Like he’d gobbled 3 nuts and was having trouble breathing. He waited until Jonathan was out of view, until he was ‘safe’ if he could even consider this safe. Harry rolled his eyes, picking himself up and gathering his notebooks. He removes his glasses from his face and gives them a quick clean with his vest. Shaking his head and throwing his curls to the back he puts them on once more, half ready for whatever was to come. With the added pain in his crotch, he knew this was going to be a long day.

Two. He’d wanked two times today. One in the morning, one after class when he stopped by his room for a brief shower before going to the library to study. Two, and it was soon going to be three. He just repeated the image of her fucking him so good, and whispering the dirtiest fucking lines. It sent shivers down his spine just thinking about it and his second orgasm of the day had him stuttering and shaking in pleasure. He’s got to admit: he showered twice, just to clean up the mess he’d made of himself in the shower. He silently slammed his head against the table, careful not to make much of a ruckus so that Mrs.Lang, the librarian didn’t kick him out. Not that he thinks she ever would… Mrs.Lang loves Harry. If she kicked him out, who would keep her company when the library is empty, and talk about HP Lovecraft with her, and who’d bake her peanut butter + white chocolate chip cookies once a month, and an extra batch on her birthday?

But all that considered, Harry was an educated lad, he wasn’t about to make a lot of noise while he groaned and suffered through a stiffy, and risk bothering the other students around him. Which talking about. His cock felt like it throbbed a bit more every time he looked up beyond his books, pushing up his glasses slightly.

Y/N was there. In all her delicious glory and certainly making him ache a lot more. It wasn’t fair, he groaned under his breath, it wasn’t fair that she was there, so close and so far, it wasn’t fair that he’d never touched her, but he can dream about ghosting his lips over her center, running his fingers through her hair. It wasn’t fair that she just sat there, doing nothing and that it caused him to ache for her this badly. It wasn’t fair that they have probably only spoken for a total of 30 minutes since he’s known her, and she clouds his mind like this.

Well she isn’t always on his mind, but when she is, there’s no way he can do much else.

Harry sighs continuing to read through his notes and highlighting this or that. He couldn’t concentrate much but it was something. Besides he was ready for this test. It took him just a few more minutes to finish going through his notes one last time and then he decided it was time to pick up and leave.

The library was a little bit of a safe haven for him, only people that wanted to study, or couples that wanted to snog quietly and have a bit of the thrill of being found, ever came by. Meaning no bullies, no name calling, nothing. Just some peace and quiet for once in his life. So you might understand the mix of anger, shock and fear that appeared on Harry’s face when Jonathan walked in. Fuck fuck fuck. It was the cowardly thing to do, but he ran to hide in the aisles of stacked books upon stacked books. He wasn’t going to get out of this without a purple eye, specially after he’d made the whole classroom laugh at Jonathan when he answered correctly in biology with something that was a direct jab at his ego. “It’s how the female reproductive system works… You wouldn’t know about that…”  At the moment even Harry was shocked, not knowing where the line had come from, but it gave him some power. Specially since Jonathan was called by the teacher after class which meant Harry was able to escape without a beating right away. But now that beating was chasing him.

Harry took breaths in and out heavily. This wasn’t going to end well if Jonathan saw him. Maybe he had walked in for y/n? The thought made Harry close to sick. How was it possible that y/n and Jonathan had dated? And for a year! He remembers being infatuated with her and thinking about actually trying to talk to her when Jonathan, the guy that had pushed him against the dressing room lockers that same morning, walked in and cut off his view of her, by kissing her, and she let herself be kissed. Harry needed around 3 different kinds of meds to keep himself from vomiting that night. There was no way he could talk to her, there was no way she would give him the time of day.

He took a deep breath in and out. There was no way he was going to hide until Jonathan decided to leave, so Harry decided to pick up his things and walking out the library while he could. Whatever beating Jonathan had planned would have to wait, he wouldn’t do it in front of Mrs. Lang.

