-> part 1: in which Eden is freshly graduated and spends her summer visiting her father who lives in Italy, and Harry is the older neighbor she'd told to stay away from
-> part 2: in which Eden returns to Italy after a year and she's not alone, and Harry realises what he's lost
the deal
-> part 1: in which Harry & Claire are both single parents and their little boys are best friends in school, forcing Harry & Claire to be closer than they'd initially like to be - until they strike up a deal
-> part 2: in which Harry & Claire have been together for a year and are navigating being together, being parents, and battling for custody of Atlas
-> part 3: in which the custody battle reaches its peak while Harry & Claire try to move forward in their relationship
something blue
-> link -> in which Harry & Lavender are best man and maid of honor at their best friend's wedding and don't get along whatsoever - which makes planning this wedding very interesting
_______________________________________________
NON FANFIC: informed consent (short story + one shots) 🍒
synopsis: y/n is the other woman who just wants to be loved
word count: 5.5k
contains: angst, not a super happy ending maybe it is depending how u see it idk, harry is kind of a dick, mentions of medication, mentions of mental health (anxiety, allusions to depression), harry definitely listens to the 1975 in this, smoking, friends with benefits situation, toxic relationship
. . .
"That's the ugliest piece of shit I have ever seen."
"Yeah,"
"I love it."
"You do?"
"I adore it."
"Good."
Harry sat against the headboard of her bed which took up the majority of his tiny bedroom in his even tinier apartment an hour train ride from central London. He was shirtless, his trousers were unbuttoned and his hair was a dishevelled mess. He had a cigarette between his teeth, Y/N hated the way the smoke made the room smell but she would never tell him that.
She sat up against the wall, her legs on top of his. She wore cotton underwear and his shirt, the buttons weren't done up, his gaze switching between his sketchbook and her breasts. Her eyes were fixated on the picture in the center of the white A3 pages.
She didn't know what it was but it was black and white and looked like skin. She wondered whether it was his skin but she wouldn't have called it ugly. She had seen every inch of his skin and the last forty-five minutes was proof of that. Her lips had pressed against the most intimate of places, she would know if it was his skin.
"What is it?" She frowned, tilting it to one side to see if a change in perspective would enhance its features.
"It's an areola," He responded, releasing a sigh, almost as if he was frustrated she didn't know he had taken a picture of a woman's breast.
"A tit?" Her heart began to race as she thought about him taking pictures of her without asking.
He chuckles and puts out his cigarette on her bedside table, leaning forward to throw it out of the window. "It sounds less artistic when you say it." He leans back again and reaches for a strand of her hair to play with. "But yes it is a tit."
'Who's is it?' She wanted to ask 'When did you take it?' 'Is she pretty?' 'Why not me?'
She could feel herself slipping away, wanting to cover herself up the more she questioned him in her own head. She glanced down at her chest briefly.
"It's not you." His words stung more than they should.
"I know that." She pushed the sketchbook away, not wanting to look at the picture of another woman's areolas. "What for?"
"We're doing the human form." He answers,
"Right."
"You're upset."
"I'm fine." She argued but the truth was she was upset and she hated the fact he knew that immediately.
He was good at hiding his emotions, he always had that sense of mystery to him, her not so much. She was sensitive and wore her heart on her sleeve. She was desperate to fall in love and when she did, she felt it to her very core, her chest would ache at the thought of being isolated from human contact. Sometimes she felt he took advantage of that but if she were to admit that, she would have to leave him and she couldn't do that.
She would rather die than be alone, especially if it meant being away from the one person to who she had developed an unhealthy attachment since they had met.
Harry's phone went off and he quickly reached across her to grab it from his side table. She felt like someone was pinching her all over as he bit back a grin at whoever had sent him a text. Suddenly being naked around him felt wrong so she quickly reached for her clothing that had been discarded on the bedroom floor.
"You're leaving?" He asks.
"Who is it?"
"It's nobody." She knew him long enough to know when he was lying.
"How long have you been seeing her?" Y/N wasn't going to cry, she wasn't, she really really wasn't.
Harry rolled his eyes, "You're being dramatic," He always tried to make it seem as if her feelings were too big for the space around them.
"You're a fucking jerk you know that?" She pulled her trousers up her legs and didn't even bother to button them up as she went in search for her shoes. "You show me someone else's tits as soon as we finish having sex? And then you get a text message and don't even tell me who it is?"
"I don't know why you're getting so upset we agreed long ago this was just a temporary thing."
"Oh I know you remind me that every time, I like to remind myself every day I'm just someone to pass the time." Y/N was used to being someone made to be used by someone else. She could be bleeding on the floor in the middle of the street and she wouldn't be surprised if someone took a plastic bottle and started filling it up with her blood in hopes it could save someone else before they even thought about rescuing her.
The problem was, she didn't even try to stop them. People entered her life and took pieces of her and carried them away with them, just to discard them later. Before she even thought about healing herself, someone else would come along and snatch another piece of her away.
That was the problem with people who were afraid of living with no love in their life, they were prepared to do anything for it. Y/N put too much faith in people despite the number of times she had been let down by the people close to her.
Harry was no different to that it seemed.
"What are you talking about? Hey," He grabs her wrist and pulls her into him, his eyes were sharp and for a brief moment, she thought she saw a flicker of emotion in his eye. Her heart pounded at the touch of his fingertips grazing her pulse. "What do you mean? You don't really believe that do you?"
"What does it matter? I know nothing about you Harry."
"You know more about me than anyone else does."
Sometimes it didn't feel like it.
Harry liked to make her feel special. He was good at it. He sent her texts during the day and brushed his hand against hers when they passed in the hallways. They'd come back to his place after a few drinks with friends in the evening, fuck, and be done with it. He'd send her away and act as if what they did didn't matter to him.
It mattered to her though. No one thinks that about a rebound or a person you had casual sex with but it always matters. She had never slept around until she had met him and now she was intoxicated by him because it mattered, right from the very beginning.
She closes her eyes and nods, "Please tell me who it was." She almost pleads with him.
"It's the girl in the picture, she's in my photography class." He admits.
"Do you like her?" Y/N almost whispers, she braces herself for the answer. She had been dreading the day he was planning to end this, she thought she would have more time.
Harry's head falls back like it kills him inside to give an honest answer to her question, "I really like her."
Y/N pushes him back and finally cries in front of him, "Go to Hell."
"Y/N-" He tries.
"No," She moves away from him quickly and reaches for the door, "And for what it's worth I lied, that is the ugliest piece of shit I've ever seen and I hate it. It's ugly and you are an awful photographer."
She was glad she got that out as she slammed the door behind her on the way out.
An hour later she called him.
"Harry, I'm sorry," She whimpers and sobs into the phone. It was an ugly, heart wrenching sob as she cried to him on the phone, "I didn't mean to upset you. I don't think it's ugly at all. I'm sorry,"
"Hey love, it's okay, it's okay," He comforted her.
"I didn't mean it Harry please forgive me I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry. Please, please, please, please." She said the words over and over again. Pleading for something that seemed like more than forgiveness.
"Y/N I forgive you, I promise. Please go to sleep." He asks her, he was worried for her but she had done this often enough he knew it wasn't anything serious.
"Promise?" She cries, sniffling.
"I promise,"
"Okay, I'm sorry Harry."
"I forgive you."
The call ended and Y/N lay back staring at the ceiling, her eyes burning from all the crying she had done since she got home from being with Harry. She turned over and took half a miligram of xanax and a sleeping pill, despite her doctor telling her not to, and fell asleep.
"Who was that?" Harry turned to look at the girl in the photo who was now lying on his bed. Her hair was flipped to one side, exposing her entire neck and collarbones.
"Nobody." He forced a smile on his face and walked over to her with his camera, the sounds of Y/N's pleading echoing in his head for the remainder of the night.
--
The next day, Y/N walked into the art room for her first class of the day. She took out her portfolio and sat at her table where she had been working on her next project. It was a painting she had been working on for the past few days and she wasn't near to being finished just yet.
Her eyes were swollen and red from having spent the majority of yesterday crying her eyes out. She skipped her therapy appointment and turned her phone off as she thought about how lonely she really was and how she had no one but herself to blame for putting herself in that situation.
Harry was also in this class but he hadn't turned up yet. The thought of him made her stomach twist. Picturing his smile as he told her about the girl he had been seeing, 'I really like her.' echoed in her head and she wondered what it would be like for him to say that about her.
"How's it going?" Ollie, a good friend of Y/N's, sat down at the easel and stool next to her and placed his backpack on the ground at his feet. He pulled out his pens and watercolor paints as he set up his station to paint.
"Fine." She muttered, reaching for her headphones in her pocket and putting one in her left ear.
"That doesn't sound good." He chuckled, shaking his head.
"I'm fine Ollie." She repeated, a little more hostile this time.
"Did you go to Harry's place yesterday? I tried to call you but it went straight to answerphone."
"What makes you think that?" She looked at him, tilting her head in curiosity.
"You have this look in your eye." He seems as if he doesn't want to go on but she waits for him to carry on speaking, "I don't know how to describe it... It's like someone's put light in your chest just to then suck the life out of you." He motions towards her painting, "Kind of like that."
She looked at her painting and stared at it. A woman sat in an empty room, a stream of light hitting her face from the window. Outside were people celebrating amongst vines and trees and flowers. The painting was a mixture of beiges and browns and green but the woman's eyes were black and lifeless... they were the saddest pair of eyes she had ever seen.
--
"Fuck," Harry groaned and fell on top of her, sweat beading his forehead as he left her and fell to her side. She lay there, staring at the ceiling, her mind was blank and her chest was heavy.
Harry reached across her for his phone, "Shit." He muttered, shifting to the end of the bed and jumping to his feet.
"What?" Y/N asked, sitting up, the blanket falling to her waist.
"I didn't know what time it was, I'm late for my class." He pulled up his trousers and ran his fingers through his hair as he went in search for a shirt to wear on his bedroom floor.
"Hmm." She sighed and fell back, reaching for one of his cigarettes and fiddling with it between her fingers.
"Are you going to smoke that?" He nodded towards the cigarette.
"Would you like me more if I did?" She replied.
He frowned, "I'd like you just the same."
She stared at him, he was so pretty. He had just gotten out of bed and his hair was a mess, his shirt had a stain on and his trousers were undone but he was so beautiful. She wondered if he ever thought that about her, whether she was beautiful despite the ugliness and mess.
Y/N reached for a lighter, lit the end of the cigarette, and inhaled the smoke.
She didn't seem to mind the way it made the room smell this time because it was a reminder that he had actually been there in her presence even just for a brief few minutes. She stared at the empty room where he once stood.
--
Y/N remembered when she first saw them together. It was a Friday night and all the art students spent Friday night at a bar in Camden Town. Y/N and Harry weren't in the same friendship circle but they had friends that knew friends and that was really how they met.
She sat with Ollie on a couch as everyone else played pool. She had taken three shots of vodka and was on her first drink of the night. The door opened and they both walked in hand in hand. The girl was stunning, her legs were long and thin, her hair was thick and wavy, her eyes were innocent and shone underneath the lights of the bar and her hand was intertwined with Harry's.
They caught eyes for a brief second before Harry turned away from her and went over to the bar to order them a drink. Ollie was talking about something she wasn't paying much attention to as her eyes stayed fixated on them.
She noticed the way his hand pressed against her back at the bottom of her spine and how he brushed her hair behind her ear as they leaned against the bar waiting for their drinks. How she smiled as he whispered something to her and bit her lip as he traced the back of her hand with the tip of his finger.
Y/N realised the Harry standing in front of her was someone she had never met before. It was strange how we never really know the people we meet as they choose to present themselves as someone else depending on who they are with. It's only when you're with your person that you can truly be your authentic self. She wondered which version of himself was real. She even wondered which version of herself was real, who she was with him or who she was without.
"I'm going to go over there." Y/N slurred, moving off the couch but falling back again as the room began to spin.
"Oh no you don't." Ollie pulled her back. "I'm not going to let you embarrass yourself like that."
"Why would I be embarrassed?" He looked at her like she was supposed to understand what he was hinting to.
"You'll forgive me in the morning." He said like he had done her some kind of favour.
She did.
--
"When are you going to take pictures of me for your class?" She wondered, playing with the ends of her hair on his bed as Harry fiddled with the strings of his guitar.
"You want me to do that?" He asked.
"Why not? I think it would be fun." She thought for a moment, "What would you choose to take pictures of?"
Harry pondered on the idea, thinking really hard to come up with an answer to her question. She bit her lip to hold back a smile. She liked the idea of him scanning his memories for parts of her body he had seen. It made her happy knowing that pieces of her were ingrained into his mind like lyrics to a song or the colours of the rainbow.
"Your eyes." He answered after a while.
She frowned, not expecting the answer, "What?"
"Your eyes." He repeated.
"That's it?" Her eyes were the only part of her he thought worth photographing?
"Yeah."
"That's boring." She muttered, falling back against the mattress.
"What makes you say that?"
"You took a picture of that girls boob and you've probably taken a lot more pictures since you like her so much." He cringed and set his guitar down to look at her properly. Harry knew he had to be careful with what he was saying, he could tell by the tone of her voice she was getting upset.
"Those were the only pictures I took." He argued, "And besides, I like your eyes."
"You never look into them." She retorts.
"Of course I do."
"You don't."
A beat of silence rested between them until Harry spoke again, "Maybe when you're not looking."
"Why would you look at my eyes when I'm not looking?" She wasn't understanding anything he was saying.
"Because I love watching you watch the world." He replied. "If I don't know how I feel about something I look at your eyes and everything makes sense. Sometimes it feels as though I'm understanding the world through you."
Her face softened, her heart settled in her chest. She felt warmth spread through her like she had just received a warm hug. The corners of her lips tugged upwards and she crawled over to kiss his cheek. "That was possibly the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me." She confessed, her heart expanding.
"Then you need to be surrounded by better people." He reached for his guitar. "Come sit here." He patted his thigh and she rolled off the bed to sit exactly where he asked.
He began to play a song on his guitar, gently singing the lyrics in a low voice. She rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck.
It was one of those moments she wanted to freeze and stay in forever. Nothing else existed outside of this bubble. Her heart was happy.
--
Ollie's birthday was January 23rd and he was having a house party at his flat.
"How many people are coming?" Y/N asked as she applied mascara in front of his bathroom mirror. She was crouched down inside the sink so she could get as close as possible to the mirror.
"I don't know, I invited about twenty and said they could spread the word to whoever was available." OIlie applied aftershave as he spoke.
"So everyone?"
"Possibly."
Y/N was excited to see Harry. Although they didn't speak much outside of the confinements of his bedroom, she was still looking forward to being in his presence. Ever since their intimate moment, they shared a few days ago, she had been longing for him. Her heart sighed in bliss at the thought of being near him again.
She wanted to wear something extra special that she thought he would like. Her hair was curled, which she never normally did, she wore black, leather trousers and a black corset to go with it and black heels to make her slightly taller than she really was. She accessorised with gold jewellery and had done her makeup in a much more simple manner.
"You look like that girl." Ollie spoke as soon as she walked into his kitchen.
"What girl?" She blushed.
"The one Harry was with at the bar the other night. I mean, the outfit is hot but you never wear your makeup and hair like that."
"Geez would it kill you to just say I look 'good'?" She mumbled, flicking her hair behind her shoulder. She never normally wore her hair down as it irritated her.
Ollie's face softened, she hated the sympathy on his face, "You look fucking hot." He said, pulling her in for a hug, "Don't let anyone change that." He whispered.
People began to arrive around 10pm. Ollie's apartment filled up rather quickly and Y/N was already on her third drink of the night. She was stood talking to a few of her friends from one of her textile classes until her eyes caught sight of the curly-headed boy she had been waiting for.
She smiled, excusing herself from the conversation and shifting through the crowd to get to him. "Harry hey," She beamed but then immediately felt her happiness slip from her.
"Hey Y/N," His eyes were wide at the sight of her, he was so used to seeing her in her natural form.
Y/N didn't reply as her focus was fixated on the girl talking to some other people. The girl he had bought with her. The girl in the photo. "Are you okay?" Harry asked when she didn't say anything.
"I'm fine." She forced a smile on her face.
"We're not staying long. I just thought I'd stop by to see Ollie." Her heart deflated at the use of 'we', they were a 'we' now.
"Right, I'm sure he'll appreciate it." She nodded, reaching for another drink.
"Are you sure you're okay?" He checked with her.
"I'm fine. I just need to use the bathroom." Y/N pushed past him and made her way to Ollie's bathroom which was surprisingly empty.
"Are you okay?" Someone asked her from behind as she was about to step into the bathroom.
She turned around and came face to face with the girl from the photo. She looked even more beautiful up close if that were even possible.
"I'm fine." Y/N muttered, it seemed as though that was the only response she was giving anyone nowadays.
"Harry sent me to come and see if you were okay." She said, even her voice was soft and gentle, "He was worried about you."
Y/N scoffed, "What he couldn't come find me himself?"
"He was trying to find Ollie I think-" The girl sighed, "If you're okay, I'll go back and tell him."
"Before you go...Can I ask you something?" Y/N could hear the voice in her head screaming at her not to say anything but she had to know, she needed to know.
"Go ahead." The girl seemed irritated by Y/N, like she was wasting her time.
"Do you know who I am?" Y/N could feel her eyes burn as she asked the question.
The girl from the photo frowned, confused by her question, "What?"
"Do you know who I am?" Y/N repeated but this time more sternly.
The girl from the photo looked at her, really looked at her, narrowing her eyes as if to get a better look. "I have no idea."
Y/N's insides felt as though they were bleeding. It was almost like Harry was the only one who was keeping her stitched together but now everything inside of her had come loose from that one reply.
The girl from the photo hesitated before saying, "I'll go and tell my boyfriend you're okay."
Y/N looked at her as she walked away, completely crushed. She walked into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind her, falling onto her knees and sobbing into her hands.
She hadn't realised how much power he had over her until this moment. How much she relied on him and how she couldn't picture her life without him. She trusted him too easily and that was nobody's fault but her own.
Her breathing began to pick up and she felt a strange sensation like pins and needles trickle along her skin. She pulled off her trousers and her corset until she was in nothing but her bra and underwear. She crawled into the bathtub and turned on the shower so cold water could reach her skin, all whilst hyperventilating and crying her eyes out.
This was unlike any pain she had ever felt. She wasn't sure why it had hurt so much but maybe it was because another person had used her, maybe this time it was because she gave every inch of herself to him and she had nothing but skin and bones left.
"Y/N are you in there?" His voice was muffled from behind the door.
"G-Go away." She whispered, rocking backward and forwards with her head tucked into her knees and cold water wetting her skin.
"I'm worried about you, love." His voice sounded so sad.
"Go away." She carried on chanting like this was a nightmare she wanted to wake up from.
She felt soft hands touching her shoulders and immediately looked up into green, sad eyes. For once Harry was easy to read as his eyes showed nothing but remorse.
He reached past her and turned the shower off, she was shivering and he reached for a towel to wrap around her shoulders in hopes it would provide some warmth.
They said nothing, Y/N didn't get out of the bath as it helped in providing a separation between them. "Why don't you love me like I love you?" She whispered. Her eyes looking into his, they were red and her face was stained with tears.
There was no point in denying things anymore, he was one of the only people who knew she was too clever for that, "I don't know," His head fell forward, he felt defeated.
"Why did you put me here?" She cried, "Why did you put me here if you were just going to leave me?"
"I-I thought you understood what this was. I thought-" He lied.
Harry knew Y/N better than anyone in her life. He knew better than to hurt her like this.
"Why does everyone leave me?" She whimpered, "Why can't I be loved?"
"Y/N-"
"Please tell me you love me. Please, please, please," She was begging him, crying into his shoulder.
"I-I can't Y/N." Never had her name sounded so disgusting coming from his lips.
"I don't know what to do anymore Harry. I-I would rather die than be alone," She sobbed.
"Y/N you're never alone."
"You're ending this." She cried, "I'm alone."
He couldn't stand having this conversation and not being able to hold her. He stepped into the bathtub fully clothed and sat in front of her, reaching for her hand and holding it gently in his. The feeling of his skin seemed to ease some of the pain she had been feeling, but the loneliness still echoed throughout her.
"I don't know why I can't love you, Y/N, but it doesn't mean I don't feel anything about you. You have become my best friend—"
"I don't want to be your best friend. No, no," she shook her head. "You've killed me once by admitting you don't love me. Please don't send me to Hell by calling me your friend. Do you know how painful that is? I just want to be loved by you. Is that too much to ask? I have given everything, I have given everything to you. I rooted for you in every way possible. I have killed myself trying to get you to love me, and I don't think I even know who I am anymore because of it."
Harry didn't know what to say. He was selfish and a coward and undeserving of her love, and he wished she could see that.
"Y/N—"
"Please just leave."
His eyes watered at the thought of going about his life without her. He could feel the air around them grow thick, his chest rising and falling as he tried to breathe in. He felt like he was drowning at the thought of her leaving his life. Despite not loving her in the way she desired, he realized he would also be alone without her.
Maybe that was it.
All along, they had just been two people dealing with loneliness and coping with it differently. One used the other to fill the gaps in the spaces where they felt most alone, and the other fell hopelessly in love in hopes it would change them. That was the true nature of it, and even if they were meant to be together at some point, now was not the time.
"Listen to me," Harry whispered, collecting her hands and holding them to his chest. "I'm going to leave."
She choked on a sob.
"I don't want to do that." She shook her head. "I just want to be with you." The thought of the loneliness seeped into her pores, and she didn't think it would be possible for her to stay afloat as she drowned in it.
"I'm sorry, Y/N," he said softly, tears streaming down his face. "I'm so sorry. I don't want to hurt you. I-I don't know what I'm doing."
She was taken aback by his tears and was unsure of what to do. It was the first time she had seen him cry, the first time she realized he was equally as afraid as she was. She leaned forward and wrapped him in a hug, allowing him to cry into her shoulder.
This was the end.
"I love you, Harry. I really do," she whispered into his ear.
He couldn't reply, so he just sobbed even harder.
--
The days hadn't changed so much when Harry stepped out of Y/N's life.
They didn't talk much during the day when they were friends so Y/N went about carrying on her classes and speaking to Ollie who she appreciated more than ever as he comforted her when she was feeling at her worst. It was Ollie who made the days feel... a little less lonely.
She missed his touches and texting him on her phone but she tried to come up with ways to cope with that by watching youtube videos or drawing so she wasn't tempted to unblock him and forgive him again.
The nights were the hardest. Y/N hadn't realised that the only reason she'd been sleeping was because of Harry. She had tried to not take sleeping pills to help her get to sleep but sometimes she'd spend the entire night just painting in hopes it would made her tired.
Since they had some of the same friends now, Y/N knew of Harry's ventures through word of mouth. He had broke things off with the girl from the photo the day after Ollie's birthday party. Turns out they weren't really in an established relationship and the girl did know who Y/N was because Harry never stopped talking about Y/N when they were together.
That made her smile.
He was an assistant to a wedding photographer on the weekends so that he could save up some money for his own studio. She was happy to hear he was actually making the most of his talent instead of wasting it like she had considered doing multiple times.
Other than that, the days went by rather slowly and nothing out of the ordinary happened. She had been on dates here and there and was in her first real relationship in her third year of University but that only lasted a few months. Turns out he was cheating on her the entire time they were together which felt like one step forwards and two steps back.
Y/N moved into an apartment in central London after she graduated and did some freelancing as an illustrator whilst working weekends at a hotel and the evenings at a bar in Soho.
Her life was mundane but she was okay with that. She had spent so much time focusing on others that she forgot to focus on herself. She had started going to therapy, the gym, and even became vegetarian for a little while. She was no longer taking Xanax as often as she used to and spent less time thinking about Harry.
She wondered what he was up to from time to time but in the end, she just hoped he wasn't alone.
Hi pretty!! I really hope I’m not bugging when I ask this, I’m just wondering. When do you think you’ll post part two of “switch” of informed consent on Wattpad, if you don’t want to answer that’s perfectly okay!!!
I absolutely LOVEEEE your writing, it genuinely takes me to another world and it’s so beyond words beautiful!! 🩷
hi!!!! such a sweet message, thank you so much ❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹 i haven't really started the next chapter!! i know how to 'resolve' the cliffhanger but i wanna add some more stuff in that i haven't thought of yet 😁 ideas are welcome!! it's definitely gonna a sweet chapter xxx
summary: all y/n wants is to be his and all harry wants is to keep her at arm’s length
10.8k words
warnings: angst!!! smut! harry gets a little frisky in this and not exactly in a good way? but nothing too bad i suppose.
a/n: this didn’t exactly go the way i wanted it to but…its something! please enjoy and let me know what you think!!!
part two
(Y/N) told Jace that something came up this weekend and she wouldn’t be able to meet him Saturday morning.
He was fine with it, telling her he hoped everything was alright and to have a good weekend. And that he still wanted to meet up soon. She can’t lie and say she didn’t feel a little spark of something ignite in her chest. He’s nice and she enjoys their conversations. She really will be looking forward to meeting with him.
Harry made sure that she called off work on Friday. Apparently, their flight was early, early Friday morning because he wanted to get wherever they were going as soon as possible. She didn’t mind it, but he still hadn't told her where they were going. When she asked what kind of clothes she should bring, he just said “dresses and shit” so that’s what she packed away in her suitcase that he reluctantly carried through the airport for her.
“Do you want coffee or something?” (Y/N) offered. They were in an exclusive airport lounge while they waited for their flight. It would only be an hour at most and they’d already gotten comfortable on one of the plush purple couches. She could get used to this, it beats sitting in the stiff chairs right outside of the terminal.
“Sure.” He shrugged, going back to his phone. He looked tired when he picked her up and she was just beginning to feel a bit of exhaustion creeping in too. From the long week that passed and from being a little nervous about what the weekend entailed exactly.
“How do you like it?” It was almost embarrassing to ask. She didn’t know something as simple as how he took his coffee and yet she was going god knows where with him. She didn’t put much thought into it beforehand. She never does.
“Plain is fine. Thanks.” He’s squinting down at a spreadsheet and she almost wants to snatch his phone out of his hand but instead she goes to get their coffee.
Thankfully, he was off his phone when she came back and took his cup from her with a small smile on his face.
“Can you tell me where you’re taking me?” And for what reason she wanted to tack on at the end but she’ll save that for later.
“Why? Nervous?” He raised his eyebrows, bringing the cup to his mouth.
“A little.” She admitted, keeping her hands snug and warm around her cup. It’s kind of cold in the lounge even though she had a light jacket on, so she moved in closer to his side.
“Don’t be. You’ll have a nice time, I’m sure.”
She shot him a look. He’s so set on being mysterious and it’s pissing her off. He doesn’t do things for no reason. And she wonders what has pushed him to do something as extravagant as this.
“Fine,” She dropped it, finally bringing her coffee up to sip on. “It’s cold in here.”
“Told you to bring a better jacket.” He muttered. He had a nice sweatshirt that looked especially cozy now that she was freezing. So she whined at him, pulling his arm around her shoulders.
There weren’t too many other people around, none that cared to look their way, so Harry pulled her closer so her head could rest on his chest and she sighed contentedly. He’s sweet when he wants to be. It’s almost worth putting up with the shit he puts her through. Almost.
Harry could no longer hide where they were going once they got to the gate. Their flight to San Francisco was puzzling to her and when she looked at him, silently asking what the hell was happening once they reached their lush first class seats, he shrugged at her, smirking.
It would only take about an hour to reach, so she spent her time gazing out the window, watching the sun rise. He was nice enough to let her have the window seat so she took advantage of it.
They landed and he led her to a rental car, once again carrying her bag, and he even grabbed a hold of her hand to keep her with him through the throngs of people crowding the airport.
He put their bags in the back and once they were both in and buckled, he was speeding off, away from the airport.
“I hope you like wine.” He commented offhandedly, earning him a slap on the shoulder.
“Seriously?”
“What? You don’t like wine?”
“Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“I’m taking you to Napa, (Y/N). Surprise.” He chuckled, sliding a pair of sunglasses on and settling back into his seat casually. She wanted to hit him again but she’s a little excited to go. Wine is nice, sure, and Napa always looked pretty in pictures. But him bringing her here with him is making her heart beat a little harder.
“You’re sweet.” She grabbed onto his free hand and squeezed.
“You’re sweet.” He turned his hand over to return the squeeze and actually kept his hand in hers. Then, making her chest feel a little tight, he held the back of her hand against his cheek. Like he finds comfort in her touch. She wanted to cry. If he could just tell her what all this means, she might actually be able to enjoy the weekend without overthinking every single thing he does.
The drive took a little over an hour and soon he was parking in the driveway of a gorgeous villa and then looking at her expectantly.
“Nap time.” He announced before pushing his door open and walking back to the back of the car. She followed, taking her bag from him and then letting him lead her inside. A nap did seem like a great idea after the early morning they’ve had.
The villa had high ceilings and an enormous kitchen she knew they probably wouldn’t even get to use. There’s a patio right off the kitchen that leads to a pool and hot tub. It was huge just for the two of them but she couldn’t be more pleased to spend the weekend with him here. She can only hope that everything goes well.
(Y/N) almost began unpacking in the upstairs bedroom when Harry took her suitcase right from her hands and set it aside.
“What?” She asked but all he did was toss his shirt off and make his way to the side of the bed.
“I’m tired, (Y/N), please. We can do that later,” She obliged and slid in the bed beside him after unzipping her jacket and kicking off her sweatpants. Immediately, his hands were around her, feeling over her smooth legs and running up over her stomach. “You’re happy here, right?”
“Mhm. It’s very nice, thank you.”
“Good. We’ll have a good weekend, okay?”
“Okay.”
****
For the first time, probably ever, (Y/N) woke up before Harry.
The bed beneath them was unbelievably cozy from the warmth of their bodies and just how comfortable the king sized bed was. They were squished together in the middle, one of his ankles wrapped around hers and his arm thrown over her back. Somehow she’d managed to push her way to his chest and they must have fallen asleep like that. She can’t really remember because as soon as she was under the silky sheets, she passed out. And it may have been the best sleep of her life so far.
Lifting her head, over his shoulder on the nightstand, she can see the clock displaying only a few minutes after noon. She laid her head back to his chest and just for a moment listened to the steady sound of his heart beat. She loves this. Being right here and under his arm. It felt right and she just couldn’t understand how he wouldn’t be able to feel it too. It was such an all-consuming thing but apparently that was one-sided and only happened to her. Part of her knows that he might be telling her a tale.
“Harry,” She quickly moved the hair from his forehead before he could know she did it and rubbed her hand soothingly over his shoulder. “Time to wake up, I’m hungry.”
“Just a little longer.” And then he was pressing her cheek back to his chest and resting his chin on her head.
“Harry,” She laughed, nudging his stomach. “I have to pee.”
“Well, hold it.”
“I can’t!”
“Fine.” He let her go and she slipped out of bed to run to the bathroom. When she returned, she climbed in the bed, right back under his arm.
“What do we have planned for the weekend?”
“Hmm. Lots. A couple wine tastings, maybe some golf—”
“Boring.” She cut him off and he rolled his eyes.
“You don’t have to play if you don’t want to but I bought you this tight little tennis skirt I want to see you in, so you’ll have to come along and cheer me on, I guess.” He grinned when she rolled her own eyes and pouted up at him.
“Fine. I’m gonna go get ready.”
“Not so fast.”
“What?” She whined, trying not to stare at him so intensely, but he’s being playful this morning and the fact that she woke up next to him for the first time, though it was only a nap, she was feeling a little giddy. She couldn’t help it. There’s just something about him that pulls her right in and refuses to let her go.
“Don’t go yet. Let’s stay just for a minute longer.”
“Why?”
“We could have a little bit of fun first.” He shrugged, propping his head up on his hand.
“Oh, is that so?” She mimicked him, placing her head on her hand as he shuffled closer to her.
“Mhm. Want you to sit on my face.” Harry has always been a little bit blunt but never like this. And they’d never done anything quite like this either. Sure, he’s eaten her out tons of times, but this was different.
“I…right now?”
“Right now,” He shoved the blankets from his chest and moved down the bed so he was laying flat on his back. “Do me a favor and take those off too.” His finger flicked the band of her panties and she batted his hand away. He didn’t seem to mind as he settled further into the mattress, looking at her expectantly.
