#protective harry

Harry’s apartment felt impossibly cozy, plush cushions, blankets piled on the couch, the distant hum of a carefully curated playlist filling the quiet spaces between their words. The scent of something faintly sweet lingered in the air, remnants of the dessert they had shared after dinner. A movie played on the television, the volume low, but neither of them were really paying attention.

Y/N was curled up against Harry’s side, her legs tangled with his, fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns over his forearm. It was such a simple touch, but it meant everything. She could feel his steady breathing, the occasional squeeze of his fingers against her thigh, the way his thumb ghosted back and forth over her skin in a rhythm that felt instinctual. She felt safe. And that was what mattered most.

The thought had been lingering in her mind for days, maybe weeks—long enough for it to take root, for it to grow into something more than just a fleeting idea. At first, it had been just that: a thought, a possibility that she had entertained but wasn’t quite ready to act on. But things had changed. Harry made her feel different.

It wasn’t just the way he touched her, though that was part of it—the way his hands never wandered without purpose, how he always seemed to ask permission without words. It was the way he looked at her, like she was something to be cherished, something precious. It was the way he spoke to her, soft and patient, never pushing, never demanding.

And that’s how she knew she was ready.

The words formed in her throat before she could second-guess them. Soft, hesitant, but certain.

“I think I’m ready.”

She felt the way Harry stilled beneath her. Not tense, not alarmed, just still. He processed her words in real time, a slow blink, a small inhale, before shifting to look at her fully. The flickering light from the television cast delicate shadows over his face, but she could still see everything—the concern in his eyes, the way his brows twitched like he was about to ask a million questions at once but held himself back.

His fingers found her cheek, brushing along the curve of her jaw, tilting her chin just enough that she couldn’t look away. “Yeah?” His voice was barely above a whisper, a careful thing.

Y/N swallowed, nodding. “Yeah.”

Harry’s thumb ghosted over her bottom lip. “You’re sure?”

She could hear the weight behind his words. He wasn’t asking for reassurance for himself—he was giving her an out. An opportunity to change her mind, to take a step back if she needed to. There was no rush, no expectation. She didn’t hesitate. “I want this. With you.”

A slow breath left Harry’s lips, his shoulders deflating, like he had been bracing for something else. His fingers curled around her cheek, his palm warm and grounding. He studied her for a moment longer, searching for any flicker of doubt, anything that would make him pause. But all he found was certainty. He nodded, pressing his forehead against hers, his breath warm against her skin. “Okay, love.”

There was a pause, a shift, like something in the air had changed between them. The unspoken tension from earlier—the one that had settled between their bodies, lingering just out of reach—was now tangible.

But this time, it wasn’t uncertainty. It was anticipation.

Harry let the silence stretch between them. His fingers traced along her jaw, slow and reverent, his gaze never wavering. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, and it wasn’t just about the way she looked. It was everything—her trust, her vulnerability, the way she was giving this part of herself to him without hesitation.

Y/N’s breath hitched as his lips brushed over hers, soft at first, just the ghost of a kiss. A question. A promise.

Then he kissed her again, deeper this time, as his hands found her waist, pulling her just a little closer. He wasn’t rushing, wasn’t pushing. Every movement was measured, deliberate, designed to make her feel safe, cherished. His fingers traced the hem of her shirt, a silent request, and when she nodded, he lifted it over her head, discarding it somewhere behind them.

His lips barely left hers, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses along her jaw, down the column of her throat. “So perfect,” he whispered against her skin. “So good for me.” His words sent a shiver through her, warmth pooling low in her belly.

She felt the roughness of his calloused fingers against the soft skin of her waist, sliding up, teasing along the underside of her breast before finally—finally—brushing over her nipple. She sucked in a breath, her body arching instinctively into his touch.

Harry groaned, low and deep. “Love the way you react to me.” He rolled the sensitive peak between his fingers, watching the way her lips parted, her lashes fluttering.

He leaned down, taking her nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking over it just to feel her shudder beneath him. His free hand splayed across her back, grounding her, keeping her close.

Y/N let out a soft whimper, her fingers threading into his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan against her skin. The sound went straight through her, making her thighs clench around his waist.

But Harry wasn’t done taking his time.

He eased her down onto the couch, kissing a slow path down her stomach, his fingers working on the waistband of her leggings. “Lift your hips for me, baby,” he murmured, and she did, letting him pull them down along with her underwear in one smooth motion.

A flush spread across her chest, warmth crawling up her neck as she laid bare beneath him. But she wasn’t nervous. Not with him.

Harry settled between her thighs, pressing a kiss just above her knee, then another, trailing higher and higher. “Been thinking about this,” he admitted, voice husky. “Been wanting to taste you.”

The words sent a fresh wave of arousal through her, and Harry must have noticed because he groaned, his fingers gripping her thighs just a little tighter.

Then he kissed her there—soft at first, just a teasing press of his lips against her.

Y/N gasped, her back arching as his tongue traced along her folds, slow and deliberate. He was savoring her, taking his time, learning what made her sigh, what made her whimper.

He flicked his tongue over her clit, drawing a sharp inhale from her lips. “That’s it, baby,” he murmured, his breath hot against her. “Let me hear you.”

She had no control over the sounds slipping from her mouth as he worked her, his tongue alternating between soft, teasing licks and firm, focused strokes. Her thighs trembled, her fingers twisting in his curls, pulling him impossibly closer.

Harry moaned against her, the vibration making her hips jerk. “Fuck,” she whimpered, and he hummed in approval, gripping her thighs tighter as he devoured her.

The pressure built quickly, heat coiling in her stomach, her body tensing with the impending release. “Harry”

“I’ve got you, love,” he soothed, pressing his tongue flat against her clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles until she shattered beneath him.

Her thighs clenched around his head as pleasure flooded through her, her entire body trembling as he guided her through it, his hands firm on her hips, keeping her grounded.But he didn’t stop.

She barely had a moment to catch her breath before he was kissing his way back up her body, dragging her onto his lap. “Again, baby,” he murmured, his hands gripping her hips, guiding her to straddle his thigh.