Oh but Harry was wrong. He was only able to take around 10 steps towards the exit, quickly glancing at where Mrs. Lang would normally have been, had she not gone who knows where to do who knows what and all Harry could feel was his heart dropping down to his toes, and the tight grip someone suddenly had on his suit vest. Then all he knew is that he was on the ground, facing up to Jonathan sneering at him. “ Hey Marcel” was all he said before picking Harry back up by his shirt collar and pressing him to the wall. Harry winced at the loud noise of his body slamming to the wall and at the sight of Jonathan’s drawn back fist, as he braced himself for the impact. “ Jonathan stop that!” came the voice Harry knew as Y/N’s and he slightly opened an eye up to see her holding his fist in her hand and pushing at the tall, broad body of his bully, trying to get him off Harry. The effort was close to useless, all it did was reduce the pack of the punch. When Harry felt it collide with his cheek, he knew that this was not what he had coming for him. He’s felt a variety of Jonathan’s fists, and this wasn’t the strongest he could hit. He tried to wriggle himself free before he could get a taste of a second punch. “ I should leave you toothless after your joke in Biology” “ J-Jonathan, p-please…” “ Shut up Marcel!” And there it was again, the image of a drawn back fist, ready to collide with his face once more. Harry wasn’t sure he had enough things in his med kit back in his dorm, to treat the proper beating he was about to get. And then he was on the ground. Mrs. Lang had come up and started scolding Jonathan, with threats of calling campus security and all the coward could do was shake off y/n’s arms from him and rush to get out.

Harry kept his eyes closed as Mrs. Lang and Y/N talked, something about the older woman having a med kit behind her desk somewhere, and something about the younger one being angry and picking up his things. But there was laughter as well. All he could focus on was the snickers that came all around, people that had witnessed the scene and were murmuring whatever nonsense. People that irritated him, and his mind clouded with thoughts of what they could be saying about him, and the pity he dreaded to get. However he could, he gathered his things, fixed his glasses on his face and got up, shaking his shoulders and quickly walking out of the library.

Before Mrs. Lang and y/n could notice, too enthralled in their search for a med kit and their talk about how horrible it was that Jonathan was closest to an animal than a human, Harry had gone, and when they turned to treat him, ask him how he was, there was nothing.

Harry hadn’t punched anything in a long time, and it felt good to toss around the pillows and the extra mattress in his room. After Nick had dropped out, too late into the semester for Harry to have to get a new roommate, he had double the space. He had freedom and comfort. It was all him to do whatever he wanted, and it was all him and no one to really talk about anything. While Harry angrily held an icepack to his slightly bruised up cheek, he’d decided. Maybe he could take his boxing lessons back up, at least to properly punch the lights out of Jonathan once, once and for all, and then maybe get him to stop bothering him so much.

He thought over and over if it would be healthy to hold the ice pack to his crotch and maybe ease his hard on the same way a cold shower would… No that probably isn’t how that works.

He’s annoyed that even after a brisk shower he’s still hard thinking about y/n. Today has definitely been a roller coaster. He settles himself on his bed, removing his glasses and placing them on the bedside table, still half naked from his shower, a towel wrapped around him tightly. He undoes the knot to reveal his hard cock that springs up to his stomach. It takes him no time to wrap his fingers around himself. Three. Three times he’s wanked to the thought of y/n today. And hopefully this was the last one. As amazing as it was to know he packed stamina and could keep his member up perfectly, it was torture to have to walk around hiding it, and in pain. It was torture to see her around campus and know that he’s hard for her. To see her and remember his dream where she’s riding him slowly, hips swaying and making perfect circles on top of him. Her hands playing with his hair and his hands sensually gripping at everything they can reach.

He starts slowly, gripping his head and then lowering his hands down his shaft, thumbing at the slit at the end of himself. His eyes shut. He’s got a vivid imagination and it’s perfect for this moment. It’s like she’s there, he’s close to feeling her weight on his thigh, her breath on his neck. His back arches as he decides to play with his balls, one hand tugging and squeezing, the other making a V with his index and middle finger, applying pressure down on the thickness of it. Soon he’s moaning, scooting in the bed until he’s in a position where he can picture bucking up into her. “ Fuck” he whispers as he feels himself edge closer and closer, the only thought in his head besides the image of her doing all the things he wishes she’d do to him, - and he’d do to her back - is the thought of “what is she doing to me”. Harry isn’t close to knowing why on earth she had this effect on him. It’s like she had cast some sort of voodoo crap he’ll never understand, and he doesn’t know if he wants to ever be freed from it.

His hips move on their own, as his hands run up and down, he speeds up his motions looking for a quick release, all he wants is to cum to the imagination of her telling him how good he feels deep inside her.

He cums in thick hot spurts that run down his hand and between his fingers. His chest heaves up and down as he falls back on his mattress, curls in every which way, still damp after his shower. He lifts up his head to look down at his hand and the mess he’s made. One day he’s going to get to fuck her and he’s not going to be able to last much, he knows this. Well he hopes, really, that one day he can even talk to her properly, without stuttering over every other word, and that maybe she’d find him interesting enough to stay for a while. A groan leaves his lips as he lets his head fall back again to his soft pillow. Yeah, as if that was ever going to happen. A knock comes at the door completely catching him off guard. Damn, he needs to wipe his juices from his fingers still. Picking up whatever shirt he can he cleans his hand and reaches for his boxers. The knock comes again and again. “ Hold up! M’coming!” He can’t help but giggle at the sentence. He came really but… oh well. There’s the knock again as he slips on his underwear and selects a different shirt to pull over his head. He only gets to pick up his glasses from the bedside table, and rushes to open the door to find... “ Y/N!” He gasps out. “Uhh… w-what uh…” He starts to put the white shirt on over his head however he can, wiping his glasses with it and placing them on his face. Fuck. She… God she was there, at his door.