(Y/N) can’t recall a time she’s ever done this or even thought about doing it, but the idea is enticing. But a little nerve wracking. Still, she carefully did as he asked and sat up on her knees once they were on either side of his head.
“I’ve never done this so…”
“That’s okay. Just don’t cheat me either. Need you to sit all the way down.” His hands grabbed at her thighs, pulling her that much closer to his mouth. She hurried to plant her hands on the bed above him to steady herself. Her legs were already burning trying to keep her weight off of him but he just kept pulling her down.
“But what if—”
“I want to, (Y/N). I can handle it, I’m a big boy.”
“Fine, but let me know if you need me to move.”
“I won’t.”
“Harry.” She gave him a pointed look.
“(Y/N).” He gave her one back.
“Fuck, okay.” She carefully lowered herself down to his mouth, still trying not to put her full weight on him just yet. She wasn’t sure how this worked so she wanted to ease into it.
Unfortunately for (Y/N), Harry is impatient and did not take kindly to her hesitations. And just as she was going to swat at his strong hands that kept pulling her and pulling her down, he was craning his neck to lick over her pussy. Her bones felt like they’d turned to jelly, causing her to relax into his hold and lean into him further.
She wonders if it hurts when she pulls his hair the way she does but she can’t help it. She also can’t help the way that her hips are unable to stay still over his tongue. One more thing she can’t help to think about is how he’s able to do this to her and expect her to harbor no affection toward him.
Especially when he worked two of his fingers inside of her and pressed into the spot he knows she loves. It leaves (Y/N) a proper mess, unable to do anything but tell him how good all of it feels.
“Take what you need, (Y/N).” Is all he said when he managed to lift her up the slightest. Only to say that and look up at her again, waiting for her to do as he said. So, she does just that.
His tongue laps at her slit as his nose repeatedly bumps against her clit while she drags herself over his face. She never imagined something like this feeling so good. It seemed more trouble than it was worth but now she can’t believe how wrong she’d been.
Just the thought of what she was doing was enough for her to cum with Harry’s fingernails dug into her lower back. Her arms went weak and she didn’t necessarily mean to do it but her cheek smushed against the mattress as she tried to pull her weight off of him. Only, he pulled her hips right back down to his face, working her toward another orgasm. This time though, she was able to hide her face away in the mattress and try not to sound so desperate to cum for him.
(Y/N) can barely see straight as he urged her over on her side, so he could look at her. She lost count of what he’d been doing to her, only encouraged by him telling her how well she was doing for him. When she blinked her eyes open to see his hair messy and his chin and neck covered in her arousal, she squeezed her eyes shut again.
“That was so…” She didn’t bother completing her sentence. He knew what he did to her, she didn’t need to inflate his ego any further.
“Yeah? You liked it?” His hand grabbed at her hip, gently pressing his fingers into her skin.
“Of course,” She opened her eyes to smile at him. “What about you now?” It was hard to ignore the bulge in his sweatpants but he just shrugged.
“Later. Let’s shower and get you something to eat.”
(Y/N) thinks that may be the first time Harry has turned down sex. And that concerned her. What good is she then if he doesn’t want her to touch him? That’s what their entire arrangement is. Maybe this is their last outing before he dumps her for good. She has no time to question him since he’s already up and on his way to the bathroom.
She didn’t want those thoughts to plague her the entire trip, so she let it go, along with the plethora of other questions she’s been dying to ask him since she met him. The answers don’t matter. She just wants to make it through the weekend as smoothly as possible.
He did tell her they had a wine tasting after dinner that she was a bit excited about. She doesn’t know much about wine, but maybe she’d learn something. And Harry’s presence was always something she was grateful to be in. Even if she is terribly confused about where they stand.
Dinner was in a breezy outdoor bar. There was live music, a delicious looking menu, and a few couples dancing in front of the small stage across from the tables.
Harry held her hand all the way to the table and even pulled her chair out for her. He was being so polite, she almost wanted to ask him what was wrong.
“Order whatever you want.” He didn’t have to tell her twice.
They were mostly quiet, as there really wasn’t much room for conversation since they were watching the band. Every so often, her ankle would brush his under the table but he paid no mind to it. He did ask her what she was thinking about ordering but that was the most they spoke.
Half way through their meal, (Y/N) was a bit tired of the silence, so she decided to speak up.
“We should dance.” The expression that took over his face immediately told her that that would not be happening.
“I’m not much of a dancer.”
“I could show you, it’s easy.”
“I think I’m good right here.”
She didn’t let that bother her. He didn’t have to dance if he didn’t want to. The couples that were dancing weren’t doing anything crazy, just swaying back and forth to the music, but if he didn’t want to, it’s fine. She tried not to look disappointed because she was very thankful to be there in the first place and she didn’t want to look like she wasn’t.
After Harry paid, they left the bar. The wine tasting was walking distance from the restaurant, so they were just going to take their time making it there. She brushed her hand against his, trying to hint to him that she wanted to hold his hand, but he just patted her on the back and shoved his hands in his pockets. Either he didn’t get the hint or he just completely shut her down. She doesn’t let that get to her either because she wanted to enjoy this time together.
“Harry!” Both (Y/N) and Harry froze when they heard his name behind them. Turning, there was an older couple a few paces behind them, both with friendly smiles on their faces.
“Hi, Walt. What are you doing here?” Harry was smiling as he went to shake his hand while (Y/N) tried to keep a pleasant look on her face. She just doesn’t want anything to get in the way of their trip and spending time with Harry. Not that this will, but she thought they’d been out of the influence of anyone in the city and Harry might treat her normally for once. Without the pressure of outside opinion.
“Who’s this?” Walt motioned to her and she panicked for a second before Harry spoke up.
“My friend, (Y/N).” That response almost made her roll her eyes but instead, she forced another smile and shook both of their hands.
Walt is a long time business partner and apparently, he comes to Napa often, and he’s only surprised he didn’t run into them earlier. His wife, Cynthia, was very nice and talkative. (Y/N) didn’t even have to say much as she rambled on and on about what they’d done on their trip so far and what was coming up.
“You’re here for the weekend, aren’t you?” Cynthia asked excitedly. “We’re taking the yacht out to the bay tomorrow with some friends that are also here. You two should come.”
Luckily, Harry spoke up so she didn’t have to.
“That sounds nice,” He glanced back at her, almost like she wanted to get her approval, but then he just looked away to finish ironing out the plans with Walt and Cynthia. Before long, they were waving them goodbye and continuing down the street. “You’ll like that, won’t you?” Finally, he grasped her hand between both of his. How could she tell him she only wanted to spend the weekend with him? That was the original plan, but she’s never been on a yacht before, so she let it go, not wanting to cause a problem.
“Sure.” She shrugged, trying to keep a smile down at the feeling of his fingers slipping in between hers.
The wine tasting left (Y/N) feeling a little floaty. Sure, the samples weren’t full glasses of wine, but they tried multiple and she didn’t know the alcohol would hit her like it did. Harry seemed fine. He only sipped his wine and didn’t finish off every sample like (Y/N) did, so he was just fine to drive them back to the villa.
He sat her down in the kitchen and gave her a glass of water after she complained of being thirsty. He held it to her mouth and wiped her chin when water dribbled down it after he pulled the glass away.
“Alright?”
“Mhm. I feel so much better, thank you.”
“You’re a good girl, (Y/N). You know that, right?” His thumb brushed over her jaw gently and she tried not to lean into it, but it was impossible considering the drinks she had. She’s much more malleable when she’s had something to drink.
“I know.” She nodded. She did. She just wondered why he wouldn’t choose her. (Y/N) is pretty positive by modern standards that she’d be any guy’s dream. Or maybe that’s the alcohol talking. She’s not sure, but she does know that Harry is severely missing out on all she has to offer him.
“Want to go for a swim? Or are you still dizzy?”
“Please. I would love to.” She stood off the stool and was about to leave him to go get her bathing suit when he stopped her.
“No need, sweetheart. Can just take our clothes off. No one will see.” He shot her a mischievous grin and walked to the sliding glass door, leaving her to follow after him.
In minutes, they’re both down to nothing and in the pool. (Y/N) was never nervous to be naked around Harry. He’d told her several times that he loved her body. While it was during sex most of the time, she took the compliment and ever since then, she was a tiny bit more confident in herself and her body.
She dipped under the water to wet her hair and when she came up, Harry was grabbing onto her and wrapping her legs around his waist.
“You know something,” Her arms hung lazily around him as she rested her cheek on his shoulder. She didn’t want to bring it up but again, drinking gives her mouth a mind of its own. “We don’t do anything that friends do.”
“What do you mean?”
“You told Walt I’m your friend but friends don’t…they don’t do this.” Right now was a clear example. If (Y/N) and Harry were just friends, their naked bodies would not be pressed together right now as he held her in his arms. That’s just not a part of the terms of a friendship and it’s only confusing her further.
“We are friends, (Y/N). You know that.” His arms dropped from around her when she pushed back from him, planting her feet on the bottom of the pool again.
“If you were my friend, you wouldn’t fuck me and you wouldn’t treat me so shitty either,” She watched as his expression turned tired, like he was exhausted by the topic already. “And if that’s what friendship is with you, I don’t want it. You’re so mean to me.”
It was all true. She didn’t know how to put it into words more simple than that. He was downright mean and he knew it. If he didn’t, there was nothing she could do to prove it to him.
“I’m not mean to you. I’m trying to set boundaries so nothing gets misconstrued. It’s for us to work out,” He emphasized the word us like it meant something. She knows better than to believe a word he says. And she could end it all here, but he’d stepped closer to her and wrapped his arms around her back. “You want us to work out, don’t you?”
Harry wished (Y/N) didn’t look so confused whenever they’d have this conversation. There is a lot of back and forth, even he can admit that. But he thought he’d made his intentions crystal clear from the beginning. It’s not his fault she’s let it get this far.
“I…I do,” She nodded, setting her arms over his shoulders once again. “Just be nicer to me. I don’t like it when you’re mad at me.”
Harry loves that she speaks so freely when she’s had the smallest amount of alcohol in her. All she wants to do is please him.
“Don’t think I’ve ever actually been mad at you, love. No need to be upset, alright?” He pinched at her waist again, feeling her lean right back into him.
“Fine. Now just please. I’ve been all day without you, I need it.” She whined, making him chuckle as she pretty much began to climb him to wrap her legs back around him. He doesn’t have to think twice about grabbing her up and pinning her back to one of the sides of the pool.
“I’m sure the owners will be pissed if I cum in their pool, so you’ll have to hold it all for me, won’t you?”
“Yes, please. I will.”
One of Harry’s favorite things about (Y/N) is that she’ll act like she’s dying to have only a taste of him. Like she’d be satisfied if he only kissed her or held her. While he doesn’t enjoy those things as much as having a warm cunt wrapped around his cock, he can appreciate them. They all have bright sides, he guesses.
But he just loves the desperately little look she gets in her eyes whenever he’s sliding his cock inside of her. She sighs, like she’d been waiting for ages for the feeling and then she talks him through the entire thing, letting him know how good he is, how big he is. It’s pretty much his own version of heaven.
He’s addicted to the feeling of her. He could admit that. Maybe not to her face but to himself at least. He’s been with countless other people and still, (Y/N) stands out somehow. He’s not sure what it is exactly but he knows that whenever he’s granted the privilege of fucking her, he’ll never be unsatisfied.
That’s why when he fucks her, nothing about it is soft. There’s a little resistance because of the water but it doesn’t seem to affect them too much. She’s still crying out and digging her nails into his skin.
He does the same, sucking marks into her skin that she’ll be unable to hide. Keeping a grip on her hips that will leave behind unmistakeable bruises. He hopes.
He hopes that if anyone in the next week or so gets a look at (Y/N) without her clothes on, they’ll know that she’s already being taken care of by someone else and that they shouldn’t even bother. Deep down, he wants to ruin her for anyone else. To have her think of him whenever she thinks she’s even close to orgasming. Because it’ll never be as good as he can do it.
That’s why when he came inside her, he holds her there, fucking himself deeper. To make yet another invisible claim on her. She wouldn’t know it, no one else would, but he would. And he’d always remember how they were.
“Hold it.” He told her as soon as he pulled out of her. He can’t save the pool completely, but he really is trying. Lifting her to sit on the side of the pool, she was still trying to catch her breath as he leaned down to collect his cum from her.
She softened in his grip again, latching her hands onto his hair and trying to keep quiet for the neighbors. When he pulled away, knowingly leaving behind some of his cum, he kissed her, sucking her tongue into his mouth so she didn’t go without a taste of him. And then he pulled away, watching as she blinked up at him with another content but sleepy look.
“I’m so tired.” She pouted, making a chuckle leave his mouth.
“Let’s head to bed then, okay?”
Harry get into bed that night with (Y/N)’s head tucked into his chest and her arm thrown over his back. He revels in the warmth. It’s nice for a change. But he doesn’t allow his thoughts to run off into a fantasy world. Where this could be his normal, with (Y/N) in his arms every night.
Instead, he just falls asleep.
*****
(Y/N) has never been golfing but she didn’t know it would be this boring.
She’s sitting in the golf cart, watching Harry line himself up at the start of only the fifth hole of eighteen and she’s already feeling like she wants to go to sleep. It’s another breezy day, thank goodness, so she’s able to sit beneath the cover of the golf cart, in the tiny tennis skirt he brought along for her, trying to keep a pout off her lips.
It wasn’t that bad. She’d just rather be doing anything else. Even watching paint dry might be more entertaining than this. As he was conversing with the poor caddy who had to follow them around, she swiped around on her phone, trying to find something to keep her from falling asleep.
Suddenly, a message pops up on the screen. From Jace, asking her what she’s up to. Glancing up at Harry, he was positioning himself for another swing, so she replied back.
She had to tell him that she was out of town visiting her dad and that she was terribly bored and he didn’t hesitate to offer her some entertainment.
Jace was funny and she tried really hard to stifle her giggling but it was only a matter of time before it caught Harry’s attention.
“Who’s that?” He asked, plopping down on the cart next to her. She locked her phone and sat it in her lap so she could give him her attention.
“Maria.” She lied easily. It was none of his business. She should’ve just told him the truth but she knew that would spoil the rest of the trip and they still had tonight on the yacht and whatever the plans for Sunday were. It just wasn’t worth having him blow up on her right now for something he had no right being mad over. But she knows him well enough by now to know that he would be pissed.
“Hm. Want a turn?” He nudged her side.
“I don’t know…I’d probably be really bad at it.” She didn’t think he’d even ask and she wasn’t too interested in trying but still she let him guide her through a swing that was probably the worst he’s ever seen, but he still smiled and patted her on the back.
“Good try.” He laughed when she narrowed her eyes and took the driver back from her.
“Are you almost finished?” (Y/N) didn’t know if he’d allow it but she opened her arms and leaned into his side, clasping her hands at his middle. He actually embraced her back and squeezed at her shoulder.
“Not even close.”
“How much longer?” She pouted up at him.
“An hour or so.” He pinched her bottom lip before kissing her quickly, not even giving her enough time to react to it. And then he let her go and stepped in front of her, positioning himself to swing again. She went back to the cart and back to scrolling on her phone, bored, once again.
Harry couldn’t keep his hands off of (Y/N) when they got back to the villa. He knew that skirt would be a good idea. He hadn’t intended on fucking her in the skirt per se but it just happened as soon as he had her near the couch.
Wanting to redefine the marks he knew were bruised into her hips, he kept his grip tight and unwavering. Because he knew if he saw (Y/N) with bruises like the ones he’s given her, he’d know exactly where they came from. And maybe that will be enough to discourage anyone from getting near her.
She came twice before he sent her off to shower. He followed after her with every intention of joining but when he passed through the kitchen, (Y/N)’s phone was buzzing against the counter top repeatedly.
He debated within himself for a moment. He was curious about who she was giggling over earlier and he knew it wasn’t Maria. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to know who it really was because he doesn’t know how he’ll react to it. It could be that guy from the app and that would thoroughly piss him off…now he needs to see who it is.
Picking up her phone, he tapped the screen and entered her password. He honestly didn’t care if she came downstairs and caught him because he’s going to ask her about it anyway.
The screen was flooded with flirty messages and the cute little emojis she no longer uses when she texts him. She can’t wait to see this guy and she just loves talking to him. They have so much in common. So much so that instead of messaging in the app, he now has her phone number and has been texting her that way.
With one last scroll, he locked her phone, taking a second to gather his thoughts. It enraged him that she’s giving anyone else the time of day. Especially when he’s brought her all the way here and this is how she repays him for it. Talking to another man about how cute he looks in photos and other shit he wants to forget he saw.
Just then, he heard (Y/N) begin down the stairs and he thinks for another long moment about how he wants to go about this. There are several ways but he doesn’t know which is best to get his point across. So, he does the only thing he knows how.
(Y/N) didn’t see Harry in the bedroom, so she went downstairs to find him. With only a quick search, she sees him in the kitchen with his back to her. She couldn’t contain her smile, still feeling the utmost bliss from the sex they just had. He treats her so well in that aspect of things, she just wished he’d let it overflow into others.
“What are you doing?” She asked, just about to wrap her arms around him and lean against his back. But he turned around before she could get close enough.
“What’s this?”
She saw her phone in his hand. And if she squinted hard enough, she could also see her messages with Jace pulled up on the screen.
“What?” It was a genuine question. Did he want an explanation because she knows that he knows exactly what he’s looking at. And to be completely honest, he doesn’t deserve an explanation.
“Who is this guy?”
“Why are you going through my phone?” She crossed her arms.
“This is who you were talking to on the course then. You lied to me,” A sardonic grin overtook his face as he looked down at the screen again and started to scroll. “You’re just dying to meet him, aren’t you?”
Reaching for the phone, he turned so his back was to her so she couldn’t grab it from him.
“Harry. That’s none of your concern.”
“And you just think he’s so funny, right?” He walked to the livingroom with her following, trying to reach her arms around him and grab the phone. He’s probably seen all he needs to see, so even if she did grab the phone, it wouldn’t matter.
“Stop it. Give me my phone now!” It was an invasion of privacy, him looking through her phone. And trying to confront her about what he saw was really pushing her over the edge.
“What the fuck, (Y/N)? Huh? Look where you are right now and you have the fucking nerve to talk to this guy? After all this?” He gestured around them, his features angry now. His grip had tightened on her phone when she finally caught a hold of his wrist since he’d gotten distracted by telling her off.
“So, what? You’re just the guy I’m fucking. Thank you for bringing me here, but I never asked you to.” Jerking his arm away from her, he looked down at her like he was disgusted by her. Like he felt betrayed. And she wasn’t sure what to make of it quite yet.
“I’m just the guy you’re fucking? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Give me my phone right now.” It pinged in his hands and once again, a sick smile spread across his face.
“Should I tell him to fuck off? That’d be good, wouldn’t it? You don’t fucking need him anyway,” Just as he got ready to type something, she lunged for her phone again. “You want this so bad just so you can answer your little shitty boyfriend back, huh? Well, I won’t fucking allow it.”
(Y/N) froze when he threw her phone right over her shoulder, the screen shattering when it landed on the floor behind her. Her hands covered her mouth as she looked at the mess he’d just made. She didn’t know if the phone was ruined or not but the fact that he tried to break her phone is speaking fucking volumes.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Hurrying to her phone, the screen was cracked, and after pressing the button on the side, she saw it light up, thank goodness. She could only hope the screen worked to the touch because she wasn’t sure she wanted to be here with him anymore. Especially if he was going to act like this.
“What the fuck is your problem? That’s the fucking least you deserve right now, (Y/N). Who the fuck do you think you are?” His hands grabbed at her shoulders like he was demanding an answer while he still looked infuriated.
(Y/N) took a second to breathe. She could shove him away and scream back at him. Just like she normally would, which is exactly the type of reaction he wants. Or she could walk away now and leave all this behind. This mess, the drama of it all. It wasn’t worth it. None of it was worth this.
Deep down, underneath whatever facade he has on, he wants her to fight for him. Tell him how much she loves him and cares for him and how she didn’t really mean it. That she’s sorry and it won’t happen again. And then they’d fuck to make it up to him.
She’s done that a million times already. And none of those million times has fixed anything. Temporarily, yes, but in the long run it does nothing but give Harry the upper hand. And she’s so tired. So, so tired of all of this.
“You’re scaring me and I want to go home.” (Y/N) could barely speak the words. She’d never wanted to go home when she was with him. Never. And he’d never scared her before. But now that he’s ruined her phone and is yelling at her again, it’s too much to process now. All she wants is to go home and be as far away from him as possible so she can have some time to think.
It was unnecessary. All of it. She wondered why he thought he could question her in the first place. If she ever tried to touch his phone or interrogate him over messages she saw, he would shut down and tell her that they were nothing and she was out of line for asking. But she knew she couldn’t do that.
Around this time normally, she’d be in tears but she can’t even force them to come on. She knew this might happen one day, she just didn’t think so soon.
“That’s too fucking bad, isn’t it? We have plans tonight and you’re going to have to get over yourself.” Get over yourself. More times than she can count, that had been his response to her expressing herself. And she was done with him using that as an excuse rather than giving her an answer.
So, she walked away, leaving him alone in the middle of the kitchen with her destroyed phone and hopefully his own thoughts. She shut herself in the bedroom and put her head in her hands.
She’s not sure how she’ll make it through the rest of the weekend but she prays she won’t have to spend it speaking to him. She’ll get through the yacht with Walt and Cynthia and then she’ll go home and put all of this to rest for good.
It’s for the best.
****
If (Y/N) had been given the Harry she came to Napa with, she might tug on his hand and whisper to him about how out of place she feels with these people on this yacht.
She’s very aware that he wouldn’t do anything to quell her anxieties, he never does. But maybe he’d just shoot her his version of a comforting smile and go back to ignoring her. And that might’ve been enough to soothe her for the rest of their time on the yacht. She could convince herself that that was the way he showed her he cared. In small doses, in barely there comforting touches.
But she’s stuck with the brooding Harry. The one who tossed a pink dress on the bed for her to wear without a word and then disappeared again. The Harry that pretended everything was smooth sailing just to keep up appearances in front of his friends.
She tried to keep her face pleasant for his sake. The last favor she hopes she’ll ever do for him. But it proves to be hard. She wanted to go home but without a functional phone, she can only rely on Harry and she hates every second of it.
“(Y/N)! You have to tell me where you got that dress from!” Cynthia had too many drinks already apparently. Too many before they even left the marina but (Y/N) is still polite and tries to keep the conversation flowing with Cynthia and the two other ladies who are around her age.
“Where did you pick up that pretty little thing, Styles?”
(Y/N) barely heard that over the sound of Cynthia clinking glasses together again with the other ladies. She strained to hear his answer, unbelievably curious to what his response would be to that dumb fucking question.
“I don’t have any trouble there, Vince. Don’t worry about it.”
“But really! The red head you had a couple summers ago was unreal—”
She tuned the rest of the sentence out, surprised that their wives could listen to them talk like that and not be bothered by it.
The yacht was big enough that when she excused herself for the ladies to take a moment to herself, she could walk to the back of the ship and the sound of everyone on board faded when she got far enough. She sighed as she leaned against the railing, watching the waves glittering in the moonlight.
All (Y/N) has ever wanted was to be happy. And loved. She just didn’t know why she couldn’t have both at the same time. She thought they went hand in hand but it’s apparent now more than ever that that will never be the case.
She knows that when they get back to LA that this is over. It has to be for the sanity of both of them. She can move on and forget she ever met him. It’s her only option.
“Where’d you go? You’re enjoying yourself, right?” Walt. He walked until he was standing against the railing like she was.
“Oh, yes. Very much. This is all so nice, thank you for having me.” It was nice—even if she couldn’t stomach sitting anywhere in Harry’s vicinity at the moment.
“No need to thank me, I’m glad to have you,” He was friendly as far as (Y/N) could tell, so she stayed where she was. She’s not sure where the conversation is going but if it gets weird, she can just excuse herself back to the front. “I’ve known Harry for a long, long time you know.”
“Oh, right. I think you mentioned that.” (Y/N) really wanted to ask the guy what’s wrong with him. Why is he the way he is, what happened to him. Instead, she stayed silent and kept her eyes on the water.
“He’s…different. Isn’t he?”
“Yeah, you could say that.” She almost scoffed. Different really wasn’t the word for it. He’s a dick. She liked that description much better. Different was almost a positive thing. And there really wasn’t anything positive about him.
“He’s tough. But if you keep working at him, he softens up a bit. It takes time though, trust me. A long time, but it happens eventually,” He finished off the drink in his hand and faced her. “I can tell he’s put you through a lot. You can barely look at him tonight.”
“Yeah. I think…I want to be done when we get back home,” (Y/N) isn’t sure why she’s disclosing that to him but it felt right in the moment. “Don’t tell him I said anything.”
“I won’t,” He reassured her, a small smile on his mouth. “That will crush him, you know.”
“No,” She chuckled. “Half the time he wants nothing to do with me and I want more than he is willing to give.”
“He has a lot to give. He just doesn’t want to take the risk.”
“Did he send you back here or something?” She asked, squinting at him. It was like Walt was trying to get her to change her mind even though he understood where she was coming from. Harry doesn’t deserve another chance but for some reason, he seems to be vouching for him.
“No, I just wanted to encourage you a bit. He needs someone like you and he’ll realize that sooner than later.” Walt parted with that, nodding at her and giving her a pat on the shoulder.
She sighed, leaning on the rail again. What Walt said isn’t going to change her mind. She deserves more than she’s getting from him and as of now, Harry’s lifestyle isn’t going to change that drastically in the time frame that she needs it to. He has plenty of other numbers he can call if he’s lonely. He’ll be fine.
Harry and (Y/N) went to bed that night quietly. They showered separately and (Y/N) hurried into bed and turned away from his side before he was out of the bathroom.
He laid down and shut off the lamp next to him. Their flight was early again so they’d be home in no time and that would be it. She’s not sure if she’s going to tell him it’s over or just ignore him until he gets the hint. He crossed the line this weekend and he has to know that she’s not going to put up with that. It’s getting old.
“I’ll buy you a new phone.” He spoke up for the first time all evening. She felt his hand brush the back of her arm, making her jerk away from him.
“I don’t want you to.” The screen was cracked but she didn’t necessarily need a new one. She could pay to get the screen replaced but that’s about all the money she had to put towards it. A new phone would set her back too much.
“Come on. Let me?” His chest was against her back suddenly and she rolled her eyes. She’s not giving into him. It’ll only put her back at square one and she’s fucking tired of being there. It’s doing nothing for her. “(Y/N), babe. I didn't want to throw it like that, I was just a little upset.”
“A little?” She elbowed him, trying to get some space between them. “You fuck whoever you want, whenever you want, but the second I have an innocent conversation with another guy, you freak the fuck out and act like I cheated on you or something.”
She wasn’t asking for an explanation for his behavior. He’d never give one. She was simply just telling him exactly how he acted because it sounded ridiculous when she said it out loud.
“I’m pretty sure none of the girls I sleep with are sleeping with anyone else, so it’s better that way.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel good?” This time, she had to turn around and look at him through the darkness of the room. His cheek was resting on the edge of her pillow, that’s how close he was. And his hand was running over her side soothingly, like it was actually doing her a favor. “I don’t know if you really don’t care or if you’re that stupid.”
“Well, I’m not stupid.”
“You need professional help. Do you know that?”
“Come on, (Y/N).”
“Something is seriously wrong with you. You don’t have an empathetic bone in your body because if you did, you’d realize what you’re doing is hurting me.” Her voice broke and tears were on their way to her lash line. She didn’t want to cry but it was inevitable around him.
“Don’t cry right now, please. We were supposed to have a good weekend.”
“You ruined it because that’s all you’re good at. Ruining our weekend and ruining my life. Just…when we get back, I think we need some air. This isn’t working anymore.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Which part? I can assure you I meant both.”
“You love me. You don’t want to leave me.”
“Sometimes love isn’t enough, Harry.”
For just a moment, Harry considered telling (Y/N) that he hasn’t slept with anyone else besides her in a year. He wasn’t interested. He wasn’t quite sure what it meant but whenever he had sex with anyone else, he’d imagine it was her. So, he figured he might as well get it from her if she was the only one that could get him off anyway.
But he doesn’t. He let her turn back over to face the wall and pull herself further and further away from him.
Maybe she is right.
****
As it turns out Jace is just as handsome in person as he is online.
YN is supposed to be listening to a story about him going fishing with his grandfather when he was younger but she hasn’t been able to stop staring at him.
He’s been smiling pretty with perfect teeth ever since she met him in the cafe and he even hugged her before she sat down. He’d asked her how her trip went and actually looked like he cared about her answer. That was different.
“Hopefully I remembered correctly but you like sweet stuff, right? I ordered you one of those blended coffee things with extra caramel,” He pushed the cup toward her. “But if you want something else, that’s cool. I’ll drink it.” He seemed a bit nervous about getting her drink order wrong but to her surprise he’d ordered something she’d drink.
“No, this is perfect.”
When Harry and (Y/N) got back to LA, not a word was spoken between them. Not in the fancy airport lounge, not on the plane, not in the car on the way back to her apartment. Nothing. She carried her own bag the entire time, not giving him a chance to hold it for her. Not that he would have but still. She didn’t want his help.
She got out of her car with her bag and slammed the door behind her, hoping that that would be it. Closing the door on him to find something better.
That was until she received a package in the mail the next day. A new phone. She called him on her broken phone and cussed him out for thirty minutes and the only thing he did was laugh. It infuriated her.
But she let it go. If he wanted to buy her the newest phone to replace the broken one, sure. She’d take that last gift from him. And then she blocked his number with every intention of never unblocking it. It would pay off in the end, even if he showed up at her door trying to persuade his way inside. Which he did. Only a day after the phone.
“I know you’re home. Let’s talk. I have something to tell you.”
(Y/N) is smart enough to know that that’s bullshit so she pretended she wasn’t home and sat motionless on her couch, afraid to move just in case he heard her.
Which leads her to now. A date with Jace during the week. Just something quick to meet each other in person. It doesn’t have to mean anything but it’s a start. To get herself back out there and over the man she’s been stuck on for two entire useless years.
“Do you want to go on a walk after this?”
The sun was setting as they made their way to the sidewalk outside of the cafe. Just talking was nice and not normal for her. Usually, she would’ve been in his bed by now and he’d be telling her to get out as soon as he’d finished. But Jace was a gentleman and she couldn’t help comparing the two in her head.
Harry was definitely more broad than Jace. A bit taller and a more structured face. And Jace didn’t look intimidating in the slightest. But she liked that about him. He looked sweet and he was. He smiled a lot and gave a fuck about what she had to say. He didn’t brood and didn’t talk about how eager he was to get home so he could sink inside of her. That wasn’t even a thought. Well, he didn’t come off that way at least.
Once she agreed to the walk, he’d grabbed her hand like it was natural. He didn’t look around to make sure no one important saw him touching her. He just grabbed her hand without a care in the world and squeezed it lightly, smiling at her.
“You don’t mind, right?”
“No, please. I like holding hands.” She did. And it was a shame she never really had the chance to do it before with someone who wanted to hold her hand too.
With the sun no longer in the sky, it had started to get chilly. (Y/N) didn’t think to bring a sweater or a jacket because it was only just the beginning of the end of summer and she didn’t expect it to be this cool out. She’s pretty sure she shivered once and Jace was already tugging off his sweatshirt and helping her slide it over her head.
“I’d really like to see you again. You’re beautiful and smart and fun to talk to. I’d like to get to know you better.” Jace had said once they were about to part for the night. He still held her hand with an unwavering grip. It was almost dark now and he’d walked her all the way home even though his car was back at the cafe. It wasn’t a far walk but it’s the thought that counts.
“I would like that a lot.” She beamed at him and he returned it.
“Thank you for coming to meet me. We’ll talk soon, right?”
“Right. Have a good night.” She couldn’t help it. When they went in for a hug, she kissed his cheek. His cheeks went a little pink as he stuttered another goodbye and she giggled to herself as she walked into her building.
As (Y/N) got ready for bed, she stopped upon seeing Jace’s sweatshirt still settled over her body in the bathroom mirror. And she’s not sure why but it was enough to have her in tears. This is the kind of relationship she had been deprived of. Harry would never do something as simple and considerate as passing off his jacket to her because she caught a chill. The thought wouldn’t even cross his mind.
There was no reason to cry over it but still. She let herself anyway. To release all of her pent up anger and sadness from the past two years.
That night she slept peacefully. Only a text from Jace lighting up her phone, telling her to have sweet dreams.
****
On Thursday night, (Y/N) received an Instagram message.
ThatBitchBecca: Hi (Y/N)! Harry would not would not give me your phone number so I had to find you on Instagram.
ThatBitchBecca: I hope you don’t mind! I was just wondering if you were still coming to that event tomorrow.
(Y/N) had totally forgotten about it. And Harry never mentioned it, so he obviously doesn’t want her there. Not that she would go anyway. She doesn’t want to see him.
Y/N: Hi Becca! I don’t mind at all! But I don’t think I’m going to come. It’s not really my scene.
ThatBitchBecca: And it’s mine? Girl please. Don’t leave me alone with those people.
(Y/N) laughed to herself. She was at work currently, definitely supposed to be working but Becca is too funny.
Y/N: Harry and I aren’t really speaking right now. I doubt he would want me there.
ThatBitchBecca: GIRL FUCK HIM!!!!!
ThatBitchBecca: Omg don’t tell him I said that! I like my job!
ThatBitchBecca: You’re my guest and I already have a dress picked out for you. He can’t say anything. Everyone is allowed to have a plus one. So come onnnnn :’(
ThatBitchBecca: Just come to show him how hot you are and ignore him. That’ll kill him.
And it may be a mistake looking back. But Becca is right in a way. She was invited so she just can’t not go. It wouldn’t be the polite thing to do. She isn’t sure what the event is for but if Becca already has a dress for her, there isn’t much she can do to get out of it.
And showing Harry what he’s missing one last time wouldn’t hurt, would it?
Y/N: Fine. Send me pics of the dress.
Becca sent over a picture of the stunning dress she’d picked up and when (Y/N) got off of work, they met up so she could try it on. It fit like a glove, of course, so there really was no getting out of it.
“He’s been so in his feelings the past couple of days, I don’t know what’s gotten into him.” Becca commented casually as they sat at dinner. She was super nice and they kept up good conversation, so she didn’t mind. But her being Harry’s assistant came with information she’d much rather not have.
“Good for him,” She rolled her eyes. “He’s been having all kinds of girls come up, hasn’t he?” It’s only been days but (Y/N) knows how Harry is. He’s never satisfied.
“No? What girls?” Becca looked genuinely confused. “I only ever hear about you, (Y/N).”
“Okay, so he doesn’t bring them to the office then. Right.” It would be naive of her to think that he’s acting the way he is because she’s not been talking to him. He’s not the type to do that.
“I don’t know about that but he was literally asking me what flowers to buy you the other day.”
“Flowers? I never got flowers.”
“Yeah because he freaked out and shut himself away in his office for the rest of the day. He doesn’t know how to go about apologizing to you,” She shrugged. “He didn’t tell me what happened, you know. I can just guess that he’s been an asshole and you’re not as forgiving as he’d like you to be right now.”
This conversation was too much to think about. It made no sense so she tried not to dwell on it now. She’d save that for before bed.
“Pretty much. I can’t do it anymore. I’m exhausted with him.” She rubbed at her eyes, feeling tired just thinking about it.
“Well, I won’t let him bother you tomorrow, so don’t worry about him. We can just have fun at the open bar and look cute.
And that had been the plan. She’d dressed up in the shimmery purple dress Becca picked out for her and did her makeup just right and tried to take deep breaths her entire way there. She got an Uber because walking in heels would be awful so it really didn’t take long to get to her destination.
She was nervous about seeing him, just because she had a feeling she knew how he’d react and it wouldn’t be good. But still. Even if it was just to mess with his head a little bit, he deserved it. And she had every intention of ruining his night like he’d done to so many of hers.
When she stepped into the building, another wave of nerves hit her. She could still go home and avoid this entire thing. It was probably the best thing for her. Not to see him again so soon and cause anything to stir up. But it was too late. She just stepped into the area where everything was happening.
There was a small live band playing music softly that complimented the sound of conversations around her nicely. A few people at the bar and mingling around. She quickly searched the room for Becca but before she could find her, a harsh grip was pulling her backwards.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Harry. And he looks livid.
“What are you talking about?” Usually when he’s mad at her, she’d be in tears but she tried to play it cool. He’s not going to mess this up for her.
“This is a company event. Why the fuck are you here?” He tried to keep his voice low but she could tell he wanted to scream at her like he enjoys doing so much.
“I can do whatever I want.” She ripped her arm from his, wanting to walk around him but he was right back in front of her, preventing her from going any further into the room.
“I don’t want you here. Go home.” He said through gritted teeth, taking a hold of her arms again and gently trying to usher her out of the room.
“You can’t kick me out, I can be here if I want to.” She shoved his chest this time, not caring if it caused a scene. And it sure did because before Harry could say much more about how much he detested her presence, a woman, the same one that she caught running from his apartment some weeks ago, walked up beside him and rested her hand on his back.
“Who’s this?” She looked at (Y/N) with a hesitant smile. She must remember that time just as well as (Y/N) does.
“Nobody,” His hands finally let go of her and she stepped back away from him. (Y/N) watched as the woman, who was older than her, probably around Harry’s age, wrapped her arms around him like she had some sort of claim. And maybe she did. A lot can change with him in a matter of hours. She should’ve expected he’d have a date to this but it didn’t make her feel any better. “She was just leaving.”
“Oh, my goodness, (Y/N)! You look so gorgeous!” Becca appeared out of thin air and hugged her tightly. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Thanks, Becca.” (Y/N) is glad that Becca is here now so at least someone is in her corner.
“Hi, Mister Styles,” Becca turned to Harry with a wave and looked between him and the woman. “Interesting.”
“Quite. (Y/N) is leaving right now, I don’t know why she’s here—”
“And why would she do that?”
“Because. I don’t want her to be here. She’s not on the list.”
“With all due respect, sir. I invited her and she’s staying. Sorry.” Becca, looking the least bit sorry, stepped around him and held her hand out for (Y/N).
She knew that Harry would catch her at the end of this event and chew her out but right now, the look of pure outrage on his face is worth all of it.
“Right,” (Y/N) grabbed Becca’s hand. “With all due respect. Get out of my way.”
She passed him, bumping her shoulder into his, and started for the bar with Becca. And she didn’t look back once. She didn’t need to because she knew he wouldn’t take his eyes off of her all night long.
***
Hiiiii this was a bitch to write 😄 hope you enjoy! more to come!
Hi! I just finished petal and I loved it so much. I just can’t imagine ever forgiving Harry if I was violet😭 do you think they would ever have kids in the future maybe trough surrogacy? I feel like violet would be such a great mom.
😭😭😭 same, petal harry was soooo bad!!! idk about them having kids, tbh, i never really thought of it. i could see them maybe fostering/adopting down the line? i started a petal rewrite btw because the original book makes me cringe sooo bad hahahaha
home for christmas - part one (*) // informed consent one shot (3)
!! this series was originally harry styles fanfiction, i edited it and changed his last name :)
Description: a series of one shots following 'informed consent: short story' -- in which mia and harry go visit his parents to introduce mia for the first time and spend the holidays togetehr
“Is this too risky to wear when you meet your boyfriend’s parents for the first time?” Mia mused out loud as she held up a pair of slacks.
Hazel cocked up an eyebrow from her lying down position on the bed, aggressively flipping a page from the gossip magazine she was reading, “Mia, they’re pants.”
Mia rolled her eyes slightly in the mirror, “Pants can be sexy too. Maybe too sexy?”
“You look superhot in those. Just wear whatever you like?”
“Hazel.” Mia groaned, putting the pair of slacks back in her closet before she sat down on the edge of her bed. She felt a little uncomfortable with Hazel wrinkling up her sheets, even if she was about to be gone for a week and she’d have forgotten by the time she returned – it still made her want to make her bed perfectly again.
With Mia’s pout playing on her lips, Hazel dropped the magazine and sighed, “Look, maybe go for a dress? It’s festive times, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, maybe for Christmas eve I could wear a dress? I have that dark orange one, like the rusty colour.” She got up and pulled the dress out, a long sleeved rather tight dress that fell down the middle of her thighs. Hazel raised her brows, “That’s so cute! Why haven’t you ever let me borrow that?!”
Mia smiled, “If you want to, you can. Just not this week.”
“Okay, pack that one for Christmas eve, I think that’s good. How about what you’re wearing later?”
Mia plucked at the end of her brown braid and felt her heart hammering, “T-To meet them?”
“Well, yes, silly.” Hazel smiled, pushing herself up on her elbows and fixing her glasses, “For the ride there and for meeting them.”
Mia’s mouth rounded when she realized she hadn’t even thought of that, “Oh.”
Hazel snorted, “Come on, let’s have another look.”
About thirty minutes later, finally all of Mia’s outfits had been packed. She had never made her suitcase to go on holiday for a week, especially with so much riding on this. She was going away with Harry for the first time – as a couple. She was meeting his parents, his brother and staying there for an entire week, celebrating the holidays together and – Mia felt like this one was very important – giving each other gifts. Also, she’d see his childhood home.
It was a lot of steps, and Mia felt ready, but also nervous. She wondered what Harry was like in the comfort of his own house, she wondered if he’d resemble either of his parents. She wondered if his parents would find her the right fit for him, if they’d like him, and most of all – she wondered if Harry’s brother would like her.
Mia had packed a little suitcase and decided on a casual outfit for today. She wore a jumper with embroidered roses on it which she bought because it reminded her of one of her favourite tattoos of Harry’s. She paired it with black skinny jeans and her boots, her hair now up in a bun to keep it out of her face as she packed everything.
“I can’t believe you’re going to be gone for a week.” Hazel pouted as she watched while Mia prepared a little snack for the road. Hazel stood with her arms crossed against the doorpost and Mia smiled softly at her, “I know. I’m going to miss our little home.”
“Honestly,” Hazel sighed as she stood behind Mia at the counter, softly wrapping her arms around her as her cheek rested against Mia’s back, “I’m going to miss you.”
“Hazel.” Mia smiled while shaking her head, “I’m going to miss you too.”
The pair hugged shortly as Mia prepared her sandwich – making a few extra for Harry as she assumed he wouldn’t have thought of something like that. She brought an extra bottle of water, filling it lukewarm because for some reason, he liked that. Mia couldn’t understand, but she tried not to judge. She made the sandwiches with some salmon, herb cheese and a little lettuce for Harry, and cheese with strawberry jam for herself.
“So what’re your plans again for this week?” Mia checked as she put the lunchboxes away in her backpack. Hazel pushed herself up on the counter, legs dangling over the edge. It was a familiar position for the both of them, having sat like that a billion times before in this kitchen. Either eating ice cream at night, sharing coffee during exams or having heart to hearts at early Sunday mornings.
Mia felt filled with warmth when she looked at her friend. She knew she had made the confession to Harry a few days ago that he was her best friend, and he was, but Hazel was a different type of best friend. Somehow, Mia felt, they were soulmates. An unconventional match, which Mia had been nervous for at first. She didn’t assume that her and Hazel would grow so close in the timespan of a few months, but they depended on one another a lot and Mia could tell she already dreaded the day they’d move out and go their separate ways after college.
Hazel took a sip of her coffee, “So, I’m staying here and then just going home for Christmas eve. My parents live like an hour away so I won’t be going for too long. So I can watch our little home, don’t worry.” She teased. Mia smiled while Hazel continued, “Also, I’ll definitely be going out a few times. I need to get laid.”
“Hazel!” Mia choked as her cheeks flamed at her friend’s blunt words, who laughed at Mia’s reaction. Hazel took her lip between her teeth curiously, “I know you’re all shy about it but… tell me about Harry.”
Mia strapped up her backpack with pink cheeks, “What about him?” She muttered. Hazel smirked wider, “You know what… come on. Give me some juicy details. Is he big?”
“Oh my god.” Mia groaned, shaking her head, “I’m not talking about this.”
“Come on!” Hazel laughed, “I give you all the details on the people I sleep with.”
“Unasked.” Mia added while shooting Hazel a small glare, “I truly didn’t need such a detailed description of that last girl’s breasts, Hazel.”
Hazel shrugged, “She had perfect tits and I’m obsessed with them, what can I say?”
“Look, Harry’s just…” Mia shrugged, memories of them together filling her brain and making her sweat ever so slightly, “he’s gentle.”
Hazel smirked, “Interesting… tell me more.”
Mia straightened up and avoided Hazel’s look, instead turning around to pour herself a little coffee as a distraction. Of course – she was ready thirty minutes early and now she had to sit and wait for Harry who was perfectly punctual and who would show up at eleven on the dot as they agreed on.
“He’s good.” Mia murmured with another shrug, her back to Hazel, “Like… considerate. Skilled. Talkative.”
“Talkative?!” Hazel repeated with a gasp and Mia cursed herself under her breath, burning her mouth with the coffee as she refused to turn around and face Hazel. Hazel giggled loudly, “Does he talk dirty?! Oh my god, Mia, please, spill everything!”
“I won’t.” Mia shook her head, “Really. It’s just – it’s nice. It feels good. I’m comfortable and I feel safe. It’s… it’s really good.” She sighed.
“Has he gotten you off?”
Mia wished the ground could swallow her whole as she exhaled a breath, “Yeah.”
She didn’t need to turn around to know that Hazel had a shit-eating grin on her face, “And have you gotten him off?”
“Yep.” Mia squeaked silently, hoping that the time suddenly moved thrice as fast and the bell would ring with Harry being downstairs so Mia could avoid Hazel for the rest of the week. Hazel chuckled from behind her, “Shit, that’s good. ‘M proud of you.”
Mia fought the smile as she shook her head, sipping more coffee with her back to Hazel, “But you two haven’t had sex?”
Mia turned around at that, shyly facing Hazel and shaking her head, “No.”
“That’s okay.”
“I mean…” Mia sighed, licking her lips, “He wants to. He really wants to. And I do too, but… I don’t know. I don’t know what to expect, and I think it’s gonna hurt because – “ She clamped her lips together and Hazel raised her brows with a smirk, “Because he’s fucking massive?”
Mia blushed red again and stared at the floor, not saying a word which was enough confirmation for Hazel, who shrugged, “I guessed it. He seems like someone with a big dick.”
“Oh god.” Mia whispered, rubbing her forehead and desperately glancing at the clock to see that only five minutes had passed. Hazel took amusement in her flustered state and giggled for a while longer until urging Mia to sit down at the table with her, “No, in all seriousness… no need to rush.”
“No, I know.” Mia mumbled, “He’s not trying to rush me. He… feels good in what we do. As do I. But I’m so… curious to explore more? But at the same time, I’m really scared.”
“Have you talked to him about it?”
“A little.” Mia shrugged, “Never all that detailed.”
Hazel nibbled her lip, “Maybe you should? Communication is key. You could take it slow, make some agreements and set some rules. You’ve only been together like… two months, Mia. It’s not weird.”
“No, I know it’s not. That’s not what it’s about, I really love him and I want it to be him, I feel safe with him. But it’s just – god, it looks so painful.” She sighed before softly flicking her eyes up, “How was your first time?”
Hazel snorted, “Drunk. And a little painful, but also not as bad as I would’ve thought. I was comfortable and aroused and it just happened. He was nice, and slow, and we used some lube and tried some positions. Really, I was hooked, didn’t at all scare me off for the second time. Which we did the next morning.” She cheekily added.
Mia’s eyes widened, “The next morning? Weren’t you sore?”
“A little.” Hazel shrugged, staring at her coffee mug, “sometimes that makes it better, you know?”
Mia frowned at her mysterious words, “Pain makes it better?”
“If you’re into that sort of thing.” Hazel shrugged innocently and Mia continued to frown, “I don’t… I don’t get it.”
Hazel cleared her throat, “Some people like that, they have a pain kink. I do too. It’s just… something I like during sex, when it hurts a little. Like it turns me on.”
Mia couldn’t fight her small blush, “Oh.”
“Yeah. There’s lots of kinks, lots of things that people like. I’m sure you’ll have some too and I’m sure Harry will have some too.”
The pieces fell together a little bit for Mia and Hazel caught the look of understanding on her face. Narrowing her eyes, she stared at Mia, “What’re you thinking about.”
“Oh – uh…” Mia shrugged, “nothing.”
“You can tell me, you know? I know I’ve been teasing but this really does stay between us. You can trust me.” Hazel patted Mia’s hand gently and she swallowed before nodding, “I know. It’s – uh… well… w-when we… do stuff.” Mia started with a quiet voice, licking her lips, “Harry’s like… vocal. I’ve said that.”
“Talkative, yes.” Hazel nodded, listening to Mia who continued, “A-And then when he’s about to… you know…” She murmured, face heating up, “he… like… asks me for permission?”
Hazel’s jaw dropped as she stared at Mia, who uncomfortably shifted on the chair and pulled the sleeves of her jumper over her hands. Guilt crept up inside of her that she shared something so intimate with Hazel. She was sure Harry didn’t talk like that to his friends about her. Mia groaned and palmed her face, “Look – just forget it. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No, no, Mia, I promise.” Hazel touched her arm again, “I’m just curious. You should be able to talk about this stuff, isn’t it… interesting?” She giggled before licking his lips, “Okay, I was once with a guy who wanted me to slap him.”
Mia felt a little better and nibbled her lip as Hazel took another sip, “So he asks you for permission to finish?”
“Yes.” Mia mumbled, cheeks flaring up again, “Also he… uh… he called me mommy.”
“Oh my god!” Hazel shrieked, pressing her hand flat to her gaping mouth, “No way!”
Mia rested her forehead on the table with a groan, regretting everything as Hazel freaked out tremendously over the information Mia fed her. Mia screwed her eyes shut in shame as Hazel drummed her fingers on the table, “That’s so cool! He’s got a mommy-kink!”
“What is that?” Mia piped out and Hazel chuckled, “Well, it’s just a bit of a power play, really. Like a title, some people get off on it. Usually it’s men asking others to call them daddy.”
Mia sighed, “And then later he said he wanted to put a baby in me.” She blurted out, unable to keep herself from apparently spilling every little detail about her and Harry’s sex life. Hazel gasped again and leaned back against the chair with a thud, “Fuck me, I’m so dead.” She sighed, “Holy fuck, he’s so kinky!”
Mia lifted her pink face with guilt in her eyes and Hazel shot her a sympathetic look, “Hey, if it makes you feel better, you can tell Harry I have a pain kink. I don’t mind.”
“Jesus.” Mia mumbled, hiding her face again with a soft groan. Hazel chuckled at her reaction and then played with the ends of her hair, “And are there things you’re into?”
Mia shrugged, “I-I don’t know. So far I’ve liked everything Harry’s done. I-I think I like it when he takes care of me.” Her cheeks flamed again with a specific memory and she bit her lip tightly before opening her mouth, “I like it when he calls me a good girl.”
Hazel smirked, “Shit, I knew it.”
Mia’s eyes rounded as she looked at Hazel, “What?”
“I knew you were kinky.” Hazel shrugged, “Always thought you’d have a side and hey, I’m right.”
“Oh.” Mia blushed before shrugging, “I – uh, I don’t know.”
“You two are so hot together, I swear.” Hazel sighed, “Unfair for us bi girls.”
“Hazel!” Mia groaned, blushing only deeper, “Stop.”
She giggled, “I know, I know. But really, I’m glad you’re having fun and that you’re exploring. It sounds really great, the two of you together.”
Mia smiled through her embarrassment and nodded, “It is. I just… god, I like him so much. I want – “ She cut herself off with a swallow and shook her head lightly, “I don’t know. I just want him. All the time.”
“Take your time.” Hazel softly spoke, “It’ll happen in it’s own time and it’ll be natural and it’ll be you. And it’ll be good.”
Mia offered her friend a warm smile and nodded, “Yeah.”
Just as she expected, Harry was at her place no more than one minute before the clock struck twelve. Instead of bringing him up, Mia and Hazel met Harry downstairs so they could leave immediately.
He wore a fluffy hoodie that covered up his head, while still wearing a beanie underneath. He wore his jeans and boots, looking huddled up for the snow and the train ride to Manchester. Mia grinned wide when she saw him, and he smiled right back, dropping his suitcase to wrap both arms around her and pull her in for a kiss.
Mia didn’t care that Hazel saw as she stood up on her toes to match his height and gently cupped his cheek. Their lips met in a loving, warm kiss and they pulled back, Harry shortly nuzzling his nose against hers with a dimpled smile, “Hey, m’sweetheart.”
“Hi.” Mia breathed, swooning tremendously over how handsome her boyfriend was once more. She bit her lip as she fixed the bun on top of her head and then turned around to Hazel, giving her a hug too. They said goodbye, Hazel not hugging Harry but simply stomping her fist against his bicep which made him yelp. Before he could get her back, Hazel fled through the safety of the secured door that Harry couldn’t enter without a key.
She stuck her tongue out at him and Harry flipped her off, something that made Mia blush and gasp at the obscene gesture. She gently tugged Harry’s arm and they set out for the train station together, nicely on time to catch their ride to Manchester.
Their hands were together in Harry’s pocket as he told Mia about something that happened between Liam and Zayn the other day, and Mia listened intently. She simply loved the sound of Harry telling stories. He spoke slow and a little uncoordinated, losing himself in his words very quickly and taking detour after detour until forgetting what he was originally talking about. Also his voice was low, his accent thick and a little gravelly due to the cold.
Mia was so in love.
The train station was a short walk away and they had purchased their tickets beforehand, being the organized couple they were. Harry knew it put Mia at ease to be prepared, her nervous shifting and playing with her hair was enough indication that she was slightly anxious about coming home with him.
Harry had to be honest though, he couldn’t wait.
A week of uninterrupted time with Mia in the countryside was… his dream. Throughout the days, his parents would be at work and Edward would be in the care facility he stays in mostly during the days. They’d have the house for themselves, could go on hikes and drive around town. Harry was excited to say the least.
Just like with his friends, he wanted to show Mia off. She was way out of his league, and Harry felt so proud of everything Mia stood for and everything she did or said. He was hopelessly in love and his heart skipped a beat when Mia squeezed his fingers gently while laced together in the pocket of his coat. It was one of his favourite things.
Her bumblebee stud in her ear shone in the lights of the train station as they walked in, her hair up in a little messy bun. She looked soft, huddled in a large jumper for the long ride. Getting to the correct platform, they had about ten minutes to spare until the train arrived. Everything was going smoothly so far and Mia held onto Harry’s hands as they waited for the train to arrive. It was a Monday, and Christmas was on Thursday. By Sunday, they hoped to be back in London so they could also spend some time here and then celebrate New Year’s Eve together.
“C’mon, lovie, we have assigned seats.” Harry smiled as the train arrived. Mia helped him carry the bags even though Harry protested, and she held the tickets as they waddled between the seats towards their assigned ones. Much to their delight, it was a little secluded area of the train with only four units, and theirs was the only one occupied.
“This is so cool. I feel like I’m in Harry Potter.” Mia giggled as she sat down on the red velvet seats and Harry sat opposite her, giving her a gentle smile, “Are you excited?”
“So excited.” Mia whispered, holding onto his hand again. He was warm and soft, and her hair was frankly freezing off a little, “Also a little nervous.”
Harry hummed, “I know it doesn’t help when I say that you don’t need to be. But you really don’t need to be. My mum can’t stop asking about you and dad had to calm down Edward because he was about to go very overboard with gifts.”
Mia’s eyes widened, “Oh my god! He didn’t have to get me a gift!”
“Of course he did.” Harry laughed. Mia blushed, very glad that she also went out of her way to get gifts for Harry’s family. He said it was a little bit of a tradition for them, even though they usually ended up giving cheap and stupid gag gifts. It was the gesture that counted and Mia couldn’t agree more.
She leaned back in the seat of the train, waiting for them to take off as she took out the scrunchie and redid her bun quickly, “So Edward… tell me about him.”
Harry’s lips curled up into a smile, “Uh – he’s two years younger than me. So your age, actually. He has Down Syndrome.” Harry explained and I raised my brows, “Really?”
“Yeah.” Harry nodded, “Never knew it when mum was pregnant, so they found out when he was born. It was a difficult pregnancy and birth and then obviously they were surprised when he was born. They hadn’t expected it but we all loved him incredibly much from the start. I was super close with him growing up, constantly caring for him.” He chuckled a little to himself and I smiled, imagining a young little boy like Harry playing around with his little brother.
“So… I mean, he’s quite the typical Down syndrome kid, to be honest.” He shrugged, “He’s easy to talk to, but he’s childlike. Mentally, he’s about nine. He doesn’t have many social skills, like he’ll interrupt and talk loud, or talk while chewing, or say inappropriate things. He loves to hug, so prepare for that. He’s also a bit overweight so you have to tell him when he’s about to crush you. Also, he’s got a lisp and he wears glasses, his eyes are pretty bad.”
Mia slowly nodded. She felt anxious and nervous. All she wanted was to respect Harry’s family, but she had to admit she had never before interacted with someone who had a disability like that, and she only hoped she didn’t mess anything up or upset Edward.
“He goes to a special school and usually sleeps there during the week. He’s been doing that for a few years now. And then he comes home in weekends. But I think this week, my parents might let him sleep at home a bit more often than usually.” He continued.
“Does he like his facility?” Mia carefully asked and Harry nodded, “He does. He’s got friends there and everyone thinks it’s good that he becomes a little more independent.”
“I think so too.” She smiled and Harry returned it, “Are you still nervous?”
Mia exhaled, “A little. Not because of his disability, just in general for meeting your family.”
Harry quickly leaned over to press their lips together softly, “They’ll love you, just like me.” He whispered against her parted lips, pecking her bottom lip again before pulling back. Mia blushed and smiled, “I hope so.”
The train departed a short bit later, the rhythmic noises of the engine easing Mia and Harry as they were tucked into their seats on the train. Mia drove backwards while Harry preferred to sit facing front. He claimed he got sick if he was backwards, something Mia had no issue with.
They each got to reading a book a bit, with Mia even dozing off into a little nap as Harry read to her. He urged Mia to sit next to him instead of opposite him so she could cuddle into his chest instead of laying her head against the trembling window. Harry stroked his fingers up her arm while holding the book with one hand and continuing to read it. It was another one of Mia’s recommendations.
Harry’s heart swelled when Mia woke up about twenty minutes later and lazily pressed her lips against his throat, humming against him, “Hi.”
“Hey, baby.” He whispered, turning his head to kiss her forehead. Mia closed her eyes and snuggled into his neck, “You’re so warm.” She murmured.
He chuckled and pulled her closer, “Are y’cold?”
“Not really.” She yawned tiredly, “Just like to cuddle you.”
Harry’s heart fluttered, “I know. Lots of that this week. Lots of us.”
“Hmm.” Mia sleepily hummed, “I love us.”
“I love us, too.”
Mia lifted her head and kissed his jaw this time, tilting her head as far as it could go to match their height difference. “Are you hungry?” She asked.
Harry puckered his lips in thought, “Yeah, maybe a little. D’you think they sell food on this train? I didn’t think of that beforehand.”
Mia smiled, “I did. Packed us a little lunch.”
His smile grew again as he bit his lip, folding the corner of the page of his book – where Mia had folded it already beforehand when she was reading it – and putting it down, “Really?”
“Yeah.” Mia leaned forward to reach into her bag, “Made sandwiches.”
Harry sighed, unable to contain the butterflies in his stomach as he wrapped his arm around her and kissed her temple repeatedly, “You’re such an angel baby.” He whispered.
Mia giggled while pulling out the lunchbox, “There’s only two for each though. Oh, and I got you some water.”
Harry felt like he ran out of ideas to show her his love. It felt frustrating, never finding the words to explain what she meant to him. She was so considerate and sweet, just sweet. The sweetest person he had ever come across and he felt so much adoration for her. She was his best friend, the one he craved so much in every aspect he could imagine.
He took the water bottle she offered him, eyes lighting up in delight when she remembered how he liked his water – not ice cold like her but a little lukewarm. She had cringed the first time he told her that, turning the regulator of the tap in her apartment to the left a little to warm it up before filling up his glass.
The way Mia remembered little details, made him feel so warm he couldn’t really explain it even if he tried.
The train ride went by like nothing with Mia cuddled into Harry’s side and him reading her the book as they ate their lunch and Mia dozed off into little naps. They spoke in loving whispers to one another, out of the presence of their friends they could be as clingy and sappy as they wanted.
They repeated how much they loved one another, sharing little kisses and nose bobs until they pulled into the station of Manchester.
Mia’s nerves skyrocketed as her and Harry got off the train with their luggage and Harry blindly lead them through the huge building, knowing his way around. He held a hand protectively on her lower back and his face broke out into a wide grin when he saw his mum on the parking lot.
Anne had a bright smile on her face as she eagerly waved and Harry chuckled, “That’s mum.” He whispered to Mia, who felt her own lips curling up into a smile at the sight of the dark-haired smiling woman who clapped her hands together and waited for Harry and Mia to reach her.
“Darling!” She squealed while cupping Harry’s cheeks. She squished them and the apples of her cheeks rounded as she smiled so wide, “You look like you’ve aged three years!”
“Mum.” Harry laughed, shaking his head and she gasped, “And you got your piercing back!”
Harry chuckled again and nodded, “Yeah, I did. Mi’s idea.”
Anne let go of Harry’s face and held her breath as she approached Mia. “Hi.” She softly spoke, bouncing on her feet nervously as Anne approached her, “Hello, sweetheart.” Anne crooned, sounding just like her son. Mia was mesmerized by how alike they looked, and Anne opened up her arms.
Mia couldn’t help but just fall into the hug, and she didn’t know why it made her emotional. She locked eyes with Harry, who stood behind them, as Anne wrapped her arms around her form. Mia felt the lump in her throat as she closed her eyes and exhaled, hugging Anne back. She couldn’t explain why this felt like exactly what she needed, or why it felt like she had her life together all of a sudden.
Harry felt proud to see his mother and his girlfriend in an embrace. His cheeks hurt from smiling and when they pulled back, Anne gently grabbed Mia’s shoulders, “Honey, you’re just gorgeous.” She gushed, “Harry wasn’t exaggerating when he couldn’t stop talking about how pretty you are.”
Mia blushed and giggled shyly, glancing down, “Oh – w-well, thank you.” Mia murmured, “You’re very beautiful, too. I see where Harry gets his looks from.”
Anne waved it away before taking a breath, “And I’m so glad you decided to join us all week. I think you’ll fit right in.” She gave her shoulders another squeeze, “I can’t wait to get to know you better.”
Mia could melt at the warmth Harry’s mum exuded. She was the definition of a mum, just warm and cosy in every sense of the way. Just that one hug made Mia realized she did have internalized stress. About the grades she was yet to receive, about changing education, about starting over and still not knowing if this was going to be her passion, and about the lack of communication with her parents and brother.
“Me too. Thank you so much for letting me stay.” Mia sincerely spoke and Anne shook her head, “Nonsense, you’re always welcome with us. You’re part of the family now.”
Harry chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. He loved Mia and was more than serious about her and a future with her. He meant it, still envisioning her in a white dress in some of his dreams, or imagining her older with a few wrinkles as she balanced a grandchild on her hip. Most often, he saw her with a growing belly and glowy cheeks as she grew month after month with their child in her tummy.
Still, they hadn’t really spoken about that and he hoped his mum’s words didn’t freak Mia out. But looking at her face, Mia’s eyes glimmered when Anne spoke and her smile only grew, nodding gratefully at the kind words, “Thank you.” She whispered.
Anne and her shared another short hug before getting into the car. Harry sat up front with his mum, chattering and catching up, and Mia admired his boyish attitude around his parents. He chewed gum in the car, using his hands to talk about certain stories that Mia had heard before, but that she’d gladly listen to again. Harry had to snap her out of her daydreams every time he glanced over his shoulder and apparently wanted her in the conversation, but she could hardly focus on anything besides how perfect he was and how much she loved him.
“And how did your exams go, Mia?” Anne asked while glancing at her in the rear-view mirror. Mia straightened up a bit, “Oh – uh, I think they were alright. Very difficult though. I-I guess I’ll have to wait and see.”
“Hmm.” She nodded, “Well, Harry said you’ve been a huge help to him this semester.”
Mia flicked her eyes to Harry with a small smile, “Really?”
He looked at her over his shoulder, “Baby, of course. Never been this motivated. Studying with you was the best thing ever.”
Mia grinned and bit her lip, feeling giddy at his compliment. She fought her wide smile and stared out the window in shyness for a bit.
They were driving further up north into the countryside, some fog setting in as melting snow was at the sides of the roads. Mia’s eyes widened when she saw acres of lands and animals on them. Cows, to be exact. It excited her to no end and she just wanted to pet one of them.
Her fingers itched in excitement as they drove more into wooded areas, Harry and Anne chattering and laughing about nothing as Mia stared widely at everything outside. She had always been more of a city girl. Sure, with her parents, she grew up on the outskirts of London but it still wasn’t very much a countryside area like this.
She could imagine Harry growing up here and mowing the lawns and having a paper route, having a tight knit group of friends that he grew up with and stuck with until leaving for uni. The city must’ve been a big change for him.
She watched as his fingers drummed on his thighs to the beat of the Beatles-song on the radio as Anne drove the car more uphill where only a few houses were. Harry’s eyes lit up when looking at a particular house and Mia followed his gaze, seeing a cottage type of home that made her feel warm immediately.
Anne did an immaculate parking job at the steep driveway and Mia accepted Harry’s help to climb out of the car, offering him a breathy chuckle, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, m’love.” He smiled back, opening up the back of the car to grab their bags. Anne carried the one Mia was reaching for, ignoring her protests. “It’s not much,” Anne spoke while looking at their house, “but it’s home.”
“It looks incredible.” Mia sighed as she looked up at the house in dark wooden tones and surrounded by tall trees. She faintly heard a dog barking from inside and glanced at Harry who shot her a sheepish look, “Yeah, we have a dog. You’re not allergic, are you?”
“I’m not.” Mia laughed, “What’s his name?”
“Bobby.” Harry grinned, “Wonder if he’ll still recognize me.”
Harry’s question was answered when the front door open and a German shepherd dog came charging at him. Harry laughed and dropped his bag, petting the excited animal who ran circles around his legs and jumped up, panting heavily with his tongue out. Mia smiled as Harry crouched down and hugged Bobby, whispering stuff to him as he rubbed his hands up his fur, “Hey, boy. Hey.” He whispered, pressing his lips behind Bobby’s ear.
When Bobby’s first excitement wore off, he curiously got to circling around my legs, sniffing a little and staring up at me. I gave Harry a look and he nodded, and I bit my lip before carefully putting my hand out for him to sniff. I let out a giggling yelp when he unexpectedly licked my hand and I scratched the top of his head, “Hi, Bobby.”
Harry’s heart warmed dramatically at the interaction. Him and Mia had never talked about pets, and he very much did forget to mention he owned a dog of this size. But her reaction was nice and she didn’t seem anxious, gently patting the animal which Harry assumed he’d hardly feel but Mia’s touches were just so delicate and gentle that he couldn’t complain about anything.
Once inside though, there was another surprise when a two hundred pounds excited brother of Harry’s charged down the stairs with his arms open.
“Mi!” He yelled and Mia’s eyes widened, along with Harry’s and Anne’s.
“Edward!” She warned and he slowed down. Dark brown hair was on top of his head, a little thinner than Harry’s. He wore round, thick rimmed glasses on his nose and shyly looked down. Mia cleared her throat, “Hi. You must be Edward.”
“Yes.” He shyly answered, a lisp in his tone as he fiddled with his fingers, “You’re Mi.”
She smiled and Harry chuckled, “Yeah, this is Mi.”
“Nice to meet you.” Mia smiled gently and Edward continued biting his lip before flicking his eyes up.
“Oh!” He excitedly spoke, and before anyone really knew what was happening, he reached his hand out and touched Mia’s chest. She gasped in surprise and took a step back as Edward frowned and Harry stepped in, “Ed!” He scolded.
Mia’s cheeks were a hot pink as Anne palmed her forehead with a sigh, “My god, I’m sorry.” She apologized and Mia shook her head, “N-No, it’s okay. Uh – it’s fine.”
Harry and Edward were exchanging hushed whispers until Harry turned around with an eyeroll, “He wanted to touch the embroidered roses on your jumper.”
Mia’s heart felt lighter as she felt the corners of her mouth curling up into a smile, “Oh. Well, that’s fine.”
Edward, who stood behind Harry, stared at the floor again while shifting on his legs, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Mia reassured him, “They’re nice roses.”
“They are. Harry has a tattoo like that.” Edward spoke and Mia grinned wider, “He does, it’s why I bought this.”
Harry felt surprised at the information and chuckled before wrapping an arm around Mia and kissing her temple. She blushed a little more at the unexpected display of affection, but Anne watched them with love in her eyes and Edward gasped at the soft side of his brother he had never really seen before.
Mia could only imagine her parents scolding her for acting like that with someone in public.
Harry’s arm stayed around Mia’s waist, keeping her pulled into his side as the backdoor opened and Harry’s dad walked in. Mia straightened up as he pulled of his gardening gloves, a little out of breath with pink cheeks, “Now, where did my helper go?” He asked.
“Harry arrived! With Mi!” Edward exclaimed in response and his dad chuckled, lifting his eyes and taking off his glasses, “Son.” He greeted Harry with a warm smile, and his arm slipped for around her as he hugged his dad. Mia watched their loving interaction with a small smile until his dad turned to her, “You must be Mia.”
“I am.” She piped out, holding out her hand, “Nice to meet you, sir.”
“Oh, none of that, sweetheart.” He chuckled, “Call me Des.”
Mia’s cheeks and heart warmed as he opened up his arms, and she took the invitation without hesitating. It was easy enough for her to notice how Harry’s family were all a bunch of huggers. Mia was one too, but her parents never picked up on it and sadly enough for her, the sort of deprived her of the physical contact which she found so much comfort in.
She felt it too when sleeping with Harry. How he buried his face in the slope of her shoulder, held his arms tightly around her… she loved that. His legs entwined with hers and his entire body curled around hers as he peacefully slept, it brought her a sense of comfort she couldn’t compare to anything else.
“Thank you so much for having me.” Mia politely spoke to Harry’s parents, Bobby circling around her legs as Edward impatiently shifted on his legs. The entire vibe was a little chaotic and very non-Mia, who liked everything controlled, silent and structured. Anne’s and Des’ household was a bit of a mess, but Mia honestly found it charming. She could perfectly imagine Harry here. And even if her fingers were a little itchy in anxiety from how many sounds and strange smells there were, she felt at ease with the warmth of her boyfriend beside her.
“Harry.” Edward whined, pouting at his older brother. Harry raised up his brows, “What’s up?”
He pushed his glasses up his nose, “I wanna show Mi my room.”
“Buddy, we just got here.” Harry chuckled, patting his shoulders, “We should just sit with mum and dad for a bit to chat. Haven’t been here in ages.”
Edward crossed his arms over one another and kept pouting, causing Harry to raise his brows, “Haven’t you missed me?”
“Yes.” He exclaimed the obvious with wide eyes before rolling them, “But I’ve built an entire new train set and I want to show her.”
“Why don’t you show me instead?” Harry grabbed his shoulders and directed him towards the stairs, glancing at Mia over his shoulder. She shot him a smile and watched as Harry and his brother disappeared from sight, stairs creaking under their weight as she was left alone with Harry’s parents.
“Mia, are you thirsty?” Des asked, walking into the kitchen before he pulled open the fridge and grabbed a cold beer, “I have to say, it’s such a nice surprise that you’re joining us. A really great opportunity, the holidays. One of Harry’s better ideas to bring you along.”
“Yes.” Anne gushed as she followed us into the kitchen, “He can’t stop talking about you.”
Mia shyly chuckled under her breath as her cheeks heated up and her mouth hurt from smiling so much, “Well, thank you again for welcoming me.” Her hand petted Bobby’s head as he followed them too, “It’s really nice here, and y-you both welcomed me so warmly.”
Desmond smiled, “Well, if Harry has a girlfriend… we’re excited, not going to lie.”
“Tell us how you two met.” Anne eagerly asked and Mia raised my brows, an instant error in her brain when she fully forgot the story Harry and her rehearsed so they did not have to tell his parents he broke that bookcase by having sex against it and was sent to forced therapy for it. “Oh – uh,” She licked my lip, “m-my roommate is a philosophy-student too. So she sort of knew him from a couple of classes and that’s how we met.” Mia made up.
Anne and Des ate it up though and nodded at her explanation, “Very sweet.” Anne grinned, “Are you sure you don’t want anything? Some water? Tea? A beer?”
Mia parted my lips, “Oh. Uh – maybe some tea, please. Thank you.”
“Of course.” She nodded and got to heating up the water for the tea as Des sipped on his beer, “I’ll grab a shower soon, don’t worry, I don’t always walk around like this.” He joked, referring to his gardener’s outfit and the few streaks of mud on his shirt. Mia smiled and shook her head, “It’s okay.”
“So spending the holidays with your in-laws,” He smiled, “aren’t your parents going to miss you?”
Anne rolled her eyes, “Des, don’t talk about marriage so quickly.”
Mia’s cheeks blushed again as she giggled slightly, the idea of marrying Harry not scaring her even the tiniest bit. If she had to admit it, Mia wanted nothing more. She nibbled her lip, imagining her life with this family as her own family. All she could see was happiness here.
“My parents usually take a trip for the holidays, so no.” Mia explained, “I’m really excited to be here all week. You have a very beautiful home and the environment… I can’t wait to explore.” She admitted.
“Where did you grow up?”
Mia shifted to put her weight on her other foot, “Just outside of London.”
“Oh, that’s fun!” Anne called as she opened up a cupboard to pull out a variety of tea bags, “So you’ve always been a city girl? Do you live close to campus?”
Mia followed both Des and Anne towards the living room as she sat down on the couch, crossing her legs over one another, “I do. My parents live like on the other side of town, it’s about an hour away by car.”
“Ah, the dream.” Des chuckled to himself, “I’m sure you see them all the time. If we were this close to Harry, we’d for sure meet up every week.”
Anne nodded, “Very true. We missed him so much.”
Mia’s heart sank a little, knowing very well she hadn’t actually seen her parents since moving out into the apartment with Hazel. If anything, she hadn’t even spoken to them in weeks. She hadn’t even had the chance to mention Harry to them. Her phone calls were in vain and texts were left mostly unanswered. She pressed her lips together tightly and forced a small smile, “He missed you too. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Anne poured us some tea, “I have to admit, he looks so happy to be with you.” She softly smiled, “Like ten thousand pounds just dropped from his shoulders.”
She had hardly spoken out the words when they heard stumbling on the stairs and Mia turned around to look over my shoulders, seeing Harry and Edward laughing as they walked down and joined everyone in the living room. Harry easily plopped down on the couch next to Mia, his arm going straight around her shoulder as he smiled at her, “Y’okay?”
“Yeah.” Mia whispered back, swooning at how handsome he looked. He had a slight bit of facial hair and reached for her cup of tea, taking an urgent sip before his face scrunched up, “Shit, ‘s a lot of sugar.” He immediately put it down again and she giggled, “You know how I take my tea.”
“I do.” He smiled softly, “Sweet, just like you.” His voice was hushed, hardly audible for his parents who were slightly scolding Edward for a stain he had on his t-shirt. Harry stared into Mia’s eyes with a gentle, soft and loving look and she melted completely. Sounds around her died, every worry about her parents ebbed away and she leaned her head back into his bicep, resting on the back of the couch behind them.
“I love you.” He whispered, quickly dipping his head to press a kiss to Mia’s lips. She felt my cheeks taking a pink tint at how affectionate he was, and Edward’s exclaimed disgust for their PDA made them snap out of it.
“You kissed!” He yelled and Harry chuckled, “Yeah, of course we kiss. Mia’s m’girlfriend.”
Edward scrunched up his face with his tongue out in disgust, “That’s gross!”
“Oh yeah?” Harry raised his brows and pressed multiple exaggerated kisses on Mia’s face which had her giggling and smiling against him. His lips pressed to her cheekbone as she fought for air and eventually pushed him away with a smile painted permanently on her lips.
Harry’s parents shot them loving and approving looks while Edward continued to fake gag. Harry continuously kept one arm around Mia while his other hand was on her thigh, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb as his parents asked him about the semester and his studying.
Harry had always been quite affectionate. Around his friends, he had a hand on Mia or kissed her cheek, and on the street or campus they usually held hands. Mia somehow hadn’t expected him to be this way around his parents because she was raised so differently, but she loved how accepting they were of their relationship and of their love language.
Harry, who sat next to her, didn’t have a worry in his life. He was in his childhood home with his parents, his brother and his gorgeous girlfriend who he so proudly showed off to his parents. He knew they noticed a shift in his demeanour and how soft he was around Mia, but he couldn’t help it. She brought out that side of him, where he just turned into a lovesick puppy and would prefer to cuddle into her underneath a blanket, inhaling her scent right now.
Her greeting to his brother had gone a little south from the lack of boundaries, but Harry loved how Mia recovered. He knew this household was a lot for her. His mother was a lot less organized than how she was brought up, and it showed in the dirty windows, the dishes in the sink and the shoes strewn around the house. Where Mia’s apartment – and Harry was sure her house was too – was spotless, his house was alive.
He adored Mia’s apartment and her bedroom, which showed little traces of her personality no matter how spotless she tried to keep it. He knew those cleaning tendencies had a lot to do with her anxiety and how she constantly felt the need for control and how much of a perfectionist she was.
Doing his research on it, he learned that being a perfectionist meant that they preferred perfect spaces too. So it was one less thing to worry about or stress them out, and it was an easy thing to control. With Mia, that was very obvious.
Yet at the same time, she looked natural here on this couch, with Bobby laying on the carpet by her feet and a steaming cup of coffee on her lap as she had a gentle conversation going on with Edward – who was completely obsessed with her.
Harry’s fingers mindlessly played with her hair, his dad’s gaze zeroing in at the affectionate gesture he had never seen his son do – not even remotely close. Mia was accepted and approved of by his parents, that was for sure. Not that it was ever even a question. One call and hearing how happy Harry sounded, was enough for them to completely love her.
“So when are you guys getting your grades?” Des asked and Harry and Mia shared a look, “In two days.” Harry spoke. He had to admit he was nervous. Not only did he feel curious to see how his grades were after a semester of studying so much due to Mia’s influence – he was sort of excited to see how good he did when really putting in the work -, but he also felt like he had to prove himself a little bit to Mia. He wanted to show off for her too, he wanted her to be proud of him.
Harry cleared his throat, “Mia’s actually going to switch courses after we get our grades, aren’t you, sweetheart?” He gently squeezed her shoulder and Mia swallowed her sip of sweetened tea, straightening up a little bit at the attention being on her, “Y-Yes. I – uh, I decided to go for something different.”
Anne nodded slowly, “No more psychology?”
“No,” Mia shook her head, “it’s going to be anthropology.”
“Wow, that’s really cool.” Des smiled, “I think that’ll fit you.”
Mia blushed softly, her entire body feeling so giddy at how gentle Harry’s parents were. Anne nodded along, “Agreed. Also, it’s a time for experimenting. Not a lot of people know what they want to be at eighteen, let alone that they succeed in their first year.”
“Yeah, I mean, look at me.” Harry shrugged and Des gave him a look, “Very different. You failed because you hardly opened up a book, not the same thing, Harry.”
Harry rolled his eyes at the tone his father took, reminding him of the many speeches he received last year after failing his classes and having to redo nearly all his exams.µ
The evening progressed nicely, with Harry and Anne taking an evening stroll to let Bobby out while Des and Mia got to cooking a little bit. They chattered in the kitchen, and Mia found herself strangely comfortable around Harry’s dad.
It occurred to her that she had never really felt this comfortable around another man besides Harry. Not even her own father she could have this sort of conversations with. Des felt like a friend already, and Mia found herself nodding and laughing as he easily pulled jokes out of her and got her more playful side to occur. It was a rare and heartwarming sight for Harry to walk into the kitchen to see his dad and girlfriend bonding mere hours after meeting for the first time.
He fell in love with Mia all over again, noticing the effort she put in to set the table while Edward was too focussed on video games to really participate. Dinner was lovely, nothing too special but perfectly them, until Mia and Harry both felt a little tired after the long train ride.
So Des helped them carry their bags up the stairs and Mia burst out into a smile when walking into Harry’s childhood bedroom. Anne had offered her a separate room but also didn’t make it strange when Mia and Harry told her they preferred to sleep together. He had a double bed in his room, a bit smaller than what she had in her apartment, and the Pokémon sheets made her grin widely.
The interior of the room had mostly stayed the same, with band posters on the walls and even old textbooks on the desk. Harry’s room had a small adjacent bathroom with just a sink and a tiny shower – which Des informed them didn’t work properly – so they’d share the bathroom with Edward while Harry’s parents had their own.
Unpacking their things for the week – something Mia found very important - , they stood next to one another at Harry’s closet to each place their clothes in a vacant shelf.
“Did you bring pyjama’s?” Harry asked and Mia nodded, “Yes, I did.”
He turned around with a pout, his lips a little more scarlet due to the glass of wine he had at dinner and Mia’s eyes fluttered upon watching his pink lips, unable to stop herself as she leaned up to quickly press her own to his.
Harry had a gentle smile on his lips as she pulled back, his hands on her hips and giving them a gentle squeeze, “Can you wear something of mine to sleep?”
“Something of yours?”
“Yeah,” He bit his lip, “or nothing at all.”
Her cheeks flamed, “Y-Your door doesn’t lock.” She murmured.
“True. But my parents aren’t like my roommates, they knock and wait for a response.” He chuckled.
Mia breathed out a laugh and chewed the inside of her cheek, “Maybe… but still – I wouldn’t feel fully comfortable sleeping naked here.”
“Okay.” Harry whispered, “’S fine. At least wear something of mine?” He dipped his head to kiss her temple and Mia smile, “Okay.”
Harry eagerly smiled and squeezed her hip again, turning around in his closet to scan it before he pulled out an old flannel. It was soft, and perfect as pyjamas for this weather as it was freezing outside. He could only imagine how beautiful Mia would look in this dark, muted purple and grey flannel that he wore so often a few years back.
He hesitantly gave it to her and Mia took it from his hands, “Thank you.” She smiled and Harry’s cheeks heated up this time as he cleared his throat, “’M gonna go brush my teeth.”
With Harry in his little adjacent bathroom and his electric toothbrush making all the noise for a full two minutes, Mia was behind the corner of his door to quickly change. She’d take a shower tomorrow, but felt too tired and lazy to do so right now. She slipped out of her pants and the flowery jumper, being left in her soft pink panties and then putting on Harry’s flannel.
It smelled like him and she buttoned it up before pulling her hair out of the bun and letting it cascade down her back. Her fingers shortly massaged her scalp, wincing at how tight her hair had been all day and only realizing it now.
Harry looked at her through the mirror when she walked in, her ass barely covered. She muttered an apology under her breath as she stepped in front of him to put toothpaste on her own toothbrush, her body very much aware of Harry’s eyes staring intently at her.
More specifically, at her legs and the curve of her backside as the toothpaste drooled out of the corner of his mouth and he quickly snapped out of it. He spat in the sink and rinsed out, clearing his throat as Mia started her own routine of brushing her teeth with her electric toothbrush.
The buzzing sounded through the brightly lit bathroom, and Harry leaned against the doorpost behind her, looking at her in the mirror as Mia was focussed on the way she brushed her teeth.
By the time the buzzing stuttered to signal the end of her brushing session, Mia pulled the toothbrush out of her mouth. Harry noticed the struggle with her hair and chuckled to himself, standing behind her in his shirt and boxers as he used both hands to keep her hair behind her. Mia leaned forward to spit into the sink, her lips wet with water from the rinsing as she straightened up again, “Thank you.” She breathed.
“You’re welcome, my love.” Harry murmured, stroking through her hair once more before he wrapped both arms around her waist and leaned his chin on her shoulder from behind, staring at her through the mirror, “Means so much to me that you’re here.” He whispered.
Mia leaned back into his chest with a smile and a hum, her face bare of make-up and her body smelling like Harry, “Means so much to me to be here. Your parents and brother are so lovely.”
“They love you.” He kissed the side of her neck, “So much. You fit in so well here.”
Mia melted into him as his arms tightened around her form, his breath warm against her neck as she hummed softly, “Wish we could stay here forever.”
Harry puckered his lips below her ear, closing his eyes as he felt the soft fabric of his old flannel around her. Mia turned her head while leaning against his shoulder, and her nose nudged his before they blindly caught each other in a kiss. Lips touching and brushing together, Mia sighed through her nose and trusted Harry completely to hold her up.
Harry’s lips massaged her own, kissing breathily a few times before he moaned softly and deepened it. Mia tilted her head more, giving him more access as he dragged his tongue over her bottom lip and she felt the butterflies in her tummy as she opened up for him.
Focussing on the way his lips felt against hers, the way his tongue licked at the roof of her mouth, Mia hardly noticed Harry’s fingers toying with the buttons of the flannel she put on earlier.
Harry carefully and slowly undid two from the bottom up, brushing his fingers over the cotton pink panties she wore. Mia trembled and had a breath caught in her throat, causing Harry to smirk against her lips at the way her body so sensitively jerked into his touch at all times.
Her hands were around his wrists, desperate to hold onto something but not guiding or pushing him away. Even though her neck hurt from the position, Mia in no way wanted to stop. Her brain was slowly melting, and everything about this moment was perfect for her. She was wrapped in his arms, feeling safe and comfortable while being welcomed so warmly by his family.
She felt so incredibly connected to him, so incredibly in love she couldn’t even put it into words. Mia had read a lot of books, but she had never read about this. Or at least she had never read anyone who could explain it in words that she was searching for herself.
Maybe there were no words, Mia decided. Just feelings. So many feelings, like too many to even contain.
Her muscles jittered as Harry undid another button, now exposing her belly button before his fingers moved onto the next. And then the next. And then the next. All the while, their kissing was deep and passionate, yet slow and loving. His tongue was wet and soft, playing with her own. Mia got lost in kissing him very easily, and she adored it.
It didn’t always particularly need to lead to anything, the act of kissing itself made her weak in the knees and Harry knew it. They had to pull back for air, Mia’s eyes already dark and hooded, her lips open in panting breaths as Harry’s hovered over hers.
He gave a teasing lick to her swollen bottom lip and Mia whimpered under her breath, involuntary jutting her ass out just a little as Harry was up to the final button. Mia could hardly feel him opening it, but she felt the cold air hitting her naked chest as the sides of the flannel fell open to expose her.
Harry shakily exhaled against her mouth when he gently placed both of his warm palms on her breasts, still standing behind her as she had her head cocked back on his shoulder.
“P-Please.” Mia whispered, lips parted as she writhed slightly in his grip. Her fingers were death gripping his wrists as Harry held his hands on her boobs, giving a gentle squeeze to the squishy flesh that he adored so much. He smirked and kissed her top lip, gently letting some spit leak into her mouth.
Mia couldn’t find her breath at the feeling of their intimacy. She wasn’t vocal, she wasn’t sure if she ever would be, but somehow it was such a turn on that Harry just understood her without having to use words. His eyes darkened and he messily pushed his lips on hers again, tongue darting out to taste their mixed spit on her tongue.
Mia couldn’t hold still anymore, her waist bending and snaking, ass pushing out against him which caused Harry to grip her tits a little harder. He kneaded them together, fingers splayed over her chest as she arched into him. Her nipples were against his palms and he groaned into her mouth when grinding his hips against her ass.
Both desperately having to catch their breaths, Mia finally turned her head to rest her head fully on his shoulder, near staring up at the ceiling as she gasped at the way his fingers pressed into her nipples.
“Fuck, Mia…” Harry moaned softly, kissing down her neck as the flannel hung open around her. He looked in the mirror, seeing her stretched torso, her sucked in chest with a shallow breath and her tits covered by his hands. “God…” He whispered under his breath, more so to himself before sighing out, “you’re so beautiful.”
Mia’s hands fell flat against the countertop to support herself as she exhaled ragged breaths, Harry’s hands kneading her chest while nipping on her neck. She swallowed thickly and forced her eyes open, lifting her head to stare at their reflection in the mirror. Harry flicked his gaze up too, catching hers through the mirror and he smirked into her skin, “And so hot.”
She breathed out a laugh and Harry’s hands left her as he grabbed her hips, spinning her around quicker than Mia could think and her eyes fluttered shut when they were caught in a kiss again, a little more rough this time. Mia tried to keep up with Harry’s pace, but felt a billion things at once as he fit his hands underneath her thighs to clumsily lift her up the counter. She tried to balance herself even though he put her down half into the sink, but with locking her legs around his waist – she was fine.
Mia held her arms around his neck now that they worked around the height difference, Harry’s hands slipping underneath the flannel to feel her naked back as they fervently made out. Her tongue flicked at his and Harry pushed against her lower back, pulling her closer to the edge of the countertop to push his hips against hers again.
He was excited, Mia could tell. Hard, contained by his boxers and pressing between her thighs in a way that made her toes curl behind his back. His hands moved lower to the curve of her ass, grabbing handfuls of the flesh to keep her steady as he rocked his hips into hers.
“Harry… oh god…” She whispered breathlessly as she angled her pelvis to feel him better, a gasp tearing from her throat as Mia threw her head back. Harry caught on easily, their lips breaking apart as he went to kiss down the column of her throat, inhaling her, tasting her. One of his hands tightly tangled in her hair, keeping her head cocked back sharply so her breasts pushed out against his chest.
“Jesus, Mia…” Harry panted, “’M gonna fuck you like this one day.”
Her legs shuddered harder and Harry groaned from the back of his throat, swiftly picking her up beneath her thighs and carrying Mia towards the bed. Blinking her eyes open, she was already on her back with the flannel open, exposing her.
Mia’s eyes immediately shot to the door in anxiety, “Harry,” She mumbled, “the door.”
He grabbed the neckline of his shirt with his fingers and yanked it over his head before jumping on the bed too, hovering over her, “No one’s gonna walk in, promise, sweetheart.” He murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips.
Mia nibbled her lip in hesitation but eventually Harry’s kisses below her ear distracted her enough that she couldn’t really think straight. Her legs were spread, fitting him between her thighs as his crotch rubbed over hers, Mia gasping every time his bulge rolled over her clit.
At the same time, she keened at the slow pace. Harry’s bare, warm chest felt incredible against her own. So safe, soft and warm that she could purr. Harry braced himself with his elbows next to her head as they continued breathily kissing, sneaking out tongues to flick over one another as Harry teasingly sucked on Mia’s bottom lip for a bit. He chuckled to himself at her quiet little whine, but couldn’t hide the twitching of his cock at the sounds she made.
Mia was panting like she was running a marathon. The slow stimulation made her wet, she could feel her panties sticking to her, the warmth radiating from between her thighs. She wanted him closer, closer, closer. Her entire body was tingly and floaty and she was fully engulfed by Harry and she let him engulf her. She felt so safe around him, she loved him so much. She knew he’d never do her harm.
“God, I love you so much.” Harry panted into her ear, giving her bumble bee piercing a gentle lick before he kissed down her throat again. Mia’s fingers were tangled in his hair as she smiled to herself, biting her lip with closed eyes, “Love you too.” She lazily whispered back, feeling how his hands ran up her sides, her ribs until reaching her boobs.
“Your tits are s’perfect.” He whispered, scooting down a little until he was eye level with her chest. Mia exhaled puffy breaths as she blinked her eyes open, the ceiling of Harry’s childhood bedroom turning a little blurry as her body trembled. Harry pressed an open-mouthed, wet kiss at the top of her sternum, “Hm? You’re so sensitive, m’love. So fun to play with.”
Mia couldn’t answer, her fingers feeling the soft whisps of his hair between them as Harry kissed the swell of her breast again, “You’re short on breath and I’ve barely touched you,” Harry remarked in a murmur, keeping his hands besides her breasts and only touching the outer part of them as he gently pushed them together a little. He had never really noticed before, how nice of a cup size Mia had.
And the first time seeing her topless, in the shower, he just couldn’t help himself. He washed her, using the excuse to touch her everywhere as she stood with her back to him like earlier in the bathroom. He had felt it, the twitching of her hips as he skimmed his thumbs over her nipples, how she gasped softly and how her lashes fluttered.
She was so responsive to his touches. He barely had to brush the tip of his finger over her jaw to have her as putty in his hands. Not that it made him all that arrogant because it was the same thing the other way around. Mia had to just have a hand on his back for Harry’s muscles to welcome the touch and relax him completely. He could fall asleep so easily with his nose buried in the crook of her neck.
And every little, innocent touch excited him so much he couldn’t even explain it. In his past, Harry usually had one night stands. He met them on nights out, flirted a little and took them home or went back to their places. It was quick, hard and rough, and it felt satisfying but he never really experienced that… build-up. Sitting next to her all evening as she so gently smiled at his family members and politely finished her entire plate even though Harry knew she was full after a little over half of it.
She declined the wine tonight, just sneaking a sip from Harry’s glass and he admired the way those few sips stained her lips a little more maroon.
Every time her knee bumped into his, or when she gently held his elbow whenever she brought him up in conversation, Harry just felt electrified. In the best way. Like a zap of excitement just shot through him and he wanted so much. He wanted many unspeakable things which he knew Mia wasn’t ready for yet – and Harry quite liked the waiting and the exploring they were doing right now because it made everything so special and exciting rather than rushing into it all – and at the same time he also just wanted to wrap her up and keep her safe like she kept him safe.
It didn’t take Harry long to realize that Mia was it for him.
And he was hopelessly in love with her, as he was staring at her parted lips, her darkened eyes and her flushed face, her tits in his hands and her laying beneath him on his bed. Harry kept his eyes on her face as he started kissing around her right breast.
Mia bit her lip and exhaled a little giggle, making his brows raise as he paused. Mia lifted her head with pink cheeks, “It tickles.” She whispered. Harry huffed out a laugh and shook his head. Really only Mia could make a comment like that when he was playing with her boobs, goosebumps raising over her chest at the soft brushes of his lips.
“Yeah? It does?”
“Mhm.” Mia giggled again. Harry licked his lips, “How about this?” He leaned down and left a wet kiss right on her nipple, snaking his tongue out to flick it.
Her reaction could make him whimper. She gasped, chest sucking in with a harsh breath as her head dropped back onto the bed and she arched her breasts up for more contact. Gone was the giggling, gone was the smile, replaced by a scrunched up brow in pure pleasure. And the best thing was that her hips bucked into his abdomen, the cotton of her panties brushing against Harry’s abs and he knew she had felt that little lick in her clit.
He smirked against her, loving how sensitive she was. Mia exhaled a trembling breath to recompose herself, fully new with the feeling of his lips or mouth on her nipples. He did it again, a little slower this time, dragging the flat of his tongue over her already wet nipple. Mia bit her lip, hard, arching more as she bent her legs higher, needing him closer.
“Harry.” She whimpered softly and he hummed, “Wanna be my good girl, Mia?”
His smirk grew when he watched her entire body tremble, another breath stuck in her throat as her pelvis jutted up ever so slightly. He felt it. God, she was everything. He gave her boob a gentle squeeze, “Answer me, be good.”
“Yes.” Mia squeaked, “Yes – sorry, yes.”
“Be quiet then.” He whispered, “Don’t make a sound and I’ll keep going. I’ll get you off like this, don’t you think? Wait until you feel me sucking, ‘m gonna fucking drive you crazy.”
Mia felt tears in her eyes, feeling so on edge somehow and he had hardly touched her. It was a little pathetic, but she loved it. She loved being… a little pathetic for him. She wanted him to have that power over her, she wanted to lose herself. Mia never lost herself, but she did in Harry and she was addicted.
And they both knew it.
“Q-Quit,” She nodded with closed eyes, “yes. Please.”
The idea of having an orgasm from this, didn’t sound half crazy. With the way she was throbbing and the slight stimulation of his hard abs against her pussy, Mia very much knew it was possible. She had to admit she had never really paid much attention to her breasts.
Since being with Harry, Mia tried touching herself more. She just craved him whenever they were apart, and she got curious. So a few times, she dared slipping her hand in her panties with closed eyes, imagining him with her. It didn’t feel all that incredible and left her a little frustrated. If she went to bed in a mood like that, she knew she was bound to wake up all sweaty and moaning his name in the middle of the night – a wet dream prominent on her mind.
And now there’d be a new one.
One where Mia was naked, sitting up against the countertop of Harry’s little bathroom as he held her by her hips. She’d have her hands behind her to steady herself, maybe one in his neck because she liked to be close and touch him. His chest would be glistening in a thin layer of sweat and his boxers would be pushed down below his hips.
And he’d drive into her, his length wet in her arousal as he made love to her on a countertop, needing her right then and there that even the bed was too far. Mia knew the minute he said he wanted her like that one day, she’d dream of it. The pleasure she’d hopefully feel, the connection, the intimacy she loved so much with Harry.
“Please,” She choked in a broken whisper, “I’m-“
“You’re talking.” Harry sternly spoke, “Thought you’d be quiet, hm? Thought you’d be good?”
“I am.” Mia gasped, writhing uncontrollably and Harry fought his smirk, enjoying this way too much. Mia bit her lip with a frustrated groan, “I am, I’m g-good. So good for you.”
He twitched again, grinding himself down into the mattress for desperate relief at her soft voice. He hummed, “Then stop talking.”
“Touch me.” Mia begged, “Oh – please, please, touch me.”
“Shut it.” Harry sneered sharply and he gave her breast a hard squeeze to reprimand her. Mia gasped and arched, biting down harder on her lip to fight her moan. Her eyes were closed tightly, her thighs quivering and her panties soaked through. She managed a nod, her fingers holding onto his shoulders so tightly she knew her knuckles would be white.
Releasing her lip and then pressing them together hard in hopes that it’d keep her from making any noise, Harry hummed in approval, “That’s good, there’s my good girl… listening to daddy so well.”
Mia froze in a tingle of sensitivity that ran straight to her pussy as she choked on a breath, keeping her whine down as best as she could. Her cheeks flamed red at the nickname he used for himself, and it was exciting and explorative and Mia loved the vibe they were in. Harry eyed her reaction, unsure of what to make of it but he did know she couldn’t stop rocking her hips up into his abs.
And she was wet as fuck.
Harry decided to grant her relief and put her out of her misery, finally having his mouth on her tits. He kissed around her nipple again before letting a small bit of spit dribble on it, using his tongue to spread it around and roll around her nipple.
Mia couldn’t keep her mouth closed for longer than five seconds, laboured breaths escaping her lips as she shuddered and kept her eyes closed, basking in the feeling of Harry licking on her boobs.
He switched sides, giving the neglected nipple the same attention. He used his thumb to roll around and rub over the other one in the meantime, hardening it more until Mia felt like it was on the brink of just a little painful.
Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god. Mia couldn’t stop repeating those words in her head as she felt her wetness travelling between her ass cheeks, hopefully not staining Harry’s sheets. She’d feel terrible about that.
But his mouth was so skilled, his tongue to patient yet salacious that he could just somehow sense what she liked and needed. A breathless whine tumbled from the back of Mia’s throat when he locked his lips around her left nipple and gave a gentle suck.
“There we go.” Harry whispered at her reaction, arching her back up more as her legs locked tight around him and she couldn’t keep her hips still for the life of her. Mia’s ears were ringing as Harry hummed, “So good, that’s it…” He continued sucking on her nipple and Mia gasped harder, finding it more difficult to keep quiet yet at the same time the idea of anyone hearing her absolutely mortified here.
Hazel had given her a hard enough time over it already that she was done with that for the rest of her life, Mia felt.
Harry stared at Mia’s spit-slicked light brown nipples, glistening in the dim light of his bedroom as kneaded them and licked over her nipples. They were hard and taut, swollen from his lips and he had a feeling that just one brush of his thumb over her clit would get her to cum.
And then her phone buzzed.
Harry ignored it at first, hoping somehow that Mia was so out of it she couldn’t even hear it on the bedside table. Harry was hard as a rock in his boxers, tip sticking out the waistband as he was angled up and leaking precum on his bedding. With the way Mia was leaking from her little hole, he had a feeling they’d have to change the sheets either way.
God, he couldn’t wait to have his tongue between her legs to clean her all up and get her to cum again and again and again.
But he felt the stiffening of Mia’s body as she turned her head to the side, watching where her phone was lighting up with a call. She bit her lip, noticing how Harry continued his kisses on her chest and Mia swallowed thickly to find her voice, “H-Harry.”
He frowned and groaned, shaking his head in disapproval of her wanting to take a break. The buzzing stopped and Mia kept staring at the phone, the screen dark again until after a few seconds, it started ringing again.
“Harry.” She repeated, “Wait – just a second.” She pushed herself up on her elbow and Harry sighed, his mouth popping off of her nipple as he nodded shortly, “Yeah, okay.”
He laid between her legs, her tits bare in front of him as Mia reached for her phone, a thick frown immediately on her forehead as she tried to straighten up more, but Harry’s body prevented her from doing so.
“It’s my mom.” She noticed. Harry eyed her reaction and Mia looked at the screen with a puzzled frown, “W-Why would she – it’s ten in the evening?” She spoke more so to herself, gently nudging Harry off as she sat up straight. He grunted a little in defeat and rolled off to the side of the bed as Mia sat up, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed with her back to him, answering her phone.
“Hello? Mom?”
“Mia?”
Mia pulled at the side of the flannel, trying to cover herself up a little as she tucked her hair behind her ear, “Yeah. Everything okay?” There was a sense of urgency in her voice, clearly wondering why she’d call at this time of night.
“Yeah!” Her mum sounded breezy, Harry clearly hearing her voice through the device, “Everything’s great! I’m just returning your call.”
Mia exhaled, “Oh. Uh – well, I’ve been calling for a few weeks now a-“
“Well, Mia, your father and I work all the time, you know? Needed to wait for the holiday to be able to give you a ring back.” She defended herself. Harry watched from his sideways position as Mia’s shoulders slumped a little. He didn’t need to see her face to see that she was anxiously biting her lip, already trying to find a way to apologize.
“N-No, no, of course.” She murmured and Harry’s heart broke at the defeat in her voice. Her mum hummed, “I really recommend Buenos Aires.” She sighed breezily, “It’s so good here, I could stay forever.”
“You’re in Buenos Aires?” Mia sounded surprised, the information new to her. Her mum took a few seconds to answer and Mia could hear wind on the other end of the line, suspecting that her mum was on a beach somewhere in Southern America.
“Yeah, we are!” She laughed, “I’ve told you this.”
Mia cast her eyes down, “Y-Yeah. You probably did. I just forgot.”
“So where are you?”
Mia stifled a little yawn, suddenly realizing why she called at this hour. It was sunny afternoon in Buenos Aires and she probably didn’t take into account what time it was back here. Mia glanced over her shoulder at a shirtless Harry, who rested on his pillow with his eyes on her. She fiddled with her fingers, “I’m – uh, around Manchester for the week, actually?”
“Manchester?”
Harry rolled his eyes before he could stop it, hearing the judgement in Mia’s mum’s voice even through the phone when he wasn’t even part of the call. Mia swallowed and nodded, “Yes. I-I’ve met someone.” Her voice was barely a whisper as she anxiously twisted one of the buttons of the flannel. She had it wrapped around her, still undone but she wasn’t warm anymore.
The line was quiet for a bit until Mia took a breath, “Mum? Did y-“
“What do you mean, you met someone? Mia, you’re eighteen! You met someone and you’re immediately taking a trip with him?!”
Mia exhaled shakily at the instant scolding she got, swallowing again as she licked her lips, “I-I met him a few months ago. He goes to my school. H-His name is Harry.” She tried to explain gently but her mum was muttering curses under her breath, “And what about Daniel?”
Mia pressed her lips together, her entire body deflating. Harry dared to gently trace his fingers up her covered spine, silently letting her know that he was here for her. The soft sniffle that came from Mia’s nose, broke him further.
“I’m not in love with Daniel.” She softly spoke and her mum huffed, “And you are with this guy you just met?!”
“I’m in love with Harry, yes.” Mia braved through, and Harry gave her a gentle squeeze to her side to let her know he was proud of her as she continued, “And I didn’t just meet him, I’ve met him months ago.”
“Then how come we’ve never heard of this?!” Her mother didn’t seem to calm down. Mia rolled her lips inside her mouth and ran her fingers through her hair, “I-I’ve tried to call…” She carefully spoke.
Her mother didn’t answer and let out a sigh after a while, “Fine. Bring him to the charity dinner at the end of February, hm? So we can meet him.”
Mia winced under her breath, hating those evenings with her parents, the rest of her family and all of their friends. She sighed and nodded, “Yeah. Okay.” She didn’t have to ask, already knowing she wouldn’t see them any sooner than that. And she hadn’t since September.
“How’d your exams go? Got your grades yet?”
“No, not yet.” Mia murmured, “And they went fine, I-I think.”
“You think?” Her mother sighed and Mia pulled her legs up, wrapping her arm around her shins to keep herself together as she bit through the bullet, “I- uh… I wanted to tell you… I’m thinking of changing courses.”
Her mother took a breath and Mia held air tight in her throat before she exploded, “What?!” She shrieked.
Mia closed her eyes, feeling the tears pool behind her lashes as she swallowed away the tight lump in her throat, opening her mouth to defend herself except her mother didn’t let her. And it turned into a victim trip that made Mia’s heart heavy.
“After everything we’ve done for you?! This is how you repay us?! Mia Brown! What on earth have you been doing at that university?! Going to parties? Meeting boys? Drinking?!”
Mia’s eyes widened, “No! No, no, no! Not at all. I-I haven’t been partying, or drinking.” She quickly murmured, “I just… Mum, I don’t like psychology.”
“Right.” She huffed, “You expect me to believe that is the reason? What is it that you’ll be doing then?”
She chewed the inside of her cheek, “I-I was thinking maybe anthropology.”
Harry’s heart clenched when he heard the hesitation in her voice. Earlier, when his parents asked her the same question, she said it with confidence and pride. Now, she hardly dared uttering the words to her mother who let out a sigh as if she had just heard the worst possible news.
“Jesus, Mia…” She mumbled, “You can not be serious. It’s a field without prospect.”
Mia leaned her chin on her knees as she sniffed, keeping her mouth shut. She felt so demotivated now, so unsupported. Her mother drew a breath, “We’re still paying for your education, and we say no.”
A tear rolled down her cheek, her bottom lip wobbling as her spirits were broken down. Mia had felt excited about her switch in education now that she put her mind to it. She was excited for the new chapter, to leave psychology behind her and to focus on something she stood behind.
“First you drop those therapy sessions, giving us the clear indication that you don’t care about your grades whatsoever. You’re falling behind, Mia.” Her mother rebuked her, “What on earth will we tell our friends? Daniel will be so disappointed.”
Mia swallowed away the sob stuck in her throat and hastily wiped beneath her ears, but Harry saw the movement of her arm and finally decided to get up and scoot behind her. He parted his legs behind her, fitting her between her thighs as he wrapped a secure arm around her waist to pull her into his chest. His lips kissed the back of her head repeatedly, “’M here, sweetheart.” He whispered, hardly audible.
Mia sunk into him a little as she tried to inhale a steady breath. Mia didn’t know how to tell her mother that she didn’t give a damn about what Daniel thought. But she was polite and had always been raised to be so. She could never speak to someone like that.
“I would really like to enroll in anthropology, mum.” Mia timidly spoke, feeling the warmth of Harry behind her, supporting her and keeping her up, “I-I think it’s really interesting. A-And my grades haven’t slipped, I tried really hard. I just… I think I made the wrong choice picking psychology.”
Harry kissed the back of her head again, feeling proud as she stood up for herself. Mia sniffed again as her mother sighed, “I have to say I feel disappointed, Mia… Your father and I hoped you’d be quick on your feet like your brother, but you’ve been a little behind all your life. I suppose we can’t expect you to make the right choices from the start, because you never have.”
The message of her words were sweet, but Mia felt the stabs in her chest with each sly backhanded compliment she put in there. Comparing her to her brother, Aden, the golden boy, telling her she was behind – which she had felt like she had been all her life due to her dyslexia that she had internalized so much, she didn’t even dare telling her professors about it – and then telling her she made mistakes in her firsts.
Harry was her first boyfriend, and her parents thought he was a mistake.
Mia blinked through the tears as her lips trembled and her cheeks were wetter. Harry held her tighter, rocking her back and forth gently as Mia took a breath, “H-How’s dad? What’ve you guys got planned for Christmas d-“
“Honey!” Mia’s mother cut her off as she called out for her father. Mia closed her eyes with a sigh, stopping in the middle of her sentence. She faintly heard a male voice shouting something back.
“It’s Mia!”
“Who?” He responded and Mia’s chest burned in pain. Harry squeezed his eyes shut and kissed her temple over and over again as her mother laughed, “Mia!”
More shouting back and forth until her mother chuckled, “Sorry, Mia, he’s not ready to get up from his sunbed.”
Harry couldn’t believe his words. He knew Mia’s parents were controlling and strict, but he didn’t know they were absent, too. The one was hard to match with the other, for Harry. He usually assumed absent parents didn’t care much about their children and let them be free to make their own choices. Strict and controlling parents on the other hand, were there every step of the way to keep an eye on things.
It's why he felt it was strange that Mia hardly saw them or heard from them. He had seen her so often, nibbling on the nail of her thumb as she listened to the call going over until it switched to voicemail. She left voicemails and tried again the next day, but weeks went by and no calls returned.
They didn’t care.
So how did they have the right to dictate her life like that when they left her alone for the holidays and hadn’t seen her in over three months?
“Bye darling! Talk soon!” Her mother ended the call, the line dying before Mia could respond.
She crumpled after that. Harry could tell she tried to hold it in, as if ashamed of her emotions, but she did break. Her body folded into Harry’s, who held her close and whispered loving praises in her ear. Mia cried and sobbed, shaking her head, “I’m so s-sorry, Harry.” She cried, “About what she said.”
“Don’t apologize,” He murmured, “you defended me, it’s all good, m’sweetheart. I love you so much, I’m so proud of you, and us.”
Mia swallowed thickly and nodded with tears in her eyes, managing to turn around. Harry sighed shakily at the sight of her tear stained cheeks and her puffy eyes. She looked heartbroken, yet he couldn’t imagine it was the first time she spoke to her like that.
A knock on the door startled them both, Mia jumping up on Harry’s lap in surprise. She sniffled again, staring at the door through teary eyes but it didn’t move. Whoever knocked, waited for them to respond.
Sitting on his lap, Mia’s shoulders shook in silent sobs. Harry shushed her gently, using the time to button her shirt back up and cover her, make her more comfortable. He held her close again, keeping her flush to his chest in hopes of comforting her.
Seconds passed and they knocked again, “Harry? Mi?” They could distinguish Edward’s voice clearly from behind the wood. Mia wiped her cheeks and took a breath as Harry kneaded her hips gently, clearing his throat, “What’s up, Ed?”
“I wanna say goodnight to you.”
Mia recomposed herself and climbed off of Harry’s lap as he shot her an apologetic look, “Sorry. He really does just want to say goodnight.”
“No, I know.” She murmured, “I know.”
“Are you okay? He’ll be in and out in a minute and then we can cuddle again.”
“Okay.” She squeaked, continuing to dry her eyes. Harry sighed, “Just a sec!” He called out to his brother, quickly giving Mia a pair of boxers to cover her up.
Once he had his shirt back on – and some sweats to conceal his semi – and Mia was dressed in the boxers, Harry opened up the door.
Edward stood in a plaid pair of pyjama pants and a dark shirt, pushing his glasses up his nose, “Night night.”
Harry smiled at him and pulled him in for a hug, “Night, Edward. Love you.”
“Love you too.” He spoke, hugging Harry back before his eyes landed on Mia. Edward frowned immediately, “Mi’s crying.”
Harry sighed and scratched the back of his neck as Mia cleared her throat, “Oh – no, no, I’m fine.” Her raspy voice gave it way and Edward frowned deeper, “No, you’re crying. Why are you crying? Did Harry hurt you?”
Harry huffed and Mia quickly shook her head, “No! Not at all. I swear, I’m fine.”
“You’re crying.” Edward repeated in confusion. Mia nibbled her lip and shifted on her feet, “I’m – uh, I’m just a little sad. But I’ll be okay.”
Edward’s face fell into a little pout while Mia mustered up the least convincing smile she could manage. Edward took a step towards her, “Do you want a hug?”
Her chest tightened as her lip wobbled again. If she could choose, Mia would want Hazel’s hug. It was hardly a day and she missed her friend a lot. She glanced at Harry, who gave her an encouraging nod before Mia exhaled, “Y-Yes, please.”
Edward scooped her up easily, his much larger body engulfing hers as she stood on her tippy toes, closing her eyes as another sob wrecked her and she cried into Harry’s brother’s arms.
He watched the embrace with love and pain at the same time. Mia was crying, she was broken, and he hated it for her. And she found comfort in the warm hug of his brother, who expressed his affection so physically it didn’t surprise Harry one bit he wanted to hug her to make her feel better.
“Thank you.” Mia whispered as her and Edward pulled back. He squeezed her shoulders softly and she wiped her eyes, “Thank y-you.” She repeated.
“No more crying.” Edward softly spoke and Mia cracked a little smile before she nodded, “No more crying.” Her voice still didn’t sound too sure of itself. Edward seemed happy with her answer though, smiling brightly before he looked at Harry over his shoulder, “No more crying!”
Harry chuckled, “No more crying. C’mon, bud, we should all sleep right now.” He took Edward’s shoulder and guided him out of the room, bidding him goodnight once more they were left on their own again.
“Do you need anything, m’love?” Harry crooned as he approached her and cupper her cheeks. Her eyes were still wet and sad, and Harry kissed her forehead with a soft sigh, “Fuck, I’m so sorry, Mia…”
“Just you.” She whispered back, circling her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek to his heart. Harry stroked through her hair, “Okay. Okay, let’s just go lie down, hm? We can cuddle and talk and kiss a little bit.”
Mia complied easily, letting Harry guide her to bed. She slipped off his boxers again, leaving her in the flannel and her underwear, and Harry had her sitting up for a little bit to clumsily braid her hair.
It warmed Mia’s heart. He hardly knew how to do it and she didn’t give much instruction. Some strands he pulled too hard and the others were too loose, but this was his love language and she adored it. He wanted to take care of her.
Once he secured the braid with a little tie, they laid down in the dark. Harry scooted over to her side immediately, wrapping his arms tight around her until he could feel her breathing against his neck. He anchored her leg over his hips, having them touch in every way possible to make her feel safe.
“I’m so proud of you, m’heart.” Harry whispered in the dark, lips brushing over her forehead, “Switching courses isn’t easy, and I’m really proud of you for sticking to it. I think you’ll be so much happier in anthropology, it really suits you.”
“Yeah?” Mia squeaked out, sounding uncertain of herself after the call with her parents. Harry closed his eyes, exhaling through his nose, “Of course. You’re so amazing, Mia. You inspire me every day, you’re my biggest motivation. And my biggest supporter, too. It’s incredible to be with you, you’re just…” He sighed, “I don’t have the words for it. I’m so lucky, you have no idea.”
“Harry.” Mia whispered, pushing her nose into his chest as she cuddled him, “I’m so lucky with you, too. You take such good care of me, and you’re in my corner the entire time. I couldn’t wish for anything more. A-And I’m sorry I’m such a crybaby about it, I really don’t mean to be dramatic o-or ruin our time here. I promise I’ll be better tomorrow.” Her voice was on the verge of cracking again and Harry frowned, listening in confusion to her apology.
“Hey, hey,” He cooed silently, holding her tight, “don’t apologize, never apologize for that. You’re not a crybaby, you’re not being dramatic. You’re hurt. Mia, sweetheart, please… don’t apologize for that. I’ll always be here for you, however long you let me. Please… keep letting me in. And don’t worry about it, I want all of this with you, too. I’ll have my moments where I need you to hold me together, and that’s okay. I’m so in love with you, it’s all part of that. Never apologize.”
She sniffled and nodded, “Okay.” She rasped, “I-I love you too. So much. So, so, so much.”
“Baby.” Harry affectionately spoke against her forehead as they just cuddled for a bit.
“I hate that this was your first impression of them. They can be really nice, I swear.” Mia whispered, clearly still thinking of the call that just took place.
Harry doubted it.
Yet, he hummed. He stroked his fingers up her back soothingly, wondering how the first meeting with her parents would go. He’d give them a fair chance, for Mia, even though he knew they wouldn’t do the same thing. They had already made their judgement. He could tell from the way Mia mentioned Harry over the phone to her mum, and she didn’t ask a single question.
She didn’t ask how they met, how long they had been together, how old he was, what he studied. They didn’t ask if she was happy, if he treated her right. He wouldn’t be surprised if they had forgotten his name already. And he was in his head about it.
Harry never really cared about what other people thought of him. But of course, he would’ve preferred his girlfriend’s parents so somewhat approve of him. Mia’s love was the most important thing, and he felt like she wasn’t about to be influenced by her parents judging – at least he hoped so – but it still sort of stung that they wouldn’t give him a fair chance.
Mia was in her head, too. She already knew her dreams about a naked Harry wouldn’t happen tonight. She’d be a ball of anxiety again, and she was so excited to relax after exams. She was so excited to be here with Harry, on holiday, out of their usual environment to be really carefree and in the moment.
Both of them needed the other, both their insecurities taking the upper hand.
With another kiss to her forehead, at which Mia tilted her head back to catch his lips with hers, they whispered a goodnight and rocked one another to sleep.
WOOO second part to the pornstar!au (Tiger Harry). Find the first part here
If you'd like to read more goodies from me (including a RIDETHET!GER threesome, already up!), my patreon is HERE :)
CONTENT/WARNINGS: p-in-v, anal sex, Sir kink, choking-ish, light dom-sub dynamics
WC: 4K
“They’re both just such pretty holes,” Harry coos, and he thumbs apart her lips before folding over her to reach for his priorly discarded smartphone. His confession is mottled by a sigh, “…I simply cannot decide.”
Tiger has perfected the art of edging.
Not even in a literal, tethered-from-the-sweet-peak-of-precipice with an iron hand wrenching backwards sense — though, she’s seen plenty of that through his camera work. It’s a finely formulated craft, making her skin itchy and her cunt weepy before he’s even really touched her. And he hasn’t. She thinks, maybe he’ll nip at her clit with the pads of a forefinger and thumb, but he doesn’t even do that. Instead, he takes a step back. The phone pings. Action.
“Spread,” Harry tells her. Light. Easy. Pats at one cheek, “Here.”
Y/N obliges. She rolls onto her shoulders and tucks her arms behind her, splaying her fingers and pulling the flesh apart there. There’s a hiss like a breath coming in through little nooks between his bare teeth. It feels absolutely glorious.
And lewd. A torrid kind of heat climbs up her neck. Lingers in the apples of her cheeks when Tiger pets at her thigh — probably taping a close-up vista of her oozing pussy — and comments, “Look at that pretty, little cunt.”
Her digits jolt over her flesh, squeezing it apart almost desperately when he traces the back of a finger beside her clit, and then meanders up to her leaky entrance, prodding with the tips of two fingers. Not quite breaching. Tiger slinks one — a forefinger— up the short trail of her taint and nudges at the hilt of her plug, tracing the petals. Stuffed with silicone flora. Pretty.
“Fuck. Fucking gorgeous.”
He sighs all soft behind her, and trails lower.
“I think—“
Harry scopes the hood of her clit with a thumb and then pulls it back to scrape with the pad of his middle finger — a motion that makes her jerk and wrests a soft sound from the back of her throat. A deviously mirthy hum comes from behind.
“I’ll fuck you here—“
The tip of a finger brushes her weepy, pulsing seam.
“—first. Stretch you out a bit before. Sound good?”
She hums against the sheets. Please. Tiger traces the rim and sinks in to the second knuckle with paltry notice. His fingers are long, fill up more space than her own. Lengthier than hers. Girthier. They prod at the nooks and crannies that yearn to be grazed with little effort on his part, and by the time he’s sunk to the base of his chilled ring bands and added a third digit, Y/N is nearly drooling into the sheets.
“You are such a tight, little thing, sweetheart,” Harry hums. Enunciates his speech with the wet squelch of his fingers plunging, cradled warm and wet by her sloppy pussy.
A mewl gets muffled in linen when he scissors the pair, stretching the seam taut, and rolls his thumb in slippery circles where her slick has trickled. There’s heat swelling in the trench of her tummy; a warm tide pool sloshing in waves that crest. Higher and higher. Building. It overcomes her — this tsunami, blighting her ataraxy until she’s a slobbering mess at the foot of his bed, keeled over.
“Gonna—“ Y/N warns, brows pleated and mouth pried apart, tongue brushing bunched fabric with little couth.
Tiger milks her through it, rigid fingers pumping and thumb swirling clusters of spheres into her pulsing flesh, until all that’s left of her are melty shambles with a weakly fluttering cunt. And it does flutter, throbbing emptily as his digits withdraw. Sucks onto them like it doesn’t want to let go, and then spasms around bare atoms like it needs to be corked back up.
“Good girl,” Tiger praises. He sounds soft and pleased. Concentrated as his cockhead prods at her hole— “Got my fingers all wet, too. That’s two for two.”
He swipes them at the back of her thigh, so she feels how slick. The pink border of his mouth is probably twitchy. Traces of a smile scratch at his dialogue the way something claws in the pit of her tummy as he nudges with the fat tip. She feels melty. Frozen fudge on a summer day dribbling down the handle. She thinks, for a moment, with her knees and her shoulders seeping into the mattress, that English has slipped her mind. Nothing plucks at her vocal cords, almost as if they’ve been snipped entirely. A high sound crawls from the back of her mouth, though, when Harry tucks his cock into her.
He’d been big in her palms — the pads of her digits hadn’t quite kissed around his shaft when she was kneeling, sweeping her tongue at the slit of his ruddy head, and her jaw had strained wide apart to fit him in and swallow him down. Even still, Y/N hadn’t anticipated the stretch. He bullies his cock into her — just about halfway — forcing against her spongy walls in a way that’s nearly too much. Like a paw wriggling into a glove that’s two sizes too small. She feels him in her belly, deep, as he sinks in, inch by inch (hisses escaping the cracks of his bared teeth and scraping at the edges), and bottoms out. She tastes clean cotton on her tongue, mouth wide and muted dumb, eyes screwed.
A gasp shatters the lull, like one sucked in bobbing to the surface of a sea that’s going to ripple and kick her back under. It thaws in her achy lungs as a soft, dreamy moan when Harry fetters her wrists with one hand at the small of her back, rocks out, and pumps back in.
“There you go, little bird. Nice and—“
She cries out as his hips snap.
“Full?”
He rolls out slow, and her fingers twitch when he pummels in to the hilt. Ragged, little noises scarper from her mouth like he’s punched them from her from the inside. The ping of the phone sundering its video doesn’t register, but she realizes he’s tossed the phone again when he pets his free hand over her ass and stamps a sharp, stinging blow to it. Harry sets a brutal pace, then. Soft strokes that strain her rim taut and give her room to adjust simmer off when something scathing boils in the trench of his belly. He grapples her joints in his palm firmly, and the tempo of his hips smacking into her morphs merciless. Used and abused.
“Oh, fuck, yeah,” Y/N whines when his thumb presses at the hilt of petals stretching her littlest hole.
“Fuck, yeah,” He mirrors, snarling, and twists at the plug to siphon a whimper.
Inferno spumes her arteries when he wriggles the plug out, groaning, and replaces it with two wet, blunt fingertips. Three. They stuff her fuller than the plug had and have her wheezing for oxygen to mingle with the scorch that permeates her veins.
Her knees shuffle over the sheets, she squirms when he drills into her again and again and again, and he grapples at a love handle to keep her tight in place, “You asked for this— and you’re gonna take it, baby.”
Y/N does. There’s not any alternative when he hammers into her and burrows half-moons into her flesh with the ends of his short nails, but she doesn’t want there to be. She scrapes at the side of his palm with crooked fingers — the one that cuffs her wrists together and pants into the sheets.
She’s seen Tiger fuck. She’s watched the videos — a little redhead clawing at the stair-railing with wet eyes as he coiled her hair tight over his knuckles from behind, or a brunette keening under his frame as he tucked her calves over his shoulders, pounding in from the tip to the hilt and all the way back out. The ones with a curvy blonde clawing at the sheets, whimpering as he pummeled between her thighs, and the one where the woman with the pixie juddered helplessly over his lap, crying out as he stippled a slick trail of open-mouthed kisses up her jugular and manually bounced her over his cock with a firm grip at her hips that dwarfed her size. Y/N has seen so much of the impact in screen captures — slobbered chins, streaming eyes with mucked kohl and smudged liner. Tips of noses hued cerise or pinky and lips swollen and sloppy with spit. Still, she’s somewhat surprised to feel mirrored evidence over her own face as tears drip in rivulets over the apples of her cheeks, as she gnaws at her bottom lip and drools onto his expensive mattress. It’s not the aftermath yet, and Y/N is sure she’s going to be a disheveled mess by the time the camera on the dresser shuts off.
His cock spits ribbon after ribbon into her with little warning. He pounds into her, something cruel and brutal, husking growls. A groan slides up from the depths of his chest, and he slurs a string of curses, fingers twitching in her other hole when he empties into her pulsing cunt. Y/N absolutely milks him through it. Her slick walls spasm over his cock, and she whines like the same effects curdle her bloodstream and erupt across neurons.
When Harry pulls out, fisting at the base and gruffing a hum, he thumbs a bead of cum that leaks out to coat her clit. She absolutely sings, at that.
He lets go of her wrists. Twisting his fingers gently from between her cheeks, Harry blows out a breath and—
Y/N keens like he’s slapped her when Tiger splays his palms over the globes of her ass, spreads, and spits where he’d been fingering her apart. It’s glorious. Harry presses his cockhead to the glob of saliva smearing, still manhandling apart one cheek, and tells her, “Spread,” voice worn and mottled with pants like his heartbeat is thundering ichor in his ears.
She does. Her own heart hammers behind the caging of her ribs when he makes a lewd sound, breathy and awed as he smacks over her asshole with the head. He slides against her perineum when she jolts, spine zagging, and hums.
“Is it gonna fit?” Y/N beckons. Her cheek smushes to the wet spot she’s made against the sheets. It’s the most gloriously humiliating revelation.
He winds around the room to the nightstand, where, through tear smeared peripherals (like a bleary windshield coated with condensation), she watches him cull a bottle of lube. The cap clicks. Harry sets a knee up, and the bed creaks, meshing with a sound of amusement and a slick hand working lubricant over his shaft. Her lashes flutter as Tiger works two wet fingers into her, to the hilt, unceremoniously, scissoring. He pulls them out.
“F’course—“
Y/N gnaws into the smooth, slicky flesh beside her molars.
Tiger grunts. She’s forced to arch at the palm over the dimples at the base of her spine. As if to test the theory, the slippery head of his cock nudges to the puckering seam.
“…We’ll make it fit.”
Taking anal from Tiger, Y/N learns, is a feat.
A pornographically debauched sort of rite of passage. She’s seen the pictures, too. The teasers he’ll post on X with only the pink tip of his cock in frame, a ringed, vibrantly lacquered hand cradling the back of his partner’s thigh to tuck up and showcase an asshole oozing cum. And the videos; the ones where the girls rake their nails into his tri’s, knuckles bleached, necks strained as garbled moans climb up their throats as he burrows in. They’re always blissed out, after; their visages melty and the lines where their foreheads and hair meet teemed with sweat. She has to wonder, though, as he prods in, how they quite make it fit.
A high sound and a tight squeeze part-way over the tip has him petting his fingertips over the metacarpals spiking through the skin at the back of her hand.
“Just breathe for me, baby,” Harry tells her, soft unlike the seat of his jawbone and the grit of his ivory teeth, after, “I’ll go— slow.”
Y/N inhales. It’s stolen from her lungs in the form of a long, low groan when he stuffs the tip past and the rim rides over the ridge.
“Is that too much, baby? Yeah?”
She suckles a bit of the sheet between her teeth when he mends the stretch of his sloppy, wet cockhead with a thumb that swipes from her leaky slit and meshes cum against his cock and the taut rim of her other hole.
“…That’s okay, we’ll get you there,” Harry coos, “That’s the hard bit all done, yeah?”
It’s all hard. Hard, vascular flesh like a rock spearing her open, sinking in, sedate and measured. Viciously careful and slick, accompanied by a vicious stretch, despite the lengthy preparation. He’s measured in the way he stuffs in, nearly centimeter by centimeter, pausing along the way down his shaft. Even still, it’s an ache that settles deep the further he sheathes — the kind she feels down to the marrow in the little bones constructing her spine, her pelvis, her ribs when they refuse to expand for her lungs.
“Relax, sweetheart, relax. Squeezing me so snug.”
It’s just advice, but it’s strained; filthy. It makes her cunt twitch.
“Push out a little for me. It’ll— yeah, slide in nice an’ easy if you do,” Harry coaxes, pausing the leisure roll forward of his hips. Her hole flutters over him. He makes it another inch.
“Just like that, little bird.”
She’s been holding her breath for twenty-three seconds by the time Harry pats at one of her hands and instructs, “Play with your pretty clit.”
It’s sore, but not in the way that it aches as he presses into her. The pads of her fingers brush milky cum that’s managed to seep out with the flex of her muscles, and they draw a circle over the sensitively overstimulated bud that droplets have leaked over. Her lips pry apart that way her fingertips pry bliss into the outstretched palms of her neurons, grappling for pleasure.
“Oh.”
“S’it sore?”
“Mm-Mhm.”
“But it feels good,” Harry states.
It’s just that — a statement, no inquiry to the borderline prideful cadence of his words when he sinks in three-quarters of the way. It’s enough to have her breathlessly wheezing over her noises, digits stuttering in their shapes as she pinches at the hood.
“Breathe,” Tiger chastises.
For the first time, his voice is whetted, like the edge of a cutlass, and she imagines his dark eyebrows creasing. The tattoo of a ruddy handprint — a smack — gleans a loud cry enmeshed from the sheer sting of it and the way Y/N jolts, bouncing forward and back on unanticipated inches. It’s cruel. Mean with his peal of laughter.
He’s soft again. Mirthy. “You did that, not me.”
“You startled me,” she argues. Her chortles flux into another, blunt, “Oh,” when Harry rocks out a little and back in, cooing in feigned ruth.
“Oh, did I?” Harry murmurs, trailing a wide palm up the indent of her arched spine with shallow plunges, “Poor baby.”
She squirms when his fingertips wind to the vale of her waist, scrabbling up the ladder of her ribcage lightly. It’s only for a split second, but it draws a squawk and a string of giggles; in turn, a low hiss from him.
“Fuck,” Harry grapples onto her hips, craning his neck, a grin lining his syllables when he admits, “Every time you laugh, s’like, squeezing me.”
It’s devious — the way his palm scopes the cinched flesh in the same area it had the first time, reveling in the squeal the wriggling pads pry. Her jaw clinches and she nearly bites through her tongue when her teeth latch together. Despite the stretch, her hips lurch forward on their own volition and her knees shamber towards the headboard, the circles over her clit all but forgotten as her arms outstretch for freedom. It only gives him a wider canvas.
A soft huff seeps from his nostrils, like the view of her hectically sprawling is entertainment. He pins her bones in place by the hips and lugs her back, sharply enough for her to groan at the pump into her.
“No,” Harry scolds, tacking an ankle with his hand. He bends one of her knees back and keeps a grip over a love handle on the opposite side. “Where d’you think you’re going? I wasn’t done.”
He’s polite enough to cease the tickle torture. Considerate, on his part, she supposes, since he’s got the sole of her foot aimed to the Rough sawn oak beamed ceiling. The gunge of kindling lust spumes, and it clogs the sharp anticipation of his thumb pressing to the tender spot between her heel and the ball of her foot, like cruor. Instead, Tiger hones on jabbing into her fluttery asshole, drawing a slew of progressively humiliating sounds. Her top teeth seal over the sheet and she gnaws the fabric in between her incisors like a feral dog.
She doesn’t really get it until his balls are slapping against her flesh with the fervor of his tempo; what it’s like to be used and abused by Tiger. Mostly, it entails being glazed with cum, inside and out; utilizing the same loads to swipe over her clit that leaks from her sloppy cunt as he pounds into her ass with little mercy. No intent to give. And still, he gives plenty. She feels him deep, spearing somewhere between the knobs of her spine and the soft flesh sheathing her tummy. She can’t recall a time she’s felt so full, vena thrumming something sanguine mottled by him. The ache spurs the bliss building at her pulsing clit, and she retires to chew at the back of her free hand, tucked under her wet face.
Just up until the point when he yanks at her hair from behind, spiking tingles at the crown of her head, and directs through husky breaths, “Sit up. Up. On your hands.”
Y/N clambers. An inky forearm hitches over the column of her throat from behind. A sharper arch, a muscular bind over her neck, a palm that dwarfs the knob of her shoulder, and hammering at her backside with no remorse. His nails claw into her love handle, and in turn, Y/N scrapes at the tits of his mermaid, her flowy tendrils, her tail.
“You really— are a little anal whore, aren’t you, little bird?”
She slobbers over his forearm, “Yes, Sir— oh— shit, oh, fuck,” so he spiles her mouth with a couple of his fingers. She nips at his knuckles, and he digs green into her deltoid.
“Fhuh—“ Y/N slurs around the digits.
He strokes a stuttery whimper from her taste buds.
She keens, shrill, when Tiger slips his fingers out and smears her own spit over her cheek, “Oh, fuck— you’re so deep—“
Her eyes are screwed, and even still she feels the pant of his grin against the opposite cheek. The way his lips ghost and graze her skin wetly with a low murmur, “Fuck, yeah.”
He twists his head and siphons the same fingers to his own mouth, gets them wetter, and bats the hand between her legs away to pinch at her clit. To fuse saliva, and cum, and desperation, working ardent over her bud.
“Such a fucking mess. S’leaking all over my balls, you know that?” Harry purrs, nipping at her earlobe when she whines, trembling, “M’gonna fuck it back into you, after.”
Y/N erupts. It spalls into flinders with sharp borders, somewhere between his cockhead burrowing deep in her tummy, the stretch around him, the pads swiping at her clit, and the filth he muzzles into her hair. She shakes like a waving bract, torn apart in his palms, spewing cries. The tight spasm over his cock has Harry chasing his own release, shuddering behind her and doubling down in a brutal tempo that draws soft whimpers from her mouth. The sharpest one comes when his chest rumbles flush with her back on a long groan, and he twitches in her as he presses deep and empties every bit that he can manage.
Rough sex, even with a borderline stranger, merits a soft touch to meld the jagged edges of the shards back together. When he seeps out, hissing softly and bobbing, slicked with cum and lubricant, Y/N crumples into the sheets like the junctions of her joints have unfused, slipping from their sockets to melt away into a puddle. It provides an optimal view of her abused holes, one puckering at the air and dripping fresh cum. Just as he’d promised, Harry spoons a rill that trickles out with the pad of his thumb and brushes it back over the slick hole he’d just been tucked into. Feeds it back in to coax a mewl.
“Two for two,” Tiger parrots, dragging the backs of his knuckles up her thigh. It’s an obvious reference to two orgasms each, now, and wears a smile.
If Y/N wasn’t so melty, she’d probably snort. She manages something like a grunt with her face planted to the mattress. She’s probably losing brain cells. The bed doesn’t feel breathable.
Harry nudges at her hips until her pelvis sinks flush against the sheets and her feet dangle over the edge of the mattress. Then, he crawls up over her, cock brushing her clean skin soiled along the way. She rolls over against her will. Gets bracketed by his arms as he looms over, mussed, damp coils of his hair pendulous.
“Hello.”
She swallows. Her ass is going to absolutely ache tomorrow. Y/N finds she doesn’t mind.
“…Hello.”
“You took that well,” Harry tells her, head cocked and talc glinting.
The boundaries of his ruddy mouth tick upwards into a lax smile, and even still, there’s an eagerly …awake mien to his composition. She wonders how, after that, and how his cock hasn’t gone down, a plurry in shade and sloppily oiled. It prods against the bone at the side of her pelvis.
“You …gave it well,” she responds, forming the words despite the way they feel garbled in her mouth, between her parted teeth, off her lips like the crevices of her gums have been numbed with lidocaine.
He ducks his chin and laughs.
Y/N ends up lodged by his armpit, tangled by the firm muscle of his arms, thighs flush together, with her cheek squished to the plush of his pec; a cushion over where his heartbeat is clattering.
“I’m all sticky.”
“You like it,” Tiger sighs, raking a palm back through his tendrils, off his forehead, and musses the tousled curls there further.
It feels nice when his fingertips graze up her nape, sliding into the forestry of her roots. They tug lightly at the follicles at the back of her skull in a way that makes euphoria seep down her nape. It settles in the first knob of her spine and slink through to the next. She rolls her shoulders.
“D’you wanna shower? I’ve got one of those rain showerheads on the ceiling.”
If her inner thighs weren’t crusting over, the suggestion would probably feel like a much more intimate dyadic. Especially because she’s well aware he’ll slide in alongside her, slippery. Soapy froth sluicing down his abdomen, sudsy palms cupping at her backside, trailing between her thighs, and rinsing the evidence of their collaboration down the drain. It tastes like another sex tape altogether.
Harry has grapefruit musk body wash and a citrusy shampoo in his shower. They’re the same ones she’ll lather into her own matted bird’s nest.
He notes, from the sink, twisting the silvery band and thumbing over the center, where a tetragonal, incarnadine stone is seated, “You got my rings all sticky.”
Y/N stretches her arms over her head. There’s semen spilling down the insides of her legs. She twists her head and meets him in the mirror just in time to see his eyes crest, his mouth purse and carve into a simper.
!! this series was originally harry styles fanfiction, i edited it and changed his last name :)
Description: a series of one shots following 'informed consent: short story' -- in which mia and harry reconcile now that finals are done, and they finally have time for each other
Word count: 17, 604
Content: fluff!! smut: grinding, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, masturbation, overstimulation, handjob, mentions of a breeding kink (if you squint), soft dom, mommy-kink
informed consent masterlist
general masterlist
//
Harry was yawning.
He had been yawning for days.
People always said your student years were the best and most fun part of life. His parents always assured him he’d look back on these years and be envious at how quickly it flew by. They told him that with a look on their faces that let him know they were thinking of fond memories of a time where they were more carefree.
Sadly enough, Harry felt anything but carefree as these exams were killing his ass.
It had been two weeks of non-stop exams, the one after the other, and he had no time left in between to catch up on sleep.
On top of that, his mind was continuously clouded. With Mia.
They had been dating for a little while now, and with Christmas around it would mark their two month anniversary.
They hadn’t discussed the holidays all that much. Mia’s days had been filled with anxiety about her exams. Even though she had lost her passion for psychology and wanted to switch after the semester was over – which she still hadn’t told her parents about – she still wanted to pass her exams to get her credits and start well in anthropology.
They hadn’t seen each other all week except for quick little coffee dates after their exams. But even the past three days, those hadn’t happened because they both needed to study very badly. And even though they both pouted about it, they also decided to study separately in order to focus as good as possible. Harry felt like that was very mature of them.
They both knew they were constantly lost in staring at one another or heavy make-out sessions – that sometimes led to them rolling around the bed and forgetting their books altogether – which is why they took a little distance to put their focus on this.
But Harry’s stomach was fluttering with the thought that tomorrow they had their final exam. Harry had his at nine, and afterwards he’d go home and sleep it off. Mia had hers at one in the afternoon so she’d come to his place afterwards.
No matter how much they wanted to spend time together, just the two of them, Harry’s friends had insisted on a night together. And so Harry decided to bring Mia to keep his friends happy but at least be able to see her.
He was sure she’d tiredly fall asleep on his shoulder before the clock struck midnight, but he couldn’t blame her. Secretly, he looked forward to carrying her to bed and tucking her into his chest while cuddling her to sleep.
He missed the feeling of her, like sleeping just didn’t feel as satisfying anymore without his body curled around hers.
He sighed and pushed his hair back as the words on his notes blurred together. It was late and he was crammed underneath his little dwarf desk where he could hardly fit his legs underneath. His back was sore from folding himself in all sorts of positions and there were too many empty candy wrappers around to count.
Harry blinked a few times before reaching for the coffee pot, only to find he had already drank the entire thing.
“Fuck.” He groaned, rubbing his eye with the back of his hand and stifling a yawn before his white sock-clad feet dragged him into the kitchen. All his roommate’s doors were closed as it was nearing midnight, and while Harry prepared more coffee, he dialled Mia’s number.
After four rings and no answer, he fit his lip between his teeth in thought she might already be asleep. Or too busy studying to properly notice the buzzing or ringing of her phone. On the other hand, Harry could envision her frantically rummaging her desk in order to find her phone as she heard his call coming in.
“H-Hello?” The breathlessness in her tone made Harry grin as he could fit her voice directly to the image he had put in his brain for her on a quest for her phone that she once more lost.
He chuckled, “Hi, m’sweetheart. Am I interrupting?”
Mia caught her breath from the other end, “No, no, not at all. Sorry, just lost my phone again. I can never understand how it ends up underneath all of that stuff.” She complained and Harry smiled, just imagining her pouty face. His fingers literally tingled when missing her so much and his chest grew tight with love.
“How’s your day? Did you take a little nap?”
“No.” Mia murmured, “Didn’t have time for it. H, I still have so much to do.”
Harry pressed his lips together, hearing the defeat in her voice. Mia was anything but a night owl and Harry had noticed she always had a bit of a harder time studying once the sun went down. In mornings, she was chirpy and awake though. He paced around his kitchen, taking the same three steps back and forth as the coffee ran, “You still have time, baby. It’s at one, right?”
Mia hummed, “Yes, at one. And then I’m coming straight home to you.”
Harry closed his eyes as a smile crept up his lips.
Home.
He loved the way that sounded.
He felt utterly giddy at the prospect of seeing his love again after multiple days of being separated from her. Harry was attached to his Mia, he knew that much. “I can’t wait.” He murmured, “I seriously miss you so much.”
“Harry.” Mia giggled, “It’s only been a couple of days.”
“And still, I miss you.” He repeated with a smile, just imagining her with a soft flush to her cheeks. Harry nibbled his lip, “Can we change it to facetime? I want to see your face.”
“Oh.” Mia mumbled in surprise, “But I look really bad. My hair’s a mess, I’m wearing your jumper but I spilled strawberry jam on it for dinner.”
Harry laughed and shook his head, “I don’t care. You’re always gorgeous to me, Mia. Please?”
He heard her exhaling a breath from her end of the line and then she mumbled, “Okay.”
Harry’s heart grew twice its size when his phone buzzed with a request to put his camera on. He eagerly clicked it and a blurry Mia appeared, his device needing a little time to get her in focus. Harry’s body melted at the sight of her huddled into his dark grey jumper that he left with her. It was a little small on him and Mia adored the oversized piece of clothing. He could see the jam stain on her chest.
It near swallowed her whole and made her look incredibly soft, along with the messy bun right on top of her head. A few strands fell out and he could see a dark green velvet scrunchy between her dark brown pieces of hair that it held together.
“Hey, you.” Mia murmured with a soft smile and a gentle voice and Harry’s legs trembled, shaking his head to himself with a soft chuckle in disbelief, “I’m so fucking in love with you.”
On the other end of the line, Mia blushed furiously at Harry’s blurting words. She froze on her desk chair at his confession, watching his dimples crevice his cheeks as he smiled widely at her sight, and she returned it with hearts in her eyes, watching her boyfriend through the screen of her phone.
She could see the fatigue in his face, the way he put a small clip in his hair to keep the rogue curls away, dressed in a light blue jumper with the school logo on it. His nose ring glimmered in his faint kitchen lighting and Mia had yet to get over the fact he had a hoop through his nose. It looked so sexy on him.
“I’m very in love with you, too.” She whispered back with a shy smile and Harry smiled wider, losing himself in her eyes for a second before he cleared his throat, “So what’re you doing?”
Mia glanced around her room and shrugged, “Not much. I’m revising, but it’s just… all floating through one another at this point.” She sighed. Harry’s face turned sympathetic. He knew Mia’s dyslexia struggle and tried with all his might to help her, but this time he had his own stuff to focus on so he couldn’t spend all his time helping her study the course materials.
She had to do it by herself. And that was mainly her own choice, because besides Harry, she didn’t really accept much help.
“How about you?” Mia asked, leaning her cheek on her pulled up knee. She wore leggings that allowed her to bend her legs in whichever way she wanted. Mia sat on her desk chair in all possible ways, bending and stretching her legs and sitting on them until they turned sore.
“Making some coffee.” Harry sighed before exhaling a small yawn, “I need it.”
“That’s actually a really good idea.” Mia nodded, “I’m going to make me some, too.”
She held her phone in hand while exiting her bedroom. The strip of light coming from Hazel’s room signalled her still being awake too, and Mia lowered the volume of her phone a little as she padded over to Hazel’s bedroom.
“Hazel?” She softly called, knocking on her door twice, “Do you want some coffee?”
No answer, and it made Mia frown. She glanced at her screen to see Harry curiously following along and Mia nibbled her lip, putting her phone down on the hallway table, “I’m going in really quick.”
“Okay.” Harry nodded, staring at the ceiling of her hallway as he heard Mia opening up the door. The sight made Mia’s insides melt, Hazel just fast asleep on her desk.
Her desk light was on, her cheek resting on a mountain of notes and a pen still stuck between her fingers.
Mia smiled at the sight and picked the pen from between Hazel’s fingers, quickly clearing her bed from the clothes and books were on it until she gently nudged Hazel’s shoulder, “You should go to bed.”
Hazel fluttered her eyes open and groaned, “Shit.”
“No, it’s okay.” Mia whispered, urging her up by her elbow, “Come on. I’ll set your alarm. Exam’s at one, right?”
Hazel yawned, hardly opening her eyes as Mia led her to bed and she nodded, “Yeah.”
“I’ll set it at eight so you can still revise.” Mia spoke. Hazel just hummed and fell right asleep in her bed as Mia unlocked her phone to set Hazel’s alarm, putting the device down on her nightstand before she went around the room to kill the lights for the night.
“Sorry.” She whispered to Harry once she held her phone again. She was met with the sight of him back in his bedroom, his phone popped up on his desk with it leaning against his laptop and a mug of coffee in front of him, “’S okay, lovie. Hazel’s tired?”
“Yeah.” Mia nodded, “She fell asleep at her desk.”
He snorted out a soft laugh, “First semester philosophy is no joke.”
Mia turned a light on her kitchen to get working on the coffee, “And how was your day? Do you think you’ll be able to kill it tomorrow?”
“I don’t know.” Harry sighed, “It’s really quite difficult. Kant was a dick.”
Mia’s eyes widened, “Harry.” She chuckled in disbelief and he shrugged, “Seriously. Like I love psychology but I just don’t understand a word of what he’s saying…” Harry spoke, “People can never say what Kant said, only what they understood he said. And it’s all so interpretative. That fucking synthetic a prioris.” Harry complained.
She smiled at his little frustration towards his field. Mia felt like it took her mind off of her own exams to listen to Harry. Her fingers pressed down on the buttons of her coffee machine as she leaned on the counter with her phone popped up, “Tomorrow’s our last exam.” She smiled.
Harry leaned his head back, exposing the veins in his neck that really only reminded Mia of one particular moment – and it had her clenching her thighs together – before he sighed, “Fuck yes. ‘M so excited to spend Christmas break with you.”
Christmas was in less than a week, and it was safe to say that Mia had no plans. She hadn’t spoken to her parents in a while and she assumed they’d take a holiday again like they had done the past few years. Mia had spent Christmas alone now two years in a row.. She nibbled her lip a little and Harry caught the fallen look on her face. “Hey,” He softly cleared his throat, “we’ll talk about it tomorrow, yeah?”
“Okay.” Mia nodded, “Are you sure, by the way, about me stopping by after my exam? You can sleep a little longer if you want and we can meet up in the evening.”
“No.” Harry frowned, “Shit, no. I miss you so much, it’s all I’ve been looking forward to.”
“Me too.” Mia giggled, blushing once more over Harry’s affection of her. She felt so seen by him, so loved. She gave him a loving smiled, “Love you.” She whispered.
“Love you too, my darling.” Harry crooned. Mia grabbed her cup of coffee now that it was all done and grabbed the jar of sugar, putting in two spoons. The entire thing made Harry laugh, and he continued telling Mia how unsurprised he was that she liked her drink so sweetened, because she was so sweet.
“Are you going to spend the night tomorrow?” Harry hopefully asked. Mia took a sip of her way too hot coffee while nodding shortly, “I-I think so, yeah.”
Harry smiled, “Yay.”
“Yay.” Mia giggled back and he chuckled deeper, “Missed you in that way, too.” He admitted.
Mia’s breath stuck in her throat a little when a tingle shot up her spine. She sat down at the kitchen table, drawing her knees up again and leaning her cheek on them, “Y-Yeah?”
Harry smirked at the screen and took a sip of his coffee, nodding, “Mhm. ‘S been rough.”
Mia didn’t know what it was. She had never experimented, she had never been touched, but ever since Harry laid one finger on her she was just… on fire the entire time. She’d get random zaps of electricity between her legs at the thought of him, and even now watching him on the screen drinking his coffee, she was so attracted to him.
“It has?” She asked in a small voice. Harry cocked his head to the side with a smirk, “Mhm. D’you want me to tell you more, Mi?”
She fit her lip between her teeth, trying to hide her flush in the wide neckline of Harry’s jumper as she struggled to find an answer. Yes, she wanted him to continue. Her body was mesmerized by him, and she wanted so much. But he was there, and she was here, and the one other time she had tried to touch herself, it just didn’t work.
It was frustrating, knowing he was the only one to really make her feel that good. And Harry took great pride in it too, turning completely arrogant when he realized how much Mia depended on him. He had her in the palm of his hand, but little did she know it was the other way around too.
Although Harry had no problem reaching orgasm with just the thought of her, he did know he was ruined for everyone else. Mia hadn’t even touched him, and they hadn’t had sex, but there was just something so vulnerable about the way they were intimate right now, that was more special than anything Harry had ever done with someone else.
They were taking their time, and it was delicate and he loved that. The no-rushing, the savouring one another, the teasing, the wanting, the yearning. God, he yearned for her.
“Hm?” He encouraged her.
Mia exhaled shakily, “M-Maybe tomorrow.” She softly spoke and Harry chuckled, “Why’s that?”
“Because you’re not here.” She shyly spoke and Harry hummed with another little smirk, “That’s true. ‘M not there to make you feel good. Fuck – Mia, don’t even make me think about it right now, I’ll get hard.”
Her eyes widened more as Harry leaned back again in his chair to level out his breathing. After a moment of silence between them, he lifted his head again to look at her through the screen. Mia blushed either way, even though they were apart and he was pixelated, it still felt intimidating to be looked at like that.
“We should get you like… a toy or something.”
Mia’s laugh sputtered out before she could stop it, and she stared with wide eyes as she clamped her hand in front of her mouth. She couldn’t help it, her body tingling as giggles erupted out of her throat and she tried to keep them down. She knew she was laughing out of surprise and shock more than anything, and luckily Harry just laughed along with her.
The subject changed back to school and they talked for a little more until both finishing up their coffee.
Mia’s heart beat from the caffeine and she dreaded having to go back to her room.
“You should just go to sleep, m’heart.” Harry spoke in worry and Mia shook her head, “No, just want to do two more chapters.”
He stretched in his desk chair with a yawn, “I’ll probably do an all-nighter.”
“That’s crazy.” Mia murmured and Harry shrugged, “I’ll be able to sleep it off tomorrow. And then at night with you in my arms. Best night’s sleep I’ll have had in weeks.”
Mia smiled and the thought excited her. She had missed him a lot as well. School had been so busy and the days flew by, but Mia missed a little happy in her days. And it was him. It also distracted her from some real-life things she was running from, such as telling her parents about her switch in education.
“I’ll text you before I go to bed.” Mia promised and Harry nodded. They puckered their lips and blew kisses at one another through the phone before ending the call and burying their noses back in the books.
***
Mia had a skip in her step when she walked campus grounds the next day. The snow crunched under her boots as she walked between tired students and people heading to bars to celebrate the end of their exams.
She tucked her hair behind her ear, hurrying towards Harry’s dorm after finishing her final exam.
In psychology, ever.
She didn’t really know how it went, her brain was too tired to have any more thought, but she didn’t really care either. She felt light and carefree, and for the first time in weeks there was just nothing for her to do. No deadlines, no assignments, no studying. Only Harry.
It took Mia four hours to finish her exam, and she was the last student to exit the auditorium after reading every question about six times to make sure she got the words right. Her dyslexia didn’t mingle well with fatigue and she felt exhausted from having to focus that long, but now she was alert and awake to go see her lover.
Her knuckles urgently came down on his door after a fellow student let her up, and before they came down a third time, the door was yanked open by a breathless Harry.
His eyes were wild and sparkly, his lips up in an eager little smile. She could tell he had been sleeping, and the sight of him so soft and warm made her melt. His hair was tousled, his shirt a little wrinkled and his sweats low on his hips.
“Hi.” She piped out.
Harry chuckled, “Fuck. Hi.” He took a step closer to fit his arm around her waist and pull her into him. Mia giggled as she fell into his chest, body curving around him easily and she exhaled in relief into his neck to feel him around her again.
Harry tightly wrapped his arms around Mia, holding her close while inhaling her scent. Stroking through her dark hair once – which she pulled out of the braid after finishing her exam – he angled her head to kiss her.
Mia’s breath got stolen when Harry’s lips fell on her own, fitting together like puzzle pieces as she pushed herself up on her toes, cupped his jaws and kissed him back.
He grabbed her tighter, moaning softly into their kiss before he pulled back for air. Their lips kept brushing together, nose bumps making them giggle as Harry held her close by the small of her back, “Missed you so much.”
“I missed you too.” Mia whispered back, kissing him again. Harry relaxed into her, sliding one hand down to her ass and cover her cheek up completely with his palm, giving a teasing squeeze before he groaned, “This god damn skirt again.” He mumbled, feeling the fabric of the familiar skirt underneath his fingers.
Mia shuddered when she felt his fingers everywhere, dancing down her spine and slipping underneath her coat, while his other hand lowered down to her thigh where the tights covered her. Her hands were tangled in his hair and Harry walked them backwards, blindly moving through his apartment. He pushed Mia’s bag off her shoulder and it thudded to the floor, their mouths still attached while waddling towards what Mia could only assume was Harry’s bedroom. Her coat got lost somewhere along the way.
Her eyes were closed the entire time, staring at the colourful galaxies behind her lids when his tongue slipped into her mouth and she near buckled through her knees.
Mia got pushed up against the door of Harry’s bedroom once inside, and he pulled back for air, “Sorry.” He panted, “Sorry. ‘M really trying to take it slow.”
He ground his hips into her, and Mia gasped as she wrapped her arms tight around his neck. Harry’s fingers were already pulling up her skirt to palm her backside in his large hands, “Fuck, Mia…” He groaned, “I’m really trying, promise.” He kissed down her neck, fully lost in her, “But I missed you so much, ‘m so horny.” He spilled.
Mia flushed pink at Harry’s truth and he continued pressing wet kisses to her jaw while his hands explored her, unable to touch everywhere he wanted to. Harry kissed up to her ear, staring fondly at the golden bumble bee earring in her lobe that reminded him of their little trip down to the shop a few weeks back.
Grinding his hips into hers again, pushing her further into the door, Mia’s jaw opened a little as she breathed out a chuckle, “Y-You really missed me.” She referred to the bulge in his sweatpants that pushed into her thigh. Harry chuckled into her neck, squeezing his hands over her ass, “Yes.” He shamefully admitted, “Wanked every night, thinking of you. ‘M sorry, baby, I just… god, I want you so bad.” He kept apologizing for his blunt and dirty spontaneous thoughts.
Mia shuddered and Harry felt it, smirking into her neck. His shy girlfriend had a side to her he had yet to discover, but Harry was ecstatic do so eventually. He kissed her neck up to her ear, “Went to bed to take a nap after my exam,” he murmured, “woke up hard, I dreamed of you. Always dreaming of you.”
“Harry…” Mia whispered, letting her head thud back into the door when she felt the throbbing between her legs that only he could cause. Her legs tensed and he pushed her skirt up higher to grab her thigh and groan into her neck, “M’dreamy girl. Can we kiss a little, Mi? Can I feel you? Please?”
“Yes.” She moaned out without second thought, cheeks flaming up in embarrassment of the noise escaping her lips. Harry moaned back with his lips pressed to the column of her throat, rutting his hips forward again. His kissed got lower, towards her collarbone and eventually over her clothed chest. Mia wore a cropped knitted jumper, the same high waisted black skirt that Harry knew so well and some boots. Harry lowered down until he sat on his knees, staring up at her through his lashes.
Mia’s heartbeat quickened, her breath shortening when her hands fell down limply. Harry blindly found the zipper of her left boot, urging her foot up to slide it off before repeating the same action to her other foot. In her tights, Harry’s hand moved up her calves, the back of her thighs until hiking her skirt up and exposing her lace underwear through the black tights she wore.
“Mia.” Harry moaned, leaning forward to kiss her covered pelvis and Mia’s eyes fluttered at the feeling of his firm lips above her clit, even though separated by a few layers she could still feel the warmth coming from him.
Harry got up to his feet again, and with a sharp tug to her arm, Mia was back in his arms. She let Harry throw her around, following his lead and trusting him fully when she bounced on his single bed and he fell on top of her.
Harry held his hands back, kissing on her lips as he groaned to himself, “I’m trying to be – fuck,” he cut himself off with a whimper when Mia parted her legs for him to rest in between, the skirt bunched up around her hips while she locked a leg around his thigh to keep him pulled in. His hands balled into fists, gripping the pillow she was laying on as she kissed him back, “I’m trying to be such a gentleman.” Harry spoke in a strained voice.
Mia arched her back into him, her hair fanned out with Harry’s comforting weight on top of her. She had never felt this wanted before, and she ran her fingers through his slightly longer brown locks while trying to keep their lips attached, but Harry insisted on breaking their dancing tongues with his dirty talk.
“God damn, I’m trying, but I wanna fuck you so bad, baby.” He choked out.
Mia froze, her body stilling underneath his with her lips in a mid-pucker against his. He continued kissing her bottom lip as she blinked at him. He had his eyes closed, brows scrunched up while trying to contain himself.
“Oh.” Mia mumbled, the sound stupidly coming out of her mouth but she didn’t know what else to say. Her cheeks were red, her eyes wide and shocked and Harry felt the tension in her once pliant body, causing him to open his eyes.
He regretted his words immediately, licking his lip and shaking his head, “Oh, no, no, no, Mi. I-I didn’t mean it like that. Shit- sorry.” He apologized, “I’m – don’t want to push you. At all. Sorry.”
Mia swallowed and forced a small smile as Harry still caught his breath, worried eyes scanning over her face. He stroked her hair once, “Mia? Please, I’m sorry… That came out wrong. Sorry.”
“No,” She whispered, “it’s okay. Sorry. I-I just… I don’t think I’m ready for that. Yet. It’s – uh, a little much. Scares me a little.” She admitted in a murmur.
Harry immediately nodded, “No, I know. I just want you so much, but I don’t care in what way. Want you to feel safe with me, and comfortable. You drive me crazy either way. Promise, ‘m about to finish in my pants just from kissing you.”
Mia blushed deeper and her lips curled up into a little smile. She felt more comfortable again, the back of her foot rubbing up Harry’s calf as she melted into the mattress a little more. She nibbled her lip before gathering her courage, “I really missed you too.” She whispered.
Harry sighed, gently kissing Mia’s jaw up and down a few times in featherlight kisses. The sweatpants around his hips did a horrible job concealing his bulge, and Mia felt it pressing into her inner thigh with each little movement he made.
“I know you did.” Harry murmured back, nudging his nose into her jaw to tilt her head and kiss lower towards her collarbones. Mia mindlessly played with his hair, “M-Missed being close to you.”
Harry breathed out against her skin, “Close like this?”
“Uh-huh.” She panted out, head thrown back while drunk on his kisses, “O-Or closer.”
Harry hummed in approval of her words and his mind was racing with every filthy thought he could come up with. Closer than this, his tongue between her legs, his fingers exploring her to eventually split her open and make love to her in a way he’s never needed anyone ever before.
He swallowed thickly, “Closer, hm? Want me to take my shirt off?”
“Yes.” Mia puffed out, “Please.”
“So polite.” Harry whispered, kissing her on her lips, a long touch that made Mia floaty. His tongue swept against her bottom lip and then Harry pulled back. His hair messy, his lips swollen, his chest heaving and his sweats tenting around him. He swallowed, “Can I take your tights off first? See your little panties?”
Mia remembered the soft purple set she put on before leaving for her exam. Something Harry had yet to see, but she wanted to surprise him a little bit. They had been intimate a handful of times yet the last time they tried, Mia was on her period and then exams hit and neither of them had really had time to spare ever since.
Not only was Mia excited to explore Harry more – even if she was shocked at his earlier truth – but she was also excited just to spend the night with him. It was lovely to feel him taking up space on the mattress, fitting himself around her body as Mia easily slept and Harry molded himself to be as close to her in every possible way.
Waking up to his sleepy face… It had to be one of Mia’s favourite things.
“Yes.” Mia nodded, and Harry smirked softly – something Mia found so incredibly sexy – before he let his eyes glide down her body. Her legs were bent around him, material of her skirt around her waist from Harry’s wandering hands before he stroked his thumbs over the waistband of her thighs and gave her hips a gentle squeeze.
Putting his thumbs into her tights, he was about to pull them down when there as a knock on the door.
Mia’s eyes flew to the door in surprise, and she honestly wasn’t sure why Louis had bothered to knock when he was going to open the door about a second later without waiting for an answer.
Mia yelped and Harry threw himself on her, shielding her from Louis. She wasn’t naked or exposed, but the skirt around her hips could show Louis a glimpse of her shape which Harry felt possessive over. Mia was his girlfriend and he didn’t want anyone else to see her.
“Oh!” Louis shrieked, immediately covering his eyes with his hands, “Shit! Shit, shit, shit! Didn’t see a boob, promise!” He shouted while blindly stumbling back into the living room.
Harry growled a curse under his breath while his fingers pulled on Mia’s skirt to cover her up.
“Didn’t see anything!” Louis repeated in a shrill voice, “Also, hi Mia!”
“Hi.” Mia squeaked back, completely mortified of being caught, even if Louis had walked in right before Mia had been about to get more naked. He hadn’t seen anything, but their position was compromising enough and Harry shot her an apologetic look, “Door doesn’t lock, sorry.”
“It’s fine.” She hushed back, tugging on her skirt a little more before Harry climbed off the bed and offered her a hand. Mia fixed her hair and smoothed her hands over her clothes while Harry pressed his lips together, quickly putting a hand down his pants to adjust himself. He wasn’t about to get relief anytime soon with his friends home.
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” Louis was pacing around the kitchen with his hands in his hair, his eyes wide when Mia and Harry came out of the bedroom. “I’m so sorry!” He apologized.
“If you knock, you fuckin’ wait for someone to answer, twat!” Harry glared at him, running his fingers through his hair to smooth it a little and Louis sighed, “I know.”
“What are you even doing here?! You don’t live here!” Harry continued until Mia placed a delicate hand on his lower back, “Hey, it’s okay. Nothing happened.” Mia politely smiled at Louis to reassure him and Harry relaxed a little with her fingers drawing circles on his tense muscles. Mia’s hand made its way to his bicep next, giving a gentle squeeze before she followed his arm down towards his hand and laced their fingers together.
Harry sighed and gave her fingers a squeeze, leaning into his Mia a little bit, “What time is it?”
“Six.” Louis responded, lazily leaning against their counter. Harry tilted his head to the side, “Didn’t Niall say we’d meet at eight?”
“Yeah, but I was bored.”
Harry refrained from rolling his eyes, instead focussing on Mia’s thumb that drew small circles into the back of his hand, “Where are they anyway?”
“Probably at some bar.” Louis shrugged before diverting his attention to Mia, “Prepare to see a drunk Niall, Mi. He’s been drinking since noon.”
“Since noon?!” Mia exclaimed and Louis chuckled, his longer brown hair pushed back with a headband as he nodded, “Yeah, and he’s Irish so it’s worse.”
Harry removed his hand from Mia’s and wrapped his arm around her shoulder to pull her into his side, kissing the top of her head, “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. Are you sure you want to hang out with us tonight?”
“Yeah, aren’t you super tired? I’ve slept until now.” Louis yawned, his legs dangling over the edge of the counter. Harry hummed in agreement, “Maybe you should take a little nap. You can take my bed.”
Mia shook her head, “No, no. If I go to sleep now, I’ll be done for the rest of the night. I’ll – uh… power through. Maybe we should go get some coffee?”
“You sure?” Harry murmured, stroking his fingers over Mia’s shoulder and she glanced up at him with a soft smile, “Yes, ‘m sure.”
“Coffee it is!” Louis chirped, pushing himself off of the counter to head back into his own dorm to get changed, while Harry disappeared into his bedroom to do the same. Mia walked around his living space for a bit while she waited for both boys, and couldn’t help herself but clean up their kitchen a little bit.
Three boys during exams could only mean a filthy apartment, and she was right when seeing the undone dishes and the dirt stuck to the sink. She placed everything in the dishwasher and used hot water to clean out the sink a little, humming a soft melody under her breath until Harry came back out.
He breathed out a laugh, “Couldn’t help yourself, could you?”
Mia shyly rolled back on her heels and shifted in her stance with soft flushed cheeks, “Nope.”
“Cutie.” He murmured, using the opportunity of Louis not being in the room to grab her chin between his fingers and pull her into him. Their lips met in a smiley, gentle kiss with Mia breathing giggles into Harry’s mouth and him teasing her by kissing her even more.
“You sure you wouldn’t rather spend the evening with Hazel?” Harry checked again. Mia shook her head, “No, it’s fine. She’s inviting a bunch of people to the apartment so… I don’t know. ‘S not really my scene.” She admitted in a shy mumble before licking her lip, “You… you don’t mind me here, do you?”
Harry’s brows raised, “What? No, not at all. Angel, baby… missed you so. All I’ve been dreaming of all week. ‘M so happy you’re staying the night. Just wish we had the place to ourselves, you know?”
She smiled and nodded, “Mhm. Me too. But your friends are nice and we’ve got something to celebrate, so… let’s make the best of it.”
“Look at you, such a positive attitude.” Harry crooned in a tease and Mia rolled her eyes playfully as Harry palmed her ass over her skirt, “Never thought I’d see the day you’d have to convince me to leave the house and socialize.” He continued.
“I’m not that bad.” Mia chuckled and Harry smiled, smearing his lips against her own again, “I know, ‘m just teasing.”
She felt the butterflies in her stomach flying around violently and pushed herself up on her toes, pressing her body further into Harry’s while tightening her grip around his neck with her arms. Giving a gentle kiss to his inviting lips, it almost felt like levitating, “Missed you.” She whispered again. Mia hoped Harry got the message, because she really really missed him. As a partner, a best friend and someone she could be herself around and talk to about everything.
A few days apart was too much.
“Missed you too, lovie.” Harry whispered back and then Louis walked in on them again which caused Harry and Mia to break apart quickly while Louis apologized profusely again for not knocking.
The trio made their way outside and braved the cold to head into a café and order some coffee to stay awake throughout the night.
***
A few hours later, they were sharing some Chinese food on the couch of Harry’s apartment that he shared with Niall and Liam. Zayn and Louis were here too, with Mia squeezed on the couch between Harry and Zayn. Harry’s arm was protectively around her, pulling her more on his lap than anything – but mainly trying to create some space between her and Zayn because Harry turned into a caveman at just the thought of someone else this close to her even if it was one if his best mates.
Harry was especially affectionate tonight. Mia assumed the few beers he had, did have something to do with it. He trailed his fingers up her thigh, sometimes teasingly dipping underneath the hem of her skirt to make her breath hitch in her throat.
He’s often turn his head to plant his lips to her temple or make her look at him so he could kiss her on the lips. He pushed himself up against her earlier when they were in the kitchen to get everything ready for their dinner, grinding himself into Mia’s ass until she was holding down a moan.
It amused Harry to see her struggling with his friends around. They wouldn’t care for some PDA, but Mia was polite and reserved and the slightly wild side he had seen of her really only made an appearance when they were on their own.
On the other hand, Harry wanted to let Mia explore around his friends. She was shy, and reserved. And they were patient with her, but also wanted to laugh and joke and get to know her better. Mia was a bit of a tough nut to crack but they were all putting in the effort, and Harry knew that Mia was as well.
“Are you full?” Harry asked her as Mia closed the lid on her dish. She swallowed down the final bit of her Chinese food and nodded, “Yeah, these servings are huge. Maybe we can save some for tomorrow?”
“Good call.” Harry nodded, putting their leftovers in the fridge before pulling out another beer for himself. Harry glanced over his shoulder, “Mi, baby, do you want anything else?”
“I’m good, baby.” Niall spoke back teasingly and Harry rolled his eyes, “Mia?”
“I’m okay, but thank you, Harry.” She smiled softly. Harry nodded and undid the cap of his beer, bringing it to his lips to take a few swigs. He joined his friends and Mia on the couch again, pulling her into this side. She was in conversation with Zayn about something and Harry subtly listened in, realizing they were talking about exams and her switch to anthropology.
Mia really blossomed in one-on-one contact and Harry felt proud of her for opening up and even asking Zayn some questions back. Harry gave her hip a gentle squeeze, “D’you want a sip of my beer?” He murmured and Mia turned around to face me, shaking her head softly with a smile, “No, thank you.”
Harry smirked a little at how polite she was. It did things to him, things he couldn’t really explain and he knew that if he tried to – it’d sound stupid. He cleared his throat and drank more beer, chattering to his mates as they all lounged around the living room.
As the hours progressed, his friends got drunker, the topics a little dirtier and Mia’s head heavier on Harry’s shoulder.
Liam had suggested they play Never have I Ever and Harry and Mia shared a look before deciding that Mia wasn’t going to participate. Harry hated the game altogether. He knew plenty about his friends and was sure they didn’t have any more crazy secrets he hadn’t yet heard about in the years of them being friends.
He also knew the game turned into a sex-questionnaire most often and he didn’t want Mia in that. She was a virgin and he didn’t need her to feel shy about that. He also didn’t want his friends to completely question her about their sex life. It was private, Harry felt, and he didn’t feel the need to share it all with his friends.
So they sort of sat out and just listened in, Mia blushing often as she heard stories while Harry just shook his head and rolled his eyes.
“Did Niall and Zayn really have a threesome with someone?” Mia asked silently in Harry’s ear as the others were bickering about one of the questions. Harry chuckled and held her shoulder, his arm around her as they occupied a corner of the couch. Mia’s legs were curled up into his side with a blanket modestly covering her up. He nodded while swallowing a sip of beer, “Yep, it was last year, I think. Didn’t close an eye all night.”
Mia sputtered out a soft giggle, “Oh my god.”
She watched Harry’s side profile, his lips curling around the opening of the dark brown bottle as he toppled it back and then his throat bobbed in a swallow. His jaw was so sharp and when he smiled, she wanted to poke his little dimple.
“You’re staring, lovie.” Harry teased gently and Mia bit her lip to fight her smile before lightly shrugging, “You’re just very, very beautiful.”
Mia’s eyes widened and her smile grew twice its size when she noticed the soft flush of pink rising up Harry’s neck. He had a small smile on his lips – which he tried to hide behind his beer – and Mia gasped teasingly, “Are you blushing, Harry Sinclair?”
“Shut up.” He chuckled, shaking his head before clearing his throat, willing away the pinkness of his cheeks. Mia bit her lip and continued, “Don’t think I’ve seen you blush all that much. Look how the tables have turned.”
Harry turned his head with a shocked glance in his eyes at her little joke, and his hand slipped down to her thigh underneath the blanket, “Don’t tease me, sweetheart, or I’ll play games with you.”
Her heart hammered in her chest as he stared at her with challenging eyes, wondering if she’d continue or back down. Mia was the one blushing once more as she cuddled into his side a little more and – just as Harry expected – backed down. He smiled and kissed the side of her head, “No one’s ever called me beautiful before.” He murmured.
Their eyes were on his friends who were playing some card game now, drinking for no particular reason as Mia tried to figure out the rules but all the could really tell was that they drank. A lot. Harry continued, “I’ve been called hot, or fit… but never beautiful.”
Mia held onto his arm and rested her head on his bicep as his fingers gently stroked her tight-covered thigh underneath the blanket. Mia nuzzled her nose into his arm, “The most beautiful.”
“I love you.” Harry whispered and Mia smiled before humming, “I love you too.” She tilted her head up to face him, finding him staring back at her with an unexplainable fondness in his eyes.
“Kiss me.” Harry murmured and Mia smiled before leaning up and giving his lips a gentle kiss. Harry smiled against her and gave her thigh a gentle squeeze, chasing her a little when she pulled back too quick for his liking.
“Hey, kissy couple.” Louis called them out, making both Harry and Mia turn their attention to the four boys standing around a messy coffee table. “Hm?” Harry lazily asked and Liam finished up his beer, “We’re out of booze. We’re gonna go to the bar and continue there.”
“We’re out of booze?” Harry frowned, “Shit, how much did you guys have?”
Judging by Niall’s drunken stumbles – a lot. Zayn was attempting to tie up his shoes as Louis plopped down onto the couch next to Harry and Mia, making them all bounce a little bit at the force.
“You should come with us!” Louis shouted and Mia jumped back a little from the sudden volume and the stench of alcohol in Louis’ breath. Harry chuckled and shook his head, “No, thanks. We’re both near falling asleep. Easy night in, I think.” He yawned.
“Oh.” Louis’ face fell but Harry shook his head, “No, you should go. You should all go, definitely. Don’t mind us, we don’t care.” He wondered if it was very obvious he’d like to get Mia alone. No matter how much he adored his friends, they were cockblocking him tonight. Sure, he was tired, but there was a fire inside of him for his girlfriend he had missed thoroughly and he’d love to be with her tonight without interruptions.
Even if all they did was kiss and cuddle, he’d prefer to bask in the bliss of her warmth and comfort without the possibility of his friends barging into the bedroom the entire time.
Eventually, they did decide to leave – a little too slow for Harry’s liking. First, they decided on all having another shot from some super expensive bottle of scotch that Niall’s dad gifted him (and made him promise only to drink when he came to visit). Mia and Harry watched with teasing smiles and hushed whispers at the scrunched up faces from the four as they braved the intense taste of alcohol.
Then, Liam decided he didn’t like his outfit and forced Mia to come into his room and judge every t-shirt he owned even if she had lost count of the amount of normal blue t-shirts he had even though he claimed they were all different.
Zayn being drunk also meant he wanted to have a heart-to-heart with Mia about Harry and how happy he was that they found one another.
Safe to say, it was at least another hour until silence took over and Harry and Mia chuckled to themselves, cleaning up a little bit to get rid of the smell of Chinese food the upcoming days.
“Tired?” Harry eventually asked, cupping Mia’s jaw and pulling her in for a small kiss. The metal of his nose ring brushed over her heated skin as she puckered her lips back against him and hummed, “Not really.” She innocently shrugged.
Mia had to admit she felt a bit bold. She had never been one to be rude or impolite, but she near wanted to shout at Harry’s friends to read the room and get out so they could have a little bit of privacy. Mia had been throbbing ever since walking in and laying her eyes on him, and they hadn’t gotten any closer than some cuddles earlier.
Harry’s little confession about wanting to sleep with her, had set her off a little. She was curious, but too anxious still to really go there. There was pleasure now, lots of it, and she loved it. She grew more comfortable in her skin and with what she liked and didn’t like, and got to know Harry in that same way. She had heard time and time again how pleasurable and intimate sex was, but it just scared her.
To be frank, Mia had no idea how that was ever going to fit inside of her and how that could ever feel good.
She had seen Harry naked a few times, yet never really had taken the time to study him up close. Usually it was rather dark, he was hovering over her, and the atmosphere was hot and heavy and he was close to orgasm. The few little glances she had snuck down there just baffled her.
He was way larger than she could’ve imagined. She thought penises were just… that. Penises. She had only ever seen them in biology and it dawned on Mia that they showed them flaccid and soft, and it was no representation to how it looked or felt when aroused.
When Harry fingered her with one finger, it didn’t feel painful. A little odd, and there had been a small sting the first time but it was forgotten immediately from the immense pleasure she felt when he hooked his finger up to tap into her swollen spot that made her entire body just go lax.
And then when he pushed his tongue inside of her, that had hurt a little bit. And it’s what worried her. His tongue was nowhere near as wide or long as his prick, and she had to brave a sense of discomfort for that. Sure, it went away and she had a terrific orgasm on his tongue, but the entire thing just made her realize how painful sex was going to be.
“Sweetheart.” Harry’s soft whisper pulled Mia out of her train of thoughts and she focussed on the green of his eyes while giving him a small smile, drawing a breath and pulling her courage together, “We – uh… never finished what we started before.” She forced out the words, trying to fight the blush covering her fair skin and she hoped Harry wouldn’t comment on it.
His lips curled up in a bit of a surprised smile as he nodded, “True, we didn’t. Do… do you want to continue?”
“Yes.” She breathed, and Harry needed nothing more than that to smash his lips on hers. Mia was pliant, letting Harry tilt her head up as he guided her through a deep and needy kiss, something that had been on his mind for hours. His tongue wiggled between her lips and Mia parted eagerly, tasting the alcohol on him.
Their tongues flicked at one another as Harry’s hands moved down the length of her back, towards her ass where he held a brief pause and then lower to her thighs.
Even if they were in the middle of their living room, they were by themselves. So Harry didn’t care that he pulled up Mia’s skirt to expose her underwear hidden behind her dark tights. His hands covered her up, skirt bunched around her waist now before he grabbed her thighs and easily lifted her.
Mia kept their mouths together, wrapping her arms around Harry’s shoulders as he carried her into the bedroom. His foot swiftly kicked close the door as he sat down on the edge of his bed with Mia on his lap. They broke apart for air, Harry holding one hand on her thigh and stroking the fingers of his other hand through her hair to brush it away.
Mia panted, her fingers knitted in his curls when she felt so hot and needy she hardly knew what do to with herself. She wanted to be bold, she wanted to take the initiative, but she didn’t know what to do and hoped Harry would catch on and guide her through it.
But Harry – on the other hand – felt like he had scared her off with his comment earlier. It was hard for him to control himself around his Mia. The tent in his pants was a clear indication of that, and it almost made him blush in embarrassment of how his body craved hers at all times.
He was so painfully hard whenever she was near him, the smallest of touches could set of the beginnings of an orgasm and he hadn’t told her how it really only took two minutes of his hand to cum with the memories of her writhing on top of his lap on his mind.
He was rediscovering himself completely with her. Everything he thought he liked or turned him on, was proven wrong with the way Mia delicately touched him and loved him. He was obsessed with her, completely.
But still, Harry felt bad about how blunt he had been earlier, about wanting to fuck her. He did, he truly did, but he in no way wanted to rush her. He was satisfied completely with what they did up till now. Also, they had only been dating for a few weeks so there was no reason to run before they could walk.
He wanted her comfortable, because he knew it’d mean safety for her. And she needed them, and he needed that too. He knew if she trusted him enough, she’d feel safe and comfortable and it would get her more soft, wet and open than anything else.
So he held off a little bit, letting her take the lead and letting her decide where the evening took them. He was already surprised in hearing her say they never got to finish what they started, her curious eyes staring into his as a silent invitation to continue where they had left off, with Harry about to take off her tights and his shirt.
Mia initiated the next kiss, sitting on top of Harry’s thighs with her legs fitted around him. She arched out her back a little, feeling him dig his fingers into her through her cropped knitted jumper. He let her take the lead, and Mia tentatively stroked the tip of her tongue over his bottom lip before pushing in and finding his.
She licked at him, let her tongue explore the roof of his mouth as their lips massaged one another.
Harry’s breathing got heavier, he had a harder time keeping his hips from bucking up but when Mia gave a shy suck to his tongue, he couldn’t help the low groan from rumbling out into the room as he harshly gripped her ass and tugged her into his crotch.
Mia gasped, fingers tightening around Harry’s hair which caused her to involuntary tug it. His head cocked back from the force, and Mia felt the heat pooling between her thighs when he rocked her into his erection with his head tilted back, the vein in his neck popping and his swollen lips parted with harsh breaths.
He looked so erotic, her thighs shuddered before even being touched.
Even though Harry’s hands were on her hips, he wasn’t really guiding Mia anymore. The moved them up and down on her own accord, eyes fluttering in bliss upon feeling his bulge pressing into her clit every time she rolled her hips into him. With her hold on his hair softening, Harry trailed his eyes down the length of her body, dramatically widening in shock when she removed one hand and placed it behind her on his knee, giving her more range to move.
Her head was thrown back, her eyes closed, sharp breaths tumbling from her cherry lips while he stared, completely mesmerized, at the way she rocked her pelvis in sensual motions to fuck herself on his length.
“Mia – God…” He moaned, leaning back to enjoy the view more. Her hands lipped out of his hair to rest on his clothed chest, her fingers behind her digging into his knee as she sped up a little. The stimulation to Harry felt like bliss, his toes curling already as he was about to ruin another pair of boxers by jizzing into them.
He breathed heavily, “Baby, baby…” He whimpered, “Mia, wait.”
She blinked her eyes open and froze, stopping mid-rock of her hips to cast her eyes down. Her cheeks flamed instantly at Harry’s slight rejection but his hands came up her back to hold her shoulders, kissing her deeply and roughly while pulling her completely into his chest, “You’re so sexy.” He breathed against her spit-slicked lips.
“Harry,” Mia whispered, “I want you.”
He buried his face into her collarbone, “Fuck! D-Don’t say that.” His hips jerked up and he stifled a low moan, “Just – wait.” He tried to recompose himself, thinking of all possible things to stave off a premature orgasm. Mia must think he was some sex-addicted man with how many orgasms she had pulled from him already without ever laying a finger on him.
Whenever they were intimate, Harry had usually had more than one orgasm each time. It was a little embarrassing but Mia took pride in it at the same time. Once again, Grey’s Anatomy had taught her a lot about the ins and outs of intercourse, along with the stories she had heard from Hazel.
Even though she tried to block most of it out because it was so filthy, she did know that orgasms weren’t always so obvious. Women didn’t reach one, or men didn’t. So Mia deemed herself lucky with Harry that they could both get the other there.
“S-Sorry,” He stuttered, breathing into her neck, “’m about to cum. Need a second.”
“Okay.” Mia whispered back, “Okay.” She gently stroked through his hair, keeping herself still as she listened to the violent breathing of Harry. He swallowed thickly, “Get me off so easily, Mi. It’s like I’m fifteen again.”
She smiled to herself, holding onto his shoulders, “Fifteen?”
Harry chuckled, gently palming her back, “Yeah. Got my first porn magazine at fifteen and it was the first time I saw boobs.”
“Oh my god.” Mia sputtered out a laugh, shaking on top of Harry as he smiled along, “Yeah, I know.”
The little joke made the mood lighter again and Mia kissed Harry’s forehead, “Are you okay?”
“Mhm, I’m good. Sorry.”
She shook her head, “No, it’s fine. It’s – uh, been a little while.” She mumbled and Harry nodded, “It has been.” He pulled her closer again and tilted his head up to kiss her jaw, “I missed you so much, m’love. Really. Not just this, but everything. Talking to you, having lunch together, calling on the phone, watching a movie and falling asleep next to you. Missed everything.”
Her heart fluttered at his gentle words. She bit her lip to fight a wide grin and hugged him closer, “I missed you too, Harry. You’re my best friend.”
“Mia.” He crooned, holding her tightly to him as he closed his eyes and basked in her perfume, a scent so familiar it could put him right to sleep, “You’re my best friend too, bub. I adore you.”
They stayed entwined for a little bit, kissing whatever patch of skin their lips rested against. For Harry it was her throat, for Mia is was his forehead.
“I have a little surprise for you.” She eventually whispered. Harry felt her ribs underneath his fingers as he pulled back with raised brows, “You do?”
Her face was a soft pink as she nibbled her lip and nodded, “I do. If you’re – uh, up for it.”
Harry knew she meant it with genuine concern, but he couldn’t help but smirk at her little dig. He playfully pinched her hip, “I’m up for it, my darling.” He reassured her. Mia stifled a little giggle and nodded, licking her lips nervously, “I… I bought something. A-And I’m wearing it.” She sheepishly spoiled the surprise and Harry’s face lit up, “Shit, really?” He whispered, stroking his hands up her thighs with a smile, “Did my little angel surprise me?”
Mia blushed deeper and nodded, “Yes.”
Harry hummed and kissed her throat, “’M so lucky.”
Mia giggled and felt her confidence rising in her chest before Harry pulled back, “Want to show me?”
“Uh-huh.” Mia nodded, feeling slightly short on breath as Harry kept stroking her thighs, his thumbs stretched out to tickle the inner part of them and moving up to her groin. She trembled a little and Harry smirked, “Do you want to undress for me? Or want me to do it?” He whispered.
Mia contemplated his words before taking a breath, “I want to do it.”
“Fuck.” Harry cursed under his breath before nodding, “Yeah. Okay.” He helped her stand up from his thighs. Mia stood in his bedroom and Harry scooted back until his back met the wall next to his bed, lazily leaning against it. His eyes trailed over her form, from the bunched up skirt to her flushed cheeks, he bit his lip, “Go ahead, m’love.”
Mia’s fingers tingled as she nodded and first seared for the zipper of her skirt to get it off all the way. Her hair curtained around her when she looked down to find it, realizing her skirt was turned around a little so her zipper was now in the back instead of on the side. Her fingertips managed to undo it and she pulled it down around her thighs until it pooled around her ankles.
Her heartrate accelerated when she hesitated, wanting to make it a little bit sexy for Harry when she attempted to strip for him. But Mia quickly realized how foolish she’d look, trying to dance for him when she was this shy, so she stuck to clumsily taking off every article of clothing one by one.
With her jumper off, she was left in a long-sleeved black shirt, her tights and her underwear underneath. Harry’s hand was on his own thigh, slowly but surely creeping up to palm himself as he watched her, breath stuck in his throat.
He could tell she was nervous, but she braved through it, wanting to do this for herself and push herself a little. Mia flicked her eyes up to him nervously and Harry felt like he was hit by a sledgehammer at the sight of her pale blue irises staring into his.
“Doing so good, Mi.” He praised softly before licking his lip, “D’you mind if I touch myself? When watching you?”
Her brows raised as she felt a jolt of arousal shooting right between her legs, a slight clenching of her muscles that went unnoticed by Harry who kept his eyes on her face. Mia swallowed and shook hear head, “N-No, go ahead.”
He nodded and wasted no time in slightly pushing down his sweats and boxers, cock springing free and slapping into his shirt-covered abdomen. He was rock hard, standing tall with a slight curve to the left. Mia bore her eyes into Harry’s, somehow fighting the urge to look down when she saw his arm moving and she assumed he took a hold of himself to stroke.
“You can look.” Harry reassured her, keeping his eyes on hers as Mia hesitated, and then slowly but surely dragged her eyes down until she saw him pumping himself in a slow, lazy rhythm. He was long, and wide, and veiny. Tip a dark red, scarlet like his lips after kissing for so long, and his hand seemed a lot smaller when wrapped around his dick.
But the sight was mesmerizing, Harry pleasuring himself. If his words were true, he had sat like this in his room many times the past few days, with her on his mind. She could imagine it, scrunched up brows in pleasure, breathless moans of her name.
Harry knew that the sight of him wanking would either make Mia more shy, or it would boost her confidence. And by the way her spine straightened and her shoulders lowered a tad, it was the second. She felt confident, knowing what effect she had on him.
So Mia continued, taking a breath before pulling her arms out of the holes of her shirt, pulling it off over her head. The air hit her torso, just a flimsy, lace bralette covering her and doing a very shit job at hiding her hardened nipples.
Harry’s hand sped up at the sight of her, his eyes hooding when the soft purple adorned her body so delicately, “Shit, Mia… ‘s fucking gorgeous.”
Her ego was boosted even more and she watched as he squeezed himself a little harder, twisting his fist more. His breath shortened when he watched her like this. It was lace, little flowery patterns embroidered in the triangle shape of the bralette that she had bought to wear for him.
Mia nervously adjusted the strap on one of her shoulders before taking a breath and hooking her fingers into the tight waistband of her tights. She struggled ever so slightly in taking them off but Harry was mesmerized by the sight of the matching purple panties she wore.
The crotch was cotton, but the top was the same lacy material and it sat snug around her hips, the colour fitting her perfectly as he sighed and tilted his head to the side, shaking his head to himself while grabbing himself a little tighter, “God damn.” He cursed.
Her lips curled up shyly at the speechless reaction he gave her. Harry’s eyes dragged up and down her body a few times, licking his lip repeatedly, “Can I see the back, lovie?”
Mia bit her lip and turned around, hearing the unmistakable gasp from Harry’s throat when he saw the panties were a thong, a thin sliver of lace between her ass cheeks and making her look more round and plump and delicious as he stared at her exposed flesh.
He wanted to sink his teeth into her, devour her, and spank her until she’d let out those breathy little whimpers that always did him in.
“Do you like it?” Mia asked as she turned back around, unsure of what to do with her arms. Harry swallowed and lazily nodded, “So beautiful, Mia. I swear… never seen anything like you. C’mere, please.”
She took his invitation immediately, and Harry’s hand found her hip as he urged her to sit on his lap again. His legs were straightened out more with just his ankles hanging over the side, sitting up against the wall.
His knuckles bumped into her tummy from the hand he used to jerk off as he kept his eyes on her covered breasts, curiously trailing his fingertips over the lace border at the top of the delicate triangle covering her up. His lips followed, kissing over the swells of her breast as he teasingly dared stroking his thumb over one of her nipples.
Mia tensed up and bit her lip, muscles tensing in anticipation. Harry sighed and kissed her collarbone, “Can I take my clothes off, too?”
“Yes.” She immediately answered, “Please.”
He smiled into her skin and nodded, removing his hand from around him to urge her back a little so he could slip his shirt off. His pants lowered down his thighs, Harry flicked his eyes up to hers, “Pants too?”
Mia nodded and allowed Harry room to remove all his clothes. He was completely naked now, making himself comfortable as he laid down the length of his bed, head up on his pillow with eyes drunkenly staring at Mia, who shyly sat at the end of it.
“Come sit on my lap, baby.” Harry rasped, one hand back to stroking himself. The muscles in his abdomen flexed, and Mia crawled up his lap slowly while letting her eyes devour him. He was a work of art, just so… beautiful. The ink decorated him perfectly, the little scars and birthmarks making her tremble. His imperfections would always do it for her, she realized.
“Hi.” She stupidly mumbled when her thighs fit around him and she felt the warmth of his legs against hers. Harry’s dimples showed when he smiled back and breathed out a chuckle, “Hi, lovie. Wanna give me a kiss?”
“Yes, please.” Mia piped up, tucking her hair behind her ear as she leaned down. Harry’s hand rested on the back of her head and she felt his moving hand against her belly as he continued pleasuring himself. Their tongues slowly moved together as she lost herself in the familiar contact, easing her nerves for whatever new step they were about to take.
Harry pulled back with a little smack, gently moving his thumb over her jaw, “Want to do like you did before? Looked so sexy grinding on top of me…” He murmured, “So sexy I had to stop you.”
Mia nodded, remembering how good it felt and how she lost herself in the contact while grinding on him earlier. Harry’s hand slipped from her face and trailed down her spine until palming her ass cheek, “Come a little higher.” He whispered.
Mia’s breath hitched in her throat when she scooted up, and Harry removed his hand from between them until she sat directly on top of his bare dick. He breathed out a shaky moan, closing his eyes for a brief moment as she soft cotton of her panties made contact with his very hard dick. He spread his legs a little behind her, getting comfortable.
“Go ahead, love… use me to make yourself feel good. You can do whatever you want.” He held her thighs and Mia’s brows raised, “Oh – uh…”
“’S okay.” Harry reassured her when he saw her blanking a little at the freedom he gave her. Mia nodded and Harry squeezed her thighs, “Just start with what you did before, hm? Want to sit up straight? Let me look at you?”
“Okay.” She breathed, straightening up. The times they had grinded before, Harry had been sitting up. Either against the headboard, or the couch, or holding himself up with a hand behind him when they were on the bed. Now, he was completely flat and Mia towered over him.
They weren’t touching, except for their aching centres and Mia was unsure of what to do with her hands, gently placing them on Harry’s chest to brave himself. His fingers on her leg eased her a little as he focused his eyes back on her chest, “You’re such a dream.” He whispered, “’M so crazy about you.”
Mia’s hips twitched at his praise and she gasped, feeling him so clearly against her. Harry hummed, giving her thigh another squeeze, “Keep going, Mia.”
She nodded and searched for a rhythm, rocking her hips slowly and tentatively until she got more comfortable. Harry moaned softly when she stimulated him, cock flat against his belly and her pussy as she grinded on him.
“You’re so wet, baby.” Harry whispered, “I can feel you… wrecking those pretty panties you bought for me.”
“Yes.” Mia lazily whispered back, unable to keep her eyes anywhere but the way her pelvis rolled into his prick. She studied him, easy for her to see now. He was easy to feel too, rolling against her budding clit as she leaked through her panties and her arousal warmed him and eased the glide. Her panties weren’t rough against his sensitive skin, the cotton gentle and moist.
“Oh god.” She whispered, watching as he oozed some precum on his tummy. Harry gasped at the feeling, “Fuck – Mia… see what you do to me?”
Mia found herself nodding, her confidence rising. She shifted a little in her position, getting more comfortable. She straightened up more, throwing her head back in pleasure with her hair cascading down her back. Harry stared at her stretched out torso, ribs widening with each harsh gasp as she pushed her tits out, nipples hard against the purple lace of the bralette.
Harry’s fingers dug into her thighs and Mia moved one hand back again, finding his knee to balance herself as she rocked with more confidence and strength.
He loved seeing her like this, losing herself in the pleasure as her arousal soaked through her panties and wetted him. Their bodies worked well together, both pulling the most pleasure out of the other. Harry bucked his hips back up and Mia whined, a sound that made him twitch as he screwed his eyes shut in pleasure, “Mia.” Harry moaned.
“Oh – Harry.” She whimpered back, breathing getting shorter as she worked herself harder on top of him. He pressed into her nerves deliciously each time she rocked her pelvis, that one vein specifically flicking against her clit.
“Harry…” She moaned again and he swallowed thickly, “Where d’you need me, love? What do you want?” He asked, out of breath. Mia’s lips gaped as she fought for oxygen and Harry hooked his fingers in the waistband of her underwear, letting it snap against her tummy, “Mia, what do you want?” He repeated.
“You!” She exhaled in a cry, unable to keep the volume down as the coil in her tummy grew tight, “You, you, you…” She chanted and Harry groaned, harshly grabbing her ass and pulling her up. Mia whimpered at the loss of contact, falling forward with her hands slamming against the wall behind his bed. Her hair fell around her as he pulled her up more until she scooted up and sat down on his chest.
Harry’s eyes looked hooded as he licked his lips, and his hands anchored up her hips before he urged her down on his mouth. Mia could hardly keep up with him, her mouth opening in a high-pitched moan when she felt the warmth of his mouth over her panties, “Harry!” She whined.
He moaned against her, feeling the wet patch of her panties against his mouth as he held her hips down. She was trembling, holding her hands against the wall as he pushed his tongue against her through the fabric of her purple underwear. His mouth enveloped her whole, locking around her clit and licking her. Mia whined again, hips stuttering against his mouth as Harry pulled her down.
“Oh my god.” Mia moaned, rolling her hips against him. His nose bumped into her covered clit and Mia swore she could feel the coolness of his piercing against her throbbing, wet clit.
“Please,” She cried pathetically with screwed-shut eyes, “please, please.” She had no idea what she was so shamelessly begging for, but Harry growled against her. His cock twitched against his tummy as he grew frustrated with the position and quickly yanked her back again.
Mia’s eyes stayed closed as she let Harry easily throw her around. He lifted her and quickly got off the bed, her body bouncing on the mattress as he came on top of her. She opened her eyes to find him hovering over her, pulling Mia into a deep kiss that made her mind spiral even more.
Her fingers were in his hair, legs locked around him as he laid between her thighs, naked prick pushing into her panties. “Harry…” She whispered and he nodded, “I know, no pouting, m’love.”
She was about to apologize but couldn’t as he jerked his hips into her and she gasped out, arching her back at the contact. Harry used the opportunity of her shock to shimmy down her body and leave wet kisses in his wake. He kissed her nipples over her bralette and then kissed lower, yanking her panties down easily to leave Mia bare.
Harry clumsily manoeuvred around the single bed, eventually stepping out of it and dropping to his knees at the end of the bed, grabbing Mia’s ankles to yank her down too. She yelped when being dragged down the soft duvet, Harry quickly throwing her legs over his shoulders until her ankles dangled against his back and he got to eating her properly.
“Oh my god!” Mia squeaked at the feeling of his mouth lapping up her wetness, without barriers this time. Her eyes rolled back, her chest arched and her hips stuttered against his mouth as he held her down and roughly ate her. His tongue spread her folds until he sucked her wet clit into his mouth, moaning at her taste and her wetness dropping from his chin.
It was easy now to push his tongue inside of her, and Harry fucked her sensually with his mouth for a little bit. Her walls rippled around his tongue as he pushed and curled it to satisfy her, and the noises coming from her mouth proved how could of a job he was doing.
Mia’s fingers were tight in his hair, her other hand death-gripping the duvet she was laying on as she stared up at the ceiling.
Harry pulled back for air, sucking a hickey into her thigh as he licked his wet lips, “Mia,” he breathed.
She didn’t respond, her ears ringing and her breath caught in her throat. Harry smirked at her state, chest heaving up and down quickly as she tried to deal with the pleasure he gave her. Harry brought his hand up, pressing his palm to her aching pussy. Mia jolted up with a whine, legs spasming on his shoulders as he smirked wider, “Don’t ignore me.” He ordered.
“S-Sorry,” Mia gasped, “sorry.”
“’S okay,” He gave her pussy a squeeze and Mia bit her lip to keep from crying out as Harry tutted her, “y’didn’t mean to, did you?”
“N-No, I didn’t. Promise.” She spoke through harsh breaths. Harry hummed, “There’s my good girl. Baby, can I try something?”
Mia swallowed, trying very hard to focus on anything else than his warm hand pressed to her cunt, her clit right between two of his long fingers and he used that opportunity to play with her more and drive her to the brink of insanity.
She squeaked out with every movement he made and swallowed again, “Yes.” She breathed, “Please.”
“Fuck,” Harry whispered, kissing her thigh right over the bruise he sucked into her smooth skin, “’m gonna have you cum on my tongue, yeah? Just how you like it.”
Mia nodded eagerly, “Yes – yes…”
“In a minute,” He tutted, “don’t be impatient, sweetheart.”
She bit her lip again, tears forming in her eyes at how needy she felt. Her skin was on fire, hairline glistening in a thin layer of sweat. She nodded again, “Sorry.”
“And when you cum, ‘m gonna keep going. Is that okay?”
Mia blinked a few times, remembering he tried that last time too. When she sat on his mouth and she came, and he pushed her off and wanted to finger her. It had felt like way too much, but she had stopped him before he could really do anything. Mia bit her lip in thought and Harry licked over the bruise, “Mia, use your words, be a good girl for me and answer my question. Yes or no?”
She gulped, “Yes.” She whimpered and Harry hummed, “Good, good girl. We can still stop, yeah? Yes doesn’t have to mean yes for everything. If you want me to stop, tell me to stop.”
Warmth spread through Mia’s body at his kind words and she nodded, melting into the bed, “Okay. Yeah – okay.” She rushed out, needing him to get on with it. Harry felt her pulsing against his palm, wetting his hand as she tried to keep her hips still instead of rocking into him. He gave her cunt another playful squeeze, flicking her clit once before putting his mouth back on her.
Overstimulation was one of his favourite things. Mia was squirmy, sensitive and responsive, and Harry couldn’t wait to feel how she pushed herself to be good for him.
He licked her clit, flat of his tongue rolling against her throbbing nerves as he kept running his tongue over her little pussy in patterns. She tasted delicious, her stomach clenching with her impending orgasm. Harry opened his eyes to see her with her head thrown back, her chest up and her mouth open wide in breathy moans of his name.
Her thighs trembled on his shoulders, Mia completely losing herself on the feeling of his tongue.
“Gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” Harry breathed against her, locking his lips over her clit to suck in sharp pulses and Mia cried out, coming on cue as if a dog doing tricks. Pleasure seeped through her bones as Harry sucked her throbbing pearl between his lips and drilled his tongue against her.
“Oh my god!” She moaned, “Harry…”
At the peak of her orgasm, Harry pushed in a finger. He used his other hand to hold her down, hips jolting up when she felt his finger inside of her. She gasped in sharply, chest sucked in with a harsh breath as he did the same thing he did last time, the tip of his finger walking along the spot inside of her that made her see stars. She shuddered and gasped and felt like she was melting, but bit her tongue to keep herself from stopping him.
She wanted to try, she wanted to be good for him, she wanted to feel like this for the rest of her life. Safe, warm and blissed-out after Harry took care of her.
Her knuckles turned white from gripping the sheets as she struggled for air, realizing Harry stroking her g-spot only elongated her orgasm.
“Oh – Harry… I’m –“ Mia whimpered, eyes rolling back as she continued spasming, unsure if she was convulsing in the aftermath of her orgasm or if it was the build-up of a new one. He kept licking at her clit and Harry made the decision, feeling that she was wet enough, to add a second finger.
Mia whined at the feeling of his digits stretching her, not even having the time to worry about it as the initial little sting was immediately forgotten, his fingers massaging her from the inside out. “Oh god…” She gasped, hips bucking uncontrollably, “Harry!” She cried when the end of her orgasm bled right into the next one and it felt even more powerful.
It was like an orgasm in an orgasm, and Mia couldn’t feel her legs as she toppled over the edge. It was on the brink of slightly painful but pleasurable enough that she’d beg for this the rest of her life. Her fingers yanked on his hair to get him to disengage, his lips finally slipping from around her clit as she convulsed, walls tightening and clenching around his fingers as she only released more arousal over his hand.
“Fuck.” Harry moaned staring intently at her wet pussy as his fingers disappeared inside of her time and time again, glistening in her juices. Mia let out a sharp cry and gasped in a breath, “S-Stop!”
And Harry stopped immediately, seizing the thrusting of his fingers as he flicked his eyes up to her face. He couldn’t see her, she was staring at the ceiling, but the veins in her neck were pulsing, her chest was heaving and her ribs sucked in with sharp breaths.
Harry shushed her softly and kissed over her thigh, gently pulling his fingers from her. “Good, good, good girl.” He praised her gently, pressing kisses over her trembling legs that he gently unhooked from around his shoulders. They dropped over the edge of the bed like dead weight, muscles spasming in little aftershocks as Harry stood up from his kneeled position.
His legs felt wobbly himself and he let his eyes over Mia’s red thigh where his mouth had maimed her, and her swollen, throbbing pussy. The sight of her spread open for him made his leaking cock twitch, and he blindly took a hold of himself to soothe the ache of depriving him of an orgasm this entire time.
Mia had yet to say something, still catching her breath as she could hardly feel below her hips. She did feel Harry’s hands on her ribs to scoot her up on the bed again. The act of service made her hum softly, comfortably resting on Harry’s bed as he gently lifted her head to pop a pillow underneath her.
Her thighs were spread, trembling still from the two orgasms she had at the hands of her boyfriend, who sat on his knees between her legs with a hand around himself.
“Harry,” Mia rasped, licking her lip and drawing a breath, “you’re s-“
“I know.” He nodded, stroking himself, “don’t have to do anything Mi.” He beat her to it, “Just stay like this, hm? ‘M gonna cum to the fucking sight of your wet, little pussy. Such a dream.”
Mia felt slightly grateful for the fact that Harry didn’t need her to do anything. She felt bad for not having touched him even once, but her limbs just wouldn’t cooperate right now. She stared at his face as he kept his eyes trained on her naked cunt, folds and thighs wet with the aftermath of her orgasms and Harry sped up his hand, grunting under his breath.
He scooted a little higher, moving one leg to straddle on of Mia’s thighs as his breathing got shorter. He was slick in precum and Mia watched with mesmerized eyes how he played with himself and worked himself to an orgasm. His hand rested on her ribs for stability as he continuously ran his eyes up and down her body, “Fuck – Mia… s’gorgeous.”
He didn’t ask for permission to touch her breast, but Mia didn’t care. Harry’s hand slowly crept up her torso, moving from her ribs to softly palm her right breast. He bit his lip to hide a groan, his hand covering her whole over the bralette as he gave her boob a gentle squeeze. Mia felt unfamiliar with the contact but let him explore her.
“Jesus, baby…” He whimpered, slowly but surely moving his eyes up to lock with hers. He stared at her with slight hesitance before his cheeks took a pink turn and he swallowed, “Tell me I’m a good boy.”
Mia was baffled, blinking at him for a moment as he straddled her thigh, jerked off and touched her boob while asking for praise. She opened her mouth but nothing came out. Harry pleaded with her, “Please?” He whispered.
Mia swallowed and fought her shy blush, nodding, “Y-You’re so good, Harry. Such a good boy.”
“Fuck.” He cried out, jerking his hips forward into his hand with a desperate moan, squeezing her breast harder, “Yeah? ‘M such a good boy for you, aren’t I?”
“Yes.” Mia whispered, “Always a perfect boy for me.”
He gasped, “Oh god! C-Can I cum? Mommy, please… can I cum on your wet pussy?”
Mia swore her vagina came back to life as she stared at him with wide eyes, eventually nodding, “Y-Yes – you can cum.” She murmured, unsure if he even heard her. Harry threw his head back with a cry, muscles spasming and thighs shaking as he came. His come spurted out of him in ropes, painting Mia’s pussy and her spread thighs as he continued tugging on himself in short, sharp strokes.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Harry hissed, slowing down once he hadn’t one drop left to give. He blinked his eyes open lazily, staring down at his cum covering Mia’s folds, her clit and the apex of her thighs. His mouth watered and he flicked his eyes up to hers.
As if Mia could read his thoughts, she softly shook her head, “I-I can’t.”
“I know.” Harry softly smiled, giving her boob another soft squeeze before removing his hand and leaning down over her. He kissed her, “I know, baby.” And then he kissed her again. Mia gladly wrapped her arms around his neck, losing herself in his warm and soft kisses after the vulnerable and intimate moment they just shared. She had no issues lying bare on his bed like this with Harry’s release all over her.
“I love you.” She whispered, nuzzling her nose against his. Harry hummed and kissed her again, “Love you s’much, lovie.”
They kissed for another moment before Harry kissed the tip of her nose, “Let me clean you up, I’ll be right back.”
“Okay.” Mia lazily sighed, dropping her arms from around him. Harry walked through the apartment stark naked, into the bathroom to get a towel as Mia shifted on the bed. She closed her legs and sighed out, patiently waiting for Harry to return as fatigue took over.
They lazed around the bed for a little, Harry doting over her and praising her as he kissed her pouty lips and cleaned up between her legs. Mia felt floaty and sensitive, and Harry helped her get dressed in fresh panties she brought in her duffle bag before giving her a shirt of his. Mia brought her own pyjamas, but Harry wanted her in nothing else but his clothes. The shirt fell long, covering most of her behind as he and Mia walked towards the bathroom to get ready for the night.
Both were too tired for a shower and soon, with brushed teeth and moisturized skin, they cuddled underneath the sheets of Harry’s small bed. He spooned Mia tightly, kissing her shoulder continuously as he waited for her breathing to even out.
Mia’s eyes were closed as she laced her fingers with Harry’s against her chest, gently rubbing the roof of her foot over his calf as they warmed up on his mattress, sharing a pillow.
“What’re you doing for the holidays?” Mia whispered into the silent bedroom. It had been on her mind for a while now, and Harry said they’d talk about it tonight but they hadn’t yet, so she decided to bring it up herself. She was in a state of near-sleep but she knew she’d sleep restless if she didn’t know his answer.
Harry yawned against the back of her neck, holding her tightly to him. He didn’t mind the single bed whatsoever if it meant wrapping Mia in his arms the entire night, “I usually go home for two weeks.” Harry mumbled sleepily, “What about you?”
Mia pressed her lips together , staring at the wall next to his bed, “I – uh… Well, my parents usually go on a holiday. Two years ago, I spent it with my grandma. Then she passed away a few weeks later in January. Last year, I spent it alone and then my friends came over after they celebrated with their families. We watched a movie.” Mia remembered her friends showing up at her house with food. She missed them terribly.
“On your own?” Harry frowned, his heart shattering for his lovely Mia spending the holidays by herself. He bit his lip, “Come home with me, please.”
Mia frowned, “What?”
Harry hummed, “Yeah. I’ve told my parents about you, they’re dying to meet you. And Edward already calls you Mi.” He chuckled, remembering how excited his brother was when he told him about Mia over the phone. Harry bit his lips, “We could go home for a week and then come back here?”
Mia felt her insides firing up, “You… You want me to spend the entire week with you?” She checked.
“Of course.” Harry whispered, “I want you to spend your entire life with me.” He kissed her neck “I love you so much, Mia.” He sighed, “Want you with me all the time, and my parents already love you. I-If you want, of course. But ‘m so proud of you, want everyone to see how lucky I am.”
Tears formed in her eyes as she squeezed his fingers harder, pushing herself back into Harry’s chest, “I love, love, love you.” She whispered, “Please, take me home with you.”
Harry smiled and hummed, “Of course. ‘S gonna be amazing. I’ll call mum tomorrow.”
A few more affectionate kisses later, both of them fell into a dreamy sleep.
***
It wasn’t specifically a dreamy night, though.
Harry’s friends came home drunk at around four in the morning, Niall somehow forgetting where his room was and barging into Harry’s. Harry frowned sleepily, curling himself around Mia to shield her from the light as he mumbled a curse under his breath.
He whispered to Mia to go back to sleep as she shifted a little and she sighed out lazily before falling back into her dream – of her and Harry celebrating Christmas together. Niall eventually left and by the time it was morning, Harry and Mia gradually woke up.
He doted over her with kisses and Mia turned around with a sleepy smile, cuddling into Harry and kissing his neck. He slipped his hands underneath the white shirt she wore, palming her back and feeling her warmth as she hooked her leg over his hips.
Harry woke up with his usual morning erection, but both ignored it and opted for cuddles and kisses while celebrating the first day of their school break. Mia felt carefree, in her boyfriend’s arms without a thought on her mind. She was rested, even if her back was a little sore from sleeping in a single bed and Harry holding her so tightly throughout the night.
“Can I take a shower?” Mia whispered into his neck, eyes closed as she nuzzled into him, “I feel a little gross and sticky.”
Harry smirked and hummed, “Hmm… cumming twice will do that to you.”
“Harry.” Mia gasped with red cheeks and he chuckled while pulling her closer to him, “Of course you can shower, m’love. I have to warn you though… we share this shower, the three of us. ‘S not the most luxurious or clean bathroom you’ve ever seen.”
Mia smiled, “I don’t care. Do you… - uh, do you also need a shower?”
Harry’s insides burned as he bit his lip, carefully nodding, “I might. Why d’you ask, Mi? Wanna save water with me?”
She giggled into his chest, “I might.” She teased back and Harry pinched her ass which had her yelp.
Her hair was messy around them as they kissed, Harry holding onto Mia’s thigh as she rolled on top of him. His erection pressed into her tummy as he slipped his hand to her ass to rock her into him. He felt horny all over again, but kept it to playful little touches without really starting anything up.
Harry lazily got out of the bed, opening up his blinds a little and cracking a window before yawning and pulling out a pair of boxers from his closet, “You can wear these.”
“Thank you.” Mia smiled as she slid them up her legs. The scattered clothes on the floor reminded her of the night before and she blushed while grinning, all the good memories filling her brain. Harry carefully opened up his bedroom door, peeking into the living room with a loud sigh, “You’ve got to be kidding me.” He groaned.
Mia peaked over his shoulder, chuckling under her breath when she saw Zayn on the couch, snoring loudly with his mouth open and his pants halfway down his legs. His shoes were still on and he didn’t have a blanket over him.
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, “He’s literally got a bed across the hall, what the fuck.”
Mia pressed her hand to her mouth to stifle her laugh, and Harry shook his head to himself before he made his way into the living room. Mia followed him but stopped by Zayn’s side before moving into the bathroom with Harry. She softly placed a blanket over a sleeping Zayn and then joined Harry with her lip tucked between her teeth.
“What?” She smiled when she saw the look he gave her. He shook his head with a chuckle, “You’re so cute.” And then he kissed her.
Harry heated up the shower and Mia glanced around the bathroom, seeing the array of toothbrushes scattered around. Hers was neatly in her toiletry bag on the windowsill, and Harry quickly shoved away a few pairs of boxers, shooting her a sheepish look, “I told you so.”
“It’s fine.” Mia shook her head, hooking her fingers into the waistband of the boxers to push them down. Harry’s smile faltered as he stared at the length of her legs, grey cotton panties covering her up. Mia glanced at the door, “No lock?”
“Nope.” Harry sighed, “No lock.”
Mia blushed slightly and bit her lip, “Better make it quick then.” She shoved all her thoughts away and grabbed the shirt, pulling it off over her head. She was well aware that she had never been topless in front of Harry and she hadn’t imagined it being in a brightly lit, filthy bathroom that he shared with two others and that had no lock, but the look on his face didn’t disappoint.
Harry stared at Mia’s exposed chest, soft breasts with darkened nipples. They were a little uneven, but he adored that about her. Mia hid her pink face by also discarding of her underwear and then quickly hopping behind the shower curtain to shield herself Harry.
He exhaled a breathy chuckle and pulled out a few fluffy towels, undressing himself before stepping into the shower too. Mia was already wet, her back to him when he closed the shower curtain and joined her in the crammed little space.
His fingers ran through the length of her soaked hair before he gently held her hip and turned her around. Mia watched as Harry stepped under the stream, his hair matting to his forehead and glistening drops of warm water sliding down his toned body.
God, she loved him. And she was so horny once more.
They exchanged playful, teasing kisses and touches in the shower, Harry taking the time to wash her boobs and feel them in his hands as he bit his lip and only grew harder. Mia noticed, his dick at full mast between them. She rinsed the suds out of her hair and was surprised to have Harry pushing her against the shower wall before he locked their lips together.
Mia closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back eagerly. The steam of the shower surrounded them as Harry sighed into her mouth, licking into her and tasting her lips. His cock pressed into her tummy and Harry moaned softly, “Can I try something?” He asked.
Her wet nipples were hard against his chest and Mia leaned her head back with parted lips, catching her breaths. She nodded at him, “Mhm.”
“Don’t be scared, okay?” He whispered, holding his dick with one hand, “I won’t push in, or anything. If it’s uncomfortable, I’ll stop.” He promised. Mia felt a little nervous at his apologetic words before he even did anything, and she nodded, “Y-Yeah, okay.”
Harry bit his lip and sunk down his knees, angling himself between her legs. Mia felt him, her jaw opening when he pressed into her, folds parting around his shaft as he grinded between her legs.
“Oh –“ She gasped at the feeling, still sensitive and a little sore from the night before, but feeling him bare against her, feeling her wetness coating him as he gently moved back and forth, was worth everything. She tightly held onto his shoulders as Harry rested his forehead against hers, “Good?”
“Yes.” Mia whispered, nodding, “S-So good… you feel so good.”
“Shit, Mia.” Harry groaned, tightly closing his eyes again, “’M gonna fill you up so deep and good one day…”
Her eyes widened, staring at his closed ones, and Harry was completely lost in his head. Mia was wet, her slick arousal making the glide easy as he grinded against her bare pussy. She was warm and soft and he was holding himself back tremendously as he shakily exhaled, “Make love to you all the time, I’ll make you feel so good…” His hands held her hips, “’M gonna pump you full of my cum one day, hm? Do it again and again until I put a baby in you.”
Mia gasped, hips bucking at their own accord. Harry moaned at the feeling, digging his fingers into his ass until they were lost in a deep make-out session. The water cascaded down Harry’s tensed back, his still slowly grinding against Mia’s as she trembled on her legs.
“C-Can I touch you? Please?” Her voice was gentle as she slipped a hand down his wet chest, “Please,” She repeated, “want to make you feel good.”
“Christ, Mia – fuck…” Harry sighed, nodding eagerly, “Yes, yes, please touch me. Please.”
She nodded too and was grateful for Harry’s hand covering her own, guiding it down as he slipped from between her legs and urged her to take a hold of him. She felt him slick and warm, veiny against her palm. And she could feel him throbbing. Harry’s hand left hers and Mia swallowed while blinking a few times, “Uh… what do I do?”
Harry kissed her cheekbone with closed eyes, knowing if he opened them he’d cum immediately. To see Mia’s innocent eyes and her small hand wrapped around his cock, he’d be done fore.
“L-Little more pressure, little harder.” He breathed, moaning when she followed his instructions. He nodded, “That’s good, baby, that’s so good.”
Mia nodded, and tightened her grip a little until Harry shakily exhaled, “Slide up and down, all the way to the tip… give it a gentle squeeze if you want – fuck!” He cursed in a gasp, “Yeah, like that… god, that’s good, so good…” He spilled when Mia did what he asked her to do. She wrapped her hand tighter, sliding from the base all the way to his tip – which seemed endless – before giving a gentle squeeze.
“’S good, baby.” Harry slurred lazily, kissing her cheek again, “Y-You can alternate in pressure.”
Mia licked her lip and focussed, following his instructions as she did just that, tightening and untightening her hand every other stroke. Harry jutted his hips into her hand, “L-Little faster, lovie. And you can s-swipe your thumb over the head.”
She raised her brows in concentration, staring at the way her hand touched him before carefully stroking her thumb over the tip of him. Harry moaned lowly, “Yes! Yes, yes, fuck… ‘m so sensitive, Mi… got me so hard just from sleeping next to you. M’dreamy girl.”
“Harry…” She whispered, getting more comfortable in touching him even if her arm ached and her legs were shaky. She was wet again.
“Just like that.” Harry praised her and Mia looked back down between them, fitting her lip between her teeth, “You’re so big.” She remarked.
Harry suddenly gasped, and Mia’s eyes widened tremendously when she felt him pulsing against her hand and he orgasmed. His cum shot out, streaking over her tummy and her hand around him. Harry moaned out, breathing harshly into her neck as he fucked himself into her hand until he was done.
“Fuck – s-sorry. I couldn’t stop.” He panted. Mia felt him softening and gently released him, stretching her hand to rinse it off as she pecked his shoulder, “It’s okay.”
They were about to talk more, possibly discuss if that was okay for her and if that was okay for him. It was a new step, her touching him, and they hadn’t really spoken about it much, so both wanted the other to be comfortable with what just happened.
Before they got the chance to, the door suddenly opened and they heard stumbling.
Mia gasped in shock at the light coming in, only the shower curtain shielding her naked body from whoever came in.
“What the fuck?!” Harry snapped, wrapping his arms around Mia to cover as much of her as possible as he looked over his shoulder.
“Sorry!” Niall choked out and before either of them could say something, they heard retching and vomiting. Mia stifled her laugh as she pressed her hand to her mouth and Harry closed his eyes, resting his forehead against Mia’s, “Jesus.” He groaned, as Niall continued throwing up.
“I’m so sorry.” Harry whispered to Mia, who shook her head while hiding her laugh, “It’s okay.”
“I can’t believe this is happening.” Harry groaned as Niall sputtered a little more and eventually flushed the toilet. Mia and Harry heard the turning on of the faucet as Niall cleared his throat and coughed a few times, “Mornin’, Mia.”
“Hi.” She piped back, “Did you have fun last night.”
Harry shot her a look, “Are you seriously having a casual conversation right now?” He whispered and Mia shrugged as Niall coughed again, “Fantastic, I don’t remember a thing.”
“Get out.” Harry groaned in frustration and Niall chuckled, “At least I waited until you finished to disturb you two.”
“Oh my god.” Mia winced, cheeks firing up as Harry’s eyes widened and he cleared his throat, “Right.”
“Bye!” Niall sang before leaving again and Harry shot Mia a mortified look, who was once again fighting her laughter. They stood entwined against the shower wall and Harry shook his head, “Fucking hell. ‘S a good thing we’re going home for a bit. Some time to ourselves.”
“Yeah.” Mia smiled, chest fluttering at the thought of going home with Harry, “I can’t wait.”
“Can’t wait either, sweetheart.” Harry smiled and then they kissed again.
I might be the only person who doesn't want to see anything else happen between Lynn, Mia and Harry😭 I just don't feel like it fits their vibe tbh. Do you see yourself writing a threesome or anything into their story in the future? Of course it's your story and you can do whatever you want and I'll love it either way!!
hi!! i just responded to another message about this but yeah, i don't think anything more is gonna happen there!! i definitely don't see a threesome for them, they're far too devoted to each other in every way! <33
ohhh i would love to read something about mia eating out lynn while harry is watching?? or anything about them haha. do u think it's something mia would like? i feel like she'll be soooo nervous first and then she'll like it hahaha (sorry if i wrote something wrong english isn't my first language :p)
i love this idea but tbh i don't think there's anything more going to happen between lynn & mia!! that one little kiss was as far as that storyline is gonna go - or perhaps some flirting. but mia is way too devoted to harry and i don't think she'd feel comfortable really baring herself to someone like that. harry soothes that ache plenty for her :') ❤️
CELESTIAL | I. LAW OF UNIVERSAL GRAVITATION
6.1k words - on-going story
story summary here
** please be nice, this is the first on-going story I'll be posting!!
Tuesday mornings were nothing to brag about, especially when my statistics class started at eight in the morning. I’d gotten in the simple routine—wake up around six, roll out of bed, take a shower, eat some breakfast, and get on my way.
It was weird what our bodies did normally. The idea of routine, the idea of being simple. Creating routine was one of the easier things that I had been able to teach myself. It was scientific; learned behavior became natural to humans. Practice made perfect.
I always got ready that early and found time to myself before the sun fully rose in the sky. I didn't have a problem waking up early, I never had—maybe that’s what made it easier for me, though. I never bothered my mum about school, or never once tried to sleep-in because I didn’t want to go to school. Something about being up early was always comforting to me.
Well, being up early and being in school were both comforting to me in different ways.
Seeing the moon circle around the earth again was kind of freaking cool, if I was honest. My mum never had to worry about me staying up late and hiding under my covers with a book—well, she did have to worry about that a little bit— but mostly, she had to worry about me taking the telescope to the window so early in the morning.
The moment when the sun and the moon pass because the darkness is fading– everyone always talks about the sunrise, but what about the moon falling? I always liked seeing the change. It was when the night met the daylight, and the world turned over.
This morning wasn’t really like that at all, considering it had been chucking it down with rain since the moment I opened my eyes. The sound of rain woke me up early. I sat with the window open next to my bed, listening to the sounds of it pour off the roof of our apartment.
When six rolled around, I was ready to get up. I rubbed over my eyes, yawning. The glasses that sat on my nightstand were thrown on my face as I trekked to my own bathroom—thankfully, I didn’t have to share with my roommate.
I turned on the shower, letting it run for a minute to warm up. I shivered at the thought of the water hitting me instead. The warm water soothed me this early, breathing in the steam to release anything that had built up in the night. I let it run over my neck and face, feeling the warmth of the water wake me up.
The shower routine turned into brushing my teeth, towel drying my hair a bit, and doing my morning skin routine.
Once the shower was done, I chose a plain black sweatshirt with a hood and a pair of jeans, threw on my old pair of