Y/N’s head was spinning, but the need in his voice, the sheer adoration in his eyes, made her move. She pressed herself against him, gasping at the pressure, at the way his hands steadied her, encouraged her. He guided her movements, slow and steady, letting her find her rhythm, his lips brushing against her ear. “Take what you need, sweetheart.”

And she did. She rocked against him, chasing the friction, feeling the heat build all over again. Harry’s hands never stopped moving—trailing up her back, gripping her waist, tilting her hips just right. His lips were everywhere—her neck, her shoulder, her jaw—whispering sweet praises against her skin.

“That’s my girl.”

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful like this.”

“Let go for me, baby.”

She tumbled into her second release with a soft cry, her body shuddering against his. Harry held her through it, his arms wrapped tightly around her, pressing soft kisses to her hair as she came down.

Breathless but still sure.

The weight of the moment settled between them—heavy in the best way, filling the space with warmth and something almost sacred. Y/N’s body was still trembling, her mind hazy from pleasure, but even through the overwhelming sensation, she knew this wasn’t the end.

Harry knew it too.

He was still holding her, his hands gentle as they traced slow, soothing patterns across her back, grounding her. His lips ghosted over her temple, murmuring soft praises that made her chest tighten with something unspoken. “So perfect,” he whispered. “So good for me.”

She melted into him, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of him—clean and warm, mixed with the faintest hint of cologne and something entirely him.

His hands skimmed down her sides, resting on her waist as he shifted beneath her. She could feel him—hard and heavy, pressed between them, the evidence of just how much he wanted her. And she wanted him, too.

She swallowed, her heart pounding as she lifted her head to meet his gaze. There was something unguarded in his eyes, something raw and devastatingly tender.

“I want you,” she murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

Harry’s breath hitched, his fingers tightening on her hips. “Are you really sure?”

She nodded, her hands coming up to cup his face. “I’m sure.”

His eyes searched hers, looking for even the slightest hesitation. But there wasn’t any.

Still, he didn’t rush. He never rushed with her.

Instead, he shifted, gently guiding her onto her back, settling between her thighs with deliberate slowness. His lips found hers again, softer this time, reverent. Like he was memorizing her, mapping out every part of her he hadn’t already claimed.

His fingers trailed down her body, brushing over her stomach before dipping lower. He slipped two fingers inside her, moving slow, preparing her all over again, making sure she was ready.

Y/N whimpered, her hips rolling instinctively toward his touch. “Harry,” she gasped, fingers clutching at his biceps.

“I know, baby,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her jaw. “Just wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“I am,” she breathed. “I promise.”

He hesitated for only a moment longer before finally reaching between them, lining himself up. The tip of his cock brushed against her entrance, already slick and glistening from how worked up she was.

But even with all the preparation, she still felt tight, still felt that flicker of nervousness.

Harry noticed instantly.

“Breathe, baby,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. He nudged in just a little, barely entering her, letting her body adjust at her own pace.

The stretch was more intense than she had expected. A sharp, insistent pressure that made her body go rigid beneath him, her fingers gripping onto the sheets as she tried to will herself to relax. The initial burn spread through her like a slow-moving flame, and instinctively, her thighs clamped tighter around him.

Harry felt it immediately—the way she tensed, the way her breath hitched, her entire body instinctively fighting against the intrusion. He froze, one hand coming up to cup her cheek, thumb stroking softly over her heated skin. “Hey, baby,” he whispered, voice drenched in tenderness. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then another to the tip of her nose, his lips featherlight. “You’re doing so good for me, so good. But we can stop. Anytime, okay? Just say the word.”

She shook her head, a small, shaky breath escaping her lips. She didn’t want to stop. She wanted this—with him. She had thought about this for days, weeks even, and she had never felt safer with anyone than she did now. Even through the discomfort, the unfamiliarity, there was nowhere else she would rather be than right here, wrapped up in him, giving him this piece of herself.

“I want this,” she murmured, voice soft but resolute. “I trust you.”

Something shifted in his gaze then, something warm and reverent, like he was seeing her in a way he never had before. He nodded slowly, dipping down to capture her lips in a kiss so sweet it nearly made her melt.

“Okay, sweetheart,” he murmured, his forehead pressing against hers. “We’ll go slow. You just tell me what you need.”

And he did go slow, agonizingly so. He rocked forward just an inch, letting her adjust, then another, always watching her face for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. His hands never stopped moving, fingers tracing idle patterns along her hips, massaging gently at her sides, keeping her grounded in him, in this moment.

But it still hurt. Even with all the patience in the world, even with how careful he was, the stretch was relentless. Her nails dug into his shoulders, holding onto him like an anchor, her breath uneven.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes before she even realized they were there. Not because it was unbearable, not because she regretted it, but because it was overwhelming—the weight of it, the intimacy of it. The sheer vulnerability of it all.

Harry noticed instantly. He always did. His expression crumbled, something pained flashing across his features before he dipped his head down, brushing his lips over her damp cheeks, kissing away the evidence of her struggle.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he whispered against her skin. “I know, I know. ‘M so sorry. Just breathe, baby. Breathe for me.”

A sudden sting bloomed deep inside her, pulling a sharp gasp from her lips. She squeezed her eyes shut, fingers tightening their grip on him as her body fought to adjust.

Harry froze. “Fuck,” he breathed, his voice tight with restraint. “Sweetheart, I—shit, I know. I know. ‘M so sorry, baby.”

A flicker of red smeared where they were joined, a tangible mark of this moment, of what she had given him, something so fragile and precious. His jaw clenched at the sight, guilt flashing across his features even though she had reassured him over and over that she wanted this. That she had chosen this.

He tried to move, to ease some of the pressure, but the second he did, she let out the softest wince, her body recoiling slightly. His forehead dropped to hers, breath shuddering.

“We don’t have to make this perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “We can stop, baby. Right now. It doesn’t have to be anything more than this.”

She blinked up at him, her vision still slightly blurred with unshed tears, but she shook her head. She didn’t want to stop. She wanted to push through, to move past the discomfort and settle into this feeling of being so wholly his.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “Just... give me a second.”

He did. Of course he did. He stayed still, his body barely moving, his weight supported by his forearms so he wouldn’t press down on her too much. He let her adjust, let her breathing steady, let her decide when she was ready. His lips never left her skin, pressing slow, reverent kisses along her jaw, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. Soft praises spilled from his lips, each one more patient than the last.

And when she finally felt ready, when the sting dulled into something more manageable, she gave him a small nod.

“You can move,” she whispered.

Harry exhaled slowly, as if he had been holding his breath this entire time. His hips rolled forward, just the tiniest bit, testing. His touch was delicate, his movements careful, like he was afraid of breaking her. And maybe, in some way, he was.

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t some earth-shattering moment of pleasure, some blissful crescendo of passion. She didn’t come this time, and that was okay. He didn’t make her feel like she had to. He just held her. He kissed her. He told her how proud he was of her, how much he loved her, how beautiful she was like this, bare and vulnerable in his arms.

And when it was over, when he finally pulled away, his first instinct wasn’t to take care of himself, but to take care of her. He kissed her forehead, brushed the damp strands of hair from her face, whispered, “You did so good for me, sweetheart.”

And she believed him.

Her body felt different, tender, a little sore, but wrapped in a warmth that had nothing to do with the sheets tangled around them and everything to do with him. She barely noticed the way her breath still came unevenly, her muscles weak and trembling, until Harry was shifting beside her, brushing the back of his fingers down her cheek.

“Let me take care of you, love.”

She didn’t protest when he pressed another kiss to her forehead and slid out of bed, moving with quiet purpose toward the bathroom. The distant sound of water running filled the air, accompanied by soft rustling—cabinets opening, bottles clinking together. The warm, floral scent of rose and vanilla drifted into the room, and her lips curled into the faintest smile.

He was drawing her a bath.

The realization sent a fresh wave of emotion crashing over her, something deep and overwhelming settling in her chest. She’d always known Harry was thoughtful, always so gentle and attuned to her, but this—this was something else entirely. This was devotion.

By the time he returned, she was blinking sleepily at him, her body too heavy with exhaustion to move. He chuckled softly, crouching beside her, brushing a few damp strands of hair away from her face.

“Come on, sweetheart. Bath’s ready for you.”

She let him lift her, his hands strong but careful as he carried her to the bathroom. The air was warm, steam curling through the soft candlelight, and the sight that greeted her nearly took her breath away.

The bathtub was full, the surface of the water dotted with delicate rose petals, their deep crimson and soft pink hues floating amidst the gentle foam of bubbles. A few flickering candles lined the counter, casting a golden glow over the space, the light catching on the deep amber bottle of bath oil he’d added to the water. The scent of roses was richer here, blending with the faint traces of lavender.

She turned to him, her heart swelling. “Harry…”

“I wanted to make it special for you, baby.” He ran a soothing hand down her back. “You deserve it.”

Carefully, he helped her into the warm water, easing her down as her sore muscles sighed in relief. The heat wrapped around her like a cocoon, soothing the ache between her thighs, and a soft moan of contentment slipped from her lips.

Harry smiled, his dimples peeking through as he knelt beside the tub, rolling up the sleeves of his t-shirt. “Feels good, yeah?”

She nodded, already sinking deeper, letting the petals drift lazily around her arms as she closed her eyes for a moment.

Harry didn’t just leave her there. He stayed, always so present, his fingers tracing along her arm before he reached for a soft washcloth. He dipped it into the warm water, then ran it over her skin, slow and reverent, as if cleansing her was an act of worship. He worked gently, wiping away the lingering remnants of sweat and love, murmuring sweet praises all the while.

“So beautiful.”

“M’so proud of you, angel.”

“Love you more than anything.”

His voice was a balm, each whispered word soothing her more than the water ever could.

At one point, he reached for the bottle of shampoo, pouring some into his palm before working it through her hair with practiced ease. His fingers massaged her scalp, and she sighed, tipping her head back slightly as he washed away the remnants of the night with the same patience and tenderness he had shown her in bed.

When he was done, he kissed her temple and whispered, “Stay as long as you want, sweetheart. I’ll be right here.”

But she didn’t want to stay in the water forever—not when Harry was waiting for her.

When she finally let him help her out, he wrapped her in a thick, fluffy towel, pressing a kiss to her damp hair as he whispered, “Let’s get you comfy, yeah?”

Back in the bedroom, he dressed her in one of his oversized shirts, the hem brushing just above her knees, the fabric swallowing her up in a way that made her feel impossibly small and safe. He tucked her into bed, then climbed in beside her, pulling her against his chest.

His arms curled around her, holding her close, his fingers drawing slow, soothing patterns on her back.

“D’you need anything, baby? Water? Something to eat?”

She shook her head, sighing against him. “Just you.”

His grip tightened ever so slightly, his lips pressing to her forehead. “Always, love.”

As her eyelids grew heavier, she heard him whisper one last thing against her skin, a quiet promise she knew he would always keep. “Sleep, baby. I’ve got you.”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Thank you so much for reading, you’re a total angel! Don’t forget to like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed! It means everything to me! 💖

There was never a day you thought you’d be b-lining to Harry of all people.

Especially not with the intention of once getting there, that you would be slamming your lips against his.

However, you already know you’d rather face a pit of blood-thirsty snakes then be forced into a conversation with your asshole of an ex boyfriend.

Who you know is currently seeking you out, because when you’d caught glimpse of him scouring the groups of people inside the kitchen, after coming back from the bathroom— your stomach dropped, and someone tapped your shoulder.

“He’s your ex, right?” The girl had said this with a light scrunch of her nose as she looked over to him. Her face riddled with a sense of disgust you couldn’t relate to more If you tried.

You had nodded, to which she replied, “Well, he’s asking everyone if you’re here and where you are. Going by his personality I’m assuming you’re gonna want to avoid that.”

You’d never wanted to hug someone more then her in that moment.

At the information she’d so kindly shared with you, your first priority was getting out of the house.

The front door wasn’t an option since he is near the only hallway that leads it it. So out through the back patio, where a smaller group of people were mingling by the fire, was easily your best option.

You knew this was where he’d be likely looking next, so you ran out the door. Unsure if you are about to just find a way to jump the fence and make your escape or…

Either way, you knew if he managed to talk to you, you’d be getting an unwanted earful of advances.

He’d beg with his nasally voice for you to give him a chance, and then go on about the same bitter ending you’d both faced. To his own fault, of course.

He was talking to multiple other girls over the damn state while you were together. And once you found out, it confirmed your outlook on his person.

He of course was charming and nice at first. But it was almost in a sleazy way when you think back to it. He’d yelled at you when you bought up his adulterous habits, and you never looked back after that.

Once you were outside, you were considering your options, but you spotted a person on the other side of the decking.

The second your eyes locked on Harry, it was a done deal.

If you were to seem like you were in another relationship, he would be much more likely to back off. Much more likely to never contact or try to find you again.

He was petrified of other men. Always felt so inferior around them. So this would be perfect, if you could just make it work.

All your past with him fell from the forefront of your mind as you practically ran in his direction. Maybe you had argued countless times over college projects and he could be a bit of an ass, but you still knew you could trust him.

He was leaned against the wooden beam of the patio, skin casted with a warm glow from the fire a few feet away, down on the grass.

He had a signature frown. One that creased between his brows and pouted his pink lips. Creating his almost intimidating persona. Protective in a perfect way.

“Harry.” You state frantically, moving at a pace you’re not used to, shoes hitting the wooden decking hastily.

His scowl deepened as he heard his name, being pulled from his intense train of thought.

“What—” He looks honestly pissed off, but when his gaze snaps to you, it softens a tiny bit. Still annoyed, but just a sliver less.

Also confused at your frantic and rapidly approaching frame, which is now suddenly breaching the usual metre-wide distance you both would maintain on any other day.

“Y/N? What are you—“

You plant your hands on the side of his face, and the look of surprise in his eyes is evident.

His cheeks are warm and smooth under your palms, “I need you to just go with this okay? Can you do that for me?”

He is struggling to make sense of the situation, let alone get a sentence out without being interrupted.

“What do you—“

“I— I’ll explain later just—“ you take a final glance over your shoulder, and see your ex inside still, but seemingly headed for the sliding door to come outside.

This drives the final surge of adrenaline you need to tug his face to yours, melding your lips together. His are puckered in tense shock, and a noise of surprise sounds from the back of his throat.

His hands jump to your hips, gripping them like he’s not sure whether to pull you closer, or push you away.

Your mouth moves against his, and he reciprocates with a sense of hesitation.

His own brain is in absolute overdrive. The interaction far to short to go from being people who merely tolerate one another to people who are currently kissing.

And somewhere inside of him he acknowledges the feeling of how warm your lips are pressed to his.

He senses your urgency now though, hands tensing around his jaw at the sound of the access door getting slid open.

Parting his lips, he impulsively drags his tongue over your bottom lip. You sigh a sound of almost gratefulness at his action.

Harry turns his body swiftly, pressing your back into the railing, his lips moving harder against yours.

“Y/N! Are you bloody out here?” A grating voice sounds, and he quickly picks up the pieces of the story he was missing.

The voice also pulls him out of the half trance he’d gotten himself in. Your mouth so warm, he genuinely forgot his own name for a second.

One of your hands slide down to the neck of his black shirt, securing it in an anxious grip.

The pace quickly picks up, him plastering himself to you as close as physically possible. Clashing mouths as he shadows your body with his.

“Oi, mate!” He ignores the yell, and is met with the footsteps of this guy coming closer.

“Have you seen—“

Harry pulls from your mouth, turning his head to look at the dickhead who you’re clearly attempting to get away from. And who just hypothetically interrupted someone’s makeout session— which is just fucking rude anyway.

“Do I look like I have?” Harry scowls, an angry tone over his voice.

The guy frowns, an ugly look casting upon his features, he steps closer, “No need to be a fucking di—“

He moved just close enough to see you, frowning, making sense that you were just essentially making out with someone, “Y/N I—“

“Can you fuck off? We’re in the middle of something here, that you’ve just so kindly interrupted. Read the room you twat.” His sentences come out harsh, and it’s clear he means it.

Your ex tries his luck a final time, “look I just want to talk with—“

And Harry interjects it again, “She’s not interested.”

You stay quiet, and at this he gets a disgusted look. It appalls you that he thinks you owe him anything.

There’s a stare down between the two men. But you can see in his face he’s intimidated. Also humiliated, that you’ve seemingly moved on with someone else, and that he’s clearly got no shot at winning you back.

“Fucking ass.” He hisses, and turns around, storming down the patio and back inside.

Harry turns back to you, shielding your frame with his. A sigh of relief passes through you.

You look a little shaken up, and he loosens the grip he has on you slightly. Both your lips still puffed and shining from the exchange you unexpectedly shared.

“Thank you…” you pant out, not sure if you’re out of breath from the situation or because of Harry.

The reality of what just happened comes pelting down on you both.

And it’s quiet a moment as you both clock over in your brains that you just practically made out. It takes a second for him to break the silence,

“So, stalker? Ex? Random guy who can’t take no for an answer?” He quizzes.

Feeling embarrassed, you purse your lips— but are able to to taste the remnants of his own mouth on yours. “Ex.”

“Ex?”

You nod.

“You sound surprised. Didn’t you think I could land anyone?” You scoff, trying desperately to bring back the usual snarky vibe between the two of you.

“No, not at all. Just that he was clearly batting above his level. He was a proper dickhead, and that’s rich when it’s compared to you.” You thank god he plays back into your banter.

But he pries further, “What exactly did he do to you?”

“Long story.” You attempt to brush it off, but he has none of it.

“Love, y’just came over here and slammed your bloody mouth over mine, and now you’re not going to tell me why?”

“But—“

“No,” he interrupts, still very close to you as he shakes his head, “No buts. Y’said you’d explain after.”

A sigh rattles out of you, feeling a little pathetic you’re telling Harry you got cheated on.

“He cheated on me. Like with multiple girls.”

To this, his face immediately drops.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. Unfortunately.”

He fights the overwhelming urge to go hunt him down and lay a hand into the side of his fucking face. An absolute scumbag.

“What a pathetic excuse for a man.” He scoffs, “Lucky to have even got a pretty girl like you, and he blew it.”

You flush, another brief wave of quiet falling over the two of you. His compliments throwing you.

You quietly speak again, “I’m sorry about the… kiss. Didn’t really get as much consent as I’d have liked.”

You did feel guilty, you don’t usually go forcing your mouth onto unsuspecting men.

“No, it’s okay. You did it for a reason.” He shakes his head at your apology, and in all honesty, he enjoyed it.

Somehow it meant more than many of his others have. And he can’t quite pinpoint why.

“I… I carpooled here so, I think I’m gonna call an Uber and go home ‘cause…”

You had no interest in sticking around, incase your ex comes back— and you don’t want to spend the rest of your night glued to Harry’s side, because you doubt he’d want that.

“You’re not catching an Uber home.” He scoffs aloud, fishing his keys from his back pocket, “I’ve only had one drink, I’ll be fine to drive, so I’ll take you.”

“Harry, no. You’ve already done plenty for me tonight, I’ll be fine—“

He grabs at your hand, lacing them together and beginning to walk you down the patio.

“I’m driving you home.” He states, leading the you inside.

He clutched your hand tight, eyes forward and uncaring of the heads that had turned your way.

You on the other hand had burned up at the curious— and quickly jealous— eyes.

Harry was by no means a whore. There were plenty of rumours of him sleeping with certain girls. Mostly outlandish stories that eventually fizzled out to nothing.

He’d had a few girlfriends here and there, but it’d been a while since. And he’s maybe had one actual fling over the last couple months.

It just seemed he was harder to get. And many women tried their luck around the school. Yet to no avail.

You cast your sight down, walking behind him out the front door. Relishing in the quiet surroundings of the front lawn, free of prying glares.

He unlocked his car that was parked on the side of the road, and he opens the side door for you to get in. Chivalry mustn’t be dead.

Once you’re both in the car, you fight the urge to say again that he really doesn’t have to take you, because it’s clear there is no other option on his end.

So instead, you let out a tiny thank you, and he nods while starting the car.

However, your self restraint only branches so far— matter-of-fact, you weren’t even out of the street— before you blurt out, “Everyone was staring.”

He veers his gaze momentarily to you, then flicking it back to the road. Silence stretches a moment, and he recalls the heat of your lips pressed to yours with no real prompt.

And when he thinks of it, the image doesn’t leave his head. It unwillingly transpires, into something that bubbles into the pit of his stomach.

He had to blink it away, grounding himself when he hears your nervous swallow.

“I— what?” He’s confused at what you mean, while you kissed? When you walked out?

“When we walked out.” You reply, and he makes sense of what you’re talking about.

“People will always stare. They’re nosey.”

“I know.”

There’s another breath of silence, until he laughs, so suddenly that it almost makes you jump.

“Where am I going?” He asks, still chuckling as he realises he’s literally just driving aimlessly.

“Oh.” You sputter out a laugh as well, rattling off the side of town he needs to start driving to.

You wish you had more to say to him. That’s conversation usually flowed easily— filled with the sarcastic retorts it usually is. But now all that sat between you was a thick, hot slab of tension.

It wasn’t bad— not by any means— but it was easy to tell both of you were stuck in your own head. And you fear you’ve fashioned a permanent problem between the two of you.

Your voice only cut through the quiet once you were a few blocks away from your house.

He hummed acknowledgements to your each set of directions, and before you knew it, you were pointing out your house to him.

As his car pulled to a stop in the driveway, he didn’t hesitate to turn off the engine and get out.

Confused, you follow suit anyway, but wondered if he was about to walk you to your door.

And you weren’t wrong. Somehow, the guy who seems hardly like a gentleman, is waiting to walk the maybe 15 steps with you from his car to your front door.

You get your keys from your small bag, looking at him with an undeniably curious gaze as you meet his side.

He follows in sync by your side, hands in pockets. All the way up the patio steps, and he falls to a stop when you do, still next to you.

“Thank you for driving me home…” you smile, and can feel an unwilling red colouring spread over your cheeks.

“Was nothin’. Glad you’re home safe.”

“Were you seriously worried about me?” You frown, yet it’s undeniably endearing his concern for you.

A tiny scoff sounds from him, “Obviously?”

“That fuckin’ twat of an ex you have hardly seems like a good person. And who’s t’say he wouldn’t follow you home from that party and…” he stares off in thought, jaw clenching.

“Harry.” You state, stepping forward, wrapping a single hand around his wrist.

“Thank you.”

His distant gaze was snapped away at your touch. He’s never really considered himself an overly violent person, but your ex was easily about to change that.

And he hardly can pinpoint why. Or not yet.

The only thing he knows he wants to do again in sudden clarity, is kiss you. It almost shocks him, because he hasn’t felt an urge as strong as this in forever.

“Can— I need you to just go with this.” He mutters, being the one now very suddenly invading the gap between you both.

He’s mimicking what you said when you kissed him, yet you don’t realise “I’ll explain later.”

His hand cups the side of your jaw, and he leans to brush his lips against yours, a breath of relief fanning out his nose after finally feeling the contact.

You’re stood on your porch, and Harry is kissing you.

And somehow you’re all the sudden kissing him back.

Not because there’s someone you’re running from. Not because you have to. Because you want to.

He pulls you closer to him, allowing his teeth to graze your lower lip. Causing your hands to card through the hair at the nape of his neck.

You both play a back and forth game. Full of lips against tongue and tongue against teeth.

Until you’re both panting and running out of new places to map out with your hands.

“Care to explain?” You retort gently, stricken of breath.

He hums in the back of his throat, barley a rumble as he trails his mouth along your jaw, and down to the base of your neck.

“Is this enough of an answer?” He asks, sucking the skin between your two collarbones between his teeth.

Your knees almost give out at the sensation, and even the pressure behind his harsh mouth.

A near whimper comes from you, and he licks over the slightly bruised spot before he pulls back.

He cocks an eyebrow, expectant of your answer, despite having such a skilled mouth you’re pretty sure you forgot your own name for a second there.

“I— yes. That was… plenty.” You nod.

“Did it because I wanted to, and y’have an incredibly hot little mouth.” He provides anyway, a laugh coming from him as he pecks your cheek. All gentle, all loving.

You’re lacking for words completely, and can only lean your head against his broad chest. Unsure what exactly you’ve sparked between the two of you this evening, but simultaneously not caring of the future right now.

“I’m also probably not going to be able to stop thinking about it…” he whispers.

“Stay.” You blurt out, and then clarify a few seconds later, “The night.”

He chuckles at this, “Are you trying to get in bed with me now? Moving very quickly, sweetheart.”

You flush, “Not everything is about sex, you fucking addict.”

“So you were inviting me to stay the night so we could cuddle?”

“I was.” You affirm, despite not being opposed to his idea either.

Grabbing his hand, you lead him to your front door. Unlocking it and making quick work of sneaking him inside without the one of your three lovely housemates hearing.

All the others were luckily out at varying parties, and the only girl still home— Grace— sleeps like a log.

“You seem like a bit of a professional at sneaking people in.” He smirks, kicking his shoes off and leaving them in the corner of your room.

With only the lamp turned on, he’s lit with a warm glow, and he looks beautiful.

“Comes naturally when you live with housemates that are like your best friends. They wanna know everything.” You go to your cupboard, pulling out a jumper to change into.

He watches as you pull it over your head, yet managing to unclip your top and bra off underneath it.

“Impressive.” He nods at your easy change.

“I’m taking my pants off.” You state, “and not in a sexual way, perv.”

He lets out a defensive laugh, “I’m not a perv! You’re the one stripping off.”

You unbutton your jeans, sliding them down your legs to change over to sweatpants. His gaze strays around your room and you smile at his respectfulness.

Once you’re changed, you sit on the edge of your bed.

You lock eyes, and he gives a sly smile, not waiting to tug his shirt over his head and unbutton his own jeans.

You cover your eyes, sarcastically scoffing, “yea well, I didn’t plan on getting fully naked, but you go right ahead.”

“No different if we went swimming, darling. Still have my underwear on.”

You don’t get to reply as his hands tap your knee, “Budge up.”

You uncover your eyes, being met with his toned chest and calvin klein briefs.

Obliging silently, as he gets under the covers with you. The two of you rearrange until you’re comfortable.

Your head perched on his side as you cuddle into him, arm over his abdomen. His own arm curled underneath you.

“This is… an awfully weird situation we’ve ended up in.” You laugh. Because you’re cuddling in your bed right now, and if you told yourself even yesterday that would be happening, there no way in hell you would have taken it seriously.

“Guess it is.” He shrugs, turned his head to look down at yours.

“Still hate your guts.” You whisper.

“Mm, i don’t think I ever even hated you.” He muses.

You laugh, “Is that so?”

“Seriously,” he nods, “you’re too pretty. And even though you’re annoying, and can’t admit when you get a project question wrong, i think I have a little bit of a soft spot for you.”

“Gross.” You say, but he can hear in your tone— and the way it nearly shakes— that you actually are a little worked up over his minor confession.

“Cmon, you can’t even admit you like me a tiny bit?”

You shake your head, blushing profusely as you try to hide it.

He tugs you further up, so he can look at you properly, “You’re blushing though. Like you always seem to do when I get a bit sappy. Which is my most recent observation of you.”

He doesn’t let you respond as he presses another kiss to your lips again. And you smile into it unwillingly.

He pulls away mid-kiss, letting you whine a little at the abrupt ending to it.

“Admit it, and we can keep kissing.” He says, and it draws an eye-roll from you.

But he somehow knows it will work, because you quickly crack under his ultimatum, “Fine! Yes. I like you— just a little bit.”

To your response he laughs, murmuring against your lips, “I’ll take it, I suppose.”

He presses another kiss against you, and you press back again.

It becomes another makeout session, but despite being the third one of the night, it’s the first time hands can skate against mostly bare skin.

Which his own palms find their way under your jumper, and one cups gently at your breast, flicking over your nipple while his tongue dips into your mouth.

That’s as far as it goes for tonight though.

He kneads the flesh there softly, until you’re panting into his mouth with a heat budding between your legs.

Somehow there’s an unspoken not tonight agreement.

And you know that despite how needy you feel for him, it’s definitely for the best. And you’re still shocked you made it this far with him.

You roll into him further, chest rising and falling quickly as you sigh out to him, “I lied.”

“When?” He sounds completely unconcerned, despite your risky sentence starter.

“Before, when I said I only liked you a little bit.”

He chuckles at your response, “How was that a lie, hm?”

“I like you more than a little bit.”

“You’re sweet, darling.” He strokes his thumb against your ribcage, “so do I.”

To this you smiled. Eyes growing heavy at his rhythmic touches and soothing voice.

And his gentle words are the last that you hear before you fall asleep against his chest.

Both filled with a warmth you haven’t felt in a long time.

"You almost ready to go babe?" He asked as I brushed my teeth. "Mhm" I murmured before spitting the toothpaste into the sink. "Let me just grab my bag." I rushed through our apartment to collect the last few things I needed for the video.

We left soon after and Harry drove us to the pitch. Once we arrived we grabbed all of the equipment out of the boot and carried it onto the grass. Then we set everything up and began filming. "Hey guys! Today we're filming a penalty video and Harry's going to be challenging my goal keeping skills so let's get started!" I began. Harry did his usual awkward "yes!" And I giggled.

I assumed my position in the goal and Harry began taking shots. After almost half an hour of switching back and forth between Harry and I it was my turn to be the goal keeper again. Everything went in slow motion, Harry took a shot and before I could even process what was happening the ball whacked me right in my face. I fell to the ground with a thud as my head started to spin and something wet began to drip from my nose.

"Oh my god! y/n I'm so sorry! Shit you're bleeding! Oh nelly." Harry rambled. "Haz I'm fine, just a bit shocked that's all." I calmly stated as he helped me up. "We should take you to the hospital." He stressed. I decided not to argue as I knew he wouldn't take no for an answer. He walked me back to the car then quickly grabbed the cameras along with all of our things. Then he drove us to the hospital.

"Looks like you have a minor concussion, doesn't seem to be anything you need to worry about just rest and take it easy for the next few days." The kind nurse said as I sat next to Harry in the small hospital room. "Are you sure she's gonna be ok?" Harry asked. She nodded "if you're worried about anything just call us up or come back here." She relayed. "Yes, thank you." I stood from the chair and Harry quickly followed.

I saw him carefully glancing at me on the drive home. "Harry. Seriously I'm fine. The nurse said there was absolutely nothing to worry about." "I know, I just feel bad for you know- hurting you." He replied, keeping his eyes on the road. I laughed "aw, you're such an empath."

When we got home Harry told me to sit down and so I did. After grabbing me some water and an ice pack he plonked himself next to me on the couch. I moved so my head was leaning on his chest. His hands gently raked through my hair and I slowly drifted off into a deep sleep.

You let out a sigh as your hands grip the sides of the sink in the downstairs bathroom of your friend Amy’s house that was currently filled with people who you haven’t seen or talked to in years, including an ex of yours that left you teary eyed and broken hearted the last time you saw him. You stand up straight and try to gather your thoughts as you look in the mirror and check to make sure you don’t look too disheveled.

“It’s going to be fine.” You mumble as you reach into your back pocket for your chapstick. “Maybe he left already…yeah he totally left already he doesn’t like parties especially house parties.” You just nod to yourself as you attempt to calm yourself down as you quickly apply some chapstick before putting it back in your pocket. “He’s not even that hot anymore and remember he couldn’t ever get you-”

“Uh as much as I love a good pep talk I do think you should save some of this for maybe when you’re not in a toilet with a random stranger?” You jump at the sound of a deep voice coming from behind you as one of your hands goes to your chest as you feel your heartbeat begin to quicken and your cheeks get hot.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry.” You blurt out as you quickly turn around so you’re facing the person you didn’t know you were currently sharing a bathroom with. “Uh why are you sitting in the tub?” You ask with a raised eyebrow as you take a closer look at the man and when you see an all too familiar mermaid tattoo on his forearm you run a hand over your face because of course out of all the people at this party you’d find yourself in a bathroom with Harry Styles.

“Much like the uhm man that you don’t think is attractive anymore I don’t care much for house parties and this is my favorite bathroom in the house.” Harry explains as he stands up and steps over the edge of the tub so he can reach his hand out to you. “I’m Harry by the way so we don’t have to be total strangers anymore.” You just give him a small smile as you shake his hand and introduce yourself.

“So hiding in the bathtub is your plan then?” You ask as Harry takes a seat on the edge of the tub as you lean against the sink.

“Obviously it’s not my most well thought out plan considering you were able to just burst in.” You roll your eyes as a playful smirk forms on Harry’s face.

“Burst in? I knocked twice and you didn’t say anything and the door was unlocked.” You explain with slight annoyance dripping from your voice as you motion towards the door with one of your hands making Harry chuckle to himself because even though he doesn’t know anything about you besides your name, for some reason he likes how your face looks when you’re annoyed with him.

“Like I said,” His voice is playful as he leans over and rests his elbows on his knees as he looks over at you. “Not my most well thought out plan.” He adds making you just nod your head in agreement because hiding in a bathroom at a house party, especially in the tub isn’t a wise choice considering he could’ve just hid in a bedroom or outside on the patio.

“Well since I’m here already do you mind if I borrow your hiding spot for a moment or two?” You ask as you take a small step towards the tub and motion to the empty spot next to him. He looks over at the spot and then turns and looks up at you and nods as he moves over to give you a bit more room to sit down.

“Who are you hiding from? The unattractive guy that hates house parties?” You just nod as you sit down with a sigh.

“He’s an ex and I know he’s probably wondering around out there somewhere and the thought of running into him just kinda makes me-”

“I get it.” You turn your head and look at Harry who is giving you a reassuring smile. “No one likes running into an ex.” He adds as he twirls one his rings around that he has on his index finger.

“Especially when nothing has changed on my end and I’m sure he’s gone off and done all these cool and amazing things and I haven’t even moved out of my shitty studio apartment he dumped me in.” You explain as you look over towards the bathroom door in an attempt for Harry not to see the embarrassment that’s written all over your face at your little confession.

“What if he didn’t know all that?” He asks as he stands up and takes a few steps so he’s now leaning against the sink and looking directly at you. “What if all he knows is you’re happily married?” You look around the bathroom as if someone else is going to magically appear as you raise an eyebrow at him as you stand up.

“Uh and who is it I’m going to be happily married to?” You ask as Harry looks down at his hands and begins to slide off his giant gold ring that’s in the shape of the letter S.

“Me.” You feel your eyes go wide as he reaches his hand out towards you. “He doesn’t need to know the details he just needs to believe we are together.” Harry ignores the expression of shock on your face as he grabs your left hand and slides his ring onto your ring finger.

“But you’re Harry Styles.” He just laughs as you state the obvious but you feel like it’s an important thing to say because he can’t be serious right now about wanting to go out there and act like a married couple.

“And for tonight you’re Mrs. Styles.” You just look down at the ring on your left hand and then back up at Harry who is giving you a grin that shows off his dimples.

“Fuck it.” Harry chuckles as you run a hand through your hair and readjust your top before taking a step towards the door. “Don’t touch my ass and I don’t like to be called babe.” Harry just nods as you give him some basics while he takes a step so he can grab the doorknob and open the bathroom door for you.

“Feel free to touch any part of me you like.” You playfully roll your eyes as you step out of the bathroom with Harry behind you and you suddenly realize how scandalous this looks to anyone who is watching. “Don’t worry my darling no one saw us.” You feel Harry’s breath on your neck as he leans down and whispers in your ear as if he could hear the thoughts that were going through your mind as he quickly grabs one of your hands and interlocks his fingers with yours so he can lead you towards the living room.

“Do you know anyone at this party?” You ask once he has successfully escorted you to the living room so you’re standing in front of an armchair that barely looks big enough for one person let alone the two of you.

“I know three people here.” He answers as he sits down in the chair and before you can say anything you feel his arms wrap around your middle carefully pulling you onto his lap. “And one of them just so happens to be my wife.” You roll your eyes as you attempt to get comfortable making Harry chuckle as he loosens his hold around you making it easier for you to get yourself situated in his lap.

“Who are the other-”

“I knew that was you.” Harry feels your body go tense as a man comes from the kitchen and stands in front of you and Harry. “Harry? What are you doing here?” He asks as he looks over your shoulder at Harry making your heart drop to your stomach because of course he doesn’t notice you when Harry Styles is sitting right behind you.

“Do I know you mate?” Harry asks with a questioning tone that makes the man standing in front of the two of you let out an awkward laugh as you look over to your left and out the window as you feel one of Harry’s hands grip your hip giving it a light squeeze letting you know Harry is well aware of who this man is.

“Oh sorry I’m just-”

“A fan?” You bite back a laugh as Harry raises an eyebrow at your ex who is now rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly with the hand that’s not holding a beer. “Usually I don’t mind meeting fans but I’m actually with my wife so you understand that I need some privacy right?” You smile as you feel Harry lean down and place a kiss to the top of your head before you turn and look at your ex who looks like he just saw a ghost. It took him all of ten seconds to register it was you sitting in Harry lap and his eyes dart from you over to Harry and then land back on you.

“You’re his wife? How did-”

“It’s a long story.” Is all you say as you look away from your ex and up at Harry who is already looking at you with a smile on his face.

“It’s funny this party is actually a lot like the one we met at isn’t it baby?” You laugh and turn your body a little so you can playfully swat at Harry’s chest allowing your ex to get a decent view of your ring finger.

“I just figured if you married someone like Harry Styles I’d at least read about it? How have you kept this a secret?” You feel panic begin to creep in at his question but before you can fully start to freak out Harry is gently giving your hips a squeeze letting you know he wants to stand up so you quickly stand letting him get up so you can take his spot sitting in the chair.

You can’t help but feel a bit relieved when Harry takes a sort of protective stance as he makes sure to stand in front of you so that he’s blocking your ex’s view of you. Because in this moment Harry has made the decision that he doesn’t quite like the man standing in front of him so he doesn’t really mind that he’s about to hurt his feelings.

“You can look at me not at her if that’s quite alright? I have a thing about strange men staring at my wife.” You don’t miss the harshness of Harry’s tone as he moves a bit so he’s now fully standing in front of your ex who’s mouth opens as if he wants to say something but then closes as his eyes finally meet Harry’s.

“Sorry I uh actually know her so it’s just shocking to find out she somehow secretly married-”

“It wasn’t a secret mate.” Harry cuts him off as he crosses his arms over his chest and sends your ex a hard glare. “We just told the people who actually mean something to us and sorry to be blunt but you say you know her yet I don’t even know your name.” You put a hand over your mouth to hide the little smirk that has formed on your face as Harry puts your ex in his place.

“Oh uh it’s-”

“It’s not really important but to answer your other question about how you didn’t even read about it.” Harry looks over his shoulder so he can give you a quick glance to make sure you’re okay before he looks back over at your ex who is bright red from embarrassment making you smile to yourself. “Well I am Harry Styles so I have my ways of keeping things private.” He adds with a smug smile as he looks over at you and shoots you a playful wink.

“Yeah that uhm makes sense.” Your ex’s voice slightly cracks as he speaks making him have to clear his throat, you take this moment to stand up causing Harry to step to the side to give you some space as he drops his arms from his chest so he can drape one over your shoulders and pull you into his side.

“Can we go outside for a bit H?” You ask as you look up at Harry making him just nod his head and move his arm from your shoulder so he can place his hand on your lower back.

“Of course love.” You smile at his choice of pet name as he gently applies some pressure to your lower back so you’ll start walking towards the back patio door. “If you see Jeff walking around give him your address and I’ll send you an autograph if you’d like?” You giggle to yourself as Harry raises his free hand up and waves to your ex as the two of you walk out of the living room. “Enjoy your night mate!” Harry tries to shout over his shoulder but it comes out more of a laugh as he opens the back door for you and you’re secretly sad you can’t see the look on your ex’s face because you’re sure it’s a mixture of absolute embarrassment and a little tiny bit of regret at the idea of letting you get away.

“Is it bad that I loved every minute of that?” You ask as Harry just laughs as you turn around and place your hands on his shoulders. “You were amazing.” You add making him smile.

“I mean I am an actor.” He says with a shrug making you playfully roll your eyes as you suddenly become very aware just how close you’re standing to him as his hand that was on your lower back has moved so now it’s loosely gripping your hip. “I’m going to have to call Jeff in the morning and fill him in just in case anyone else got an earful of that little story.” You feel a sense of anxiousness start to overtake you as you realize the situation you have put Harry in and it’s as if he can feel it because as you begin removing your hands from his shoulders he is quick to place his over yours keeping them there.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice is shaky as you look away from Harry. “This is going to be such a mess for you and-”

“It was my idea remember?” He states as he bends down a bit so he can look you in the eye. “It’s going to be fine I’ve had rumors going around that I’ve died before and besides what if I did just meet my future wife in the toilets at one of Jeff’s annoying friend’s house parties? That’s a story for the grandkids don’t you think?” He gives you a grin and a wiggle of his eyebrows making you chuckle as you rest your forehead on his chest and let out a long sigh as his hands go to your back and begin running them up and down in a soothing motion.

“You think Amy is annoying?” You tease as you look up at Harry who rolls his eyes as your arms are now loosely wrapped around his neck.

“Yes.” You laugh at how quickly he answers the question as he looks down at you and you watch his eyes flicker to your lips briefly before they make their way back up to your eyes and you know what he’s silently asking you so you just nod as an answer. You close your eyes as his hands come up and cup your face just a few seconds before his lips meet yours in a sweet kiss.

“You sure you want to tell the grandkids about this?” You joke as Harry pulls away making him laugh as he rests his forehead against yours as his hands fall from your face and back to your hips.

“We can leave a few things out.” He answers with a smile before he places a quick peck to your cheek before standing up straight. “Not to be too forward but seeing as you are technically my wife for the evening would you like to maybe get out of here and get some dinner? I know a great place down the street.” You smile as he brushes some of your hair out of your face. “So what do you say Mrs. Styles?” He asks after you take a few moments to act as if you need to think about your answer.