On the other side, all y/n could think about was… Fuck, Harry had tattoos? The last thing she was really expecting was for dorky Marcel- Harry, y/n, his name is Harry- she thought to herself. The last she thought was that Harry, the Harry she’s known for more than two years was so fit and tall and tattooed. And that his hair was curly without the gel, and long. And that his eyes were that green, and big without the glasses. That goes to show just how much she knows him. Nothing at all. But she’s never had the chance. He’s always on a rush or seems to not want to talk to her. “ Hi, Harry!” “ H-hey” He’s about to smack himself dead in the head. Why can’t he talk to her” “ So, uh… Well you dropped…” she reaches into her backpack and takes out a notebook. Harry recognises it as one of his and looks to the table where he stacks his notes to find the familiar blue notebook to be missing “this after the… Library… uh-I saw your name on it and… Well…” y/n finishes with a slight blush to her cheeks. Not enough to match Harry’s though. “Oh, t-thanks. I… Thanks” He awkwardly reaches over to grab it, while looking into her eyes. Fuck she’s so beautiful. “No problem… I-I… I’m sorry, by the way” Harry’s face is puzzled, what could she be sorry for? “It’s no… No big deal?” “ I mean… About, you know. Jonathan.” she whispers and Harry clutches the notebook to his chest as he looks down to his toes. “ Y-yeh don’t have t’apologise, i-it’s not like… S’not l-like s’your f-fault he’s…” He doesn’t want to say anything that maybe could hurt her feelings, after all they did date and maybe, although Harry doubts it, he was a nice boyfriend... “ A jerk? A dick? An asshole?” Harry’s eyes open wide in surprise. Well he wasn’t expecting those words from y/n’s mouth. He did imagine her mouth over his- “Uh well, yeah… that” he chuckles, trying to hide his blushing cheeks. He needs to stop thinking about her in… those scenarios. Don’t take him as a perv, mostly he doodles her name onto the edges of his papers, erases it before he turns them in, and he pictures himself making her laugh and smile and he imagines kisses. It’s just… It’s been a really horny day. “But it’s n-not your fault y/n, s-so… No need to apologise” She gives him a short smile and a court nod. “ Kay… I think it’s awful how he treats you and… Well I won’t talk about that anymore” “ Yeah… It’s i-in the past.”

Y/n and Harry stare at each other for a small moment. He can’t really believe this is happening, he really is talking to her and it’s not that awful… right? It’s not. Y/N’s hand twitches as she reaches it over to Harry’s bruised cheek, but it stops before she can ghost her fingers over the purple mark. Harry’s lungs feel like they have stopped taking in air. His chest is tight. “ You… You should ice that” she whispers. “ Y-yeah… I will ” and then silence.

There’s… Harry’s a bit afraid to say it but there’s tension in the air. Did she get closer, or did he? An urge pops up in his brain suddenly. He could… God, he could reach in and touch her, grab her and pull her to him. He could… He could kiss her, if only he was strong enough, brave enough. She coughs a little and steps back into the hallway. She felt like she was suffocating, like she’d been punched and her brain didn’t get enough oxygen so she’s woozy. She could kiss him. It’d sink every small chance of ever getting to be-friend him. Maybe he thinks she’s as awful as Jonathan. After all she dated the guy, and maybe that made her look like a bully as well, or like someone who didn’t care for him. She’s angry that her horrible ex could have ruined whatever it is she could have had with Harry. She’s scared. He’s scared.

So they nod. They wave. They smile. She turns around and he stares at her. The way she walks away and her hips sway, how whatever perfume she uses is lingering. And then he closes the door. Y/N beats herself up over it on her way to her dorm, and Harry smacks his head on the wall for a good 5 minutes. Why is he so awkward around her? Why is she so afraid of reaching out to him?

As Harry lets himself fall back on his bed he sighs. The phantom feeling of another erection keeps him awake for another 30 minutes.

Thanks for reading! Saw the gifs around and have had them saved for the longest time. talked about it with @overad and she kept pushing me to write this so... IT’S HERE! Let me know if this should have a part two cause I kinda think it might have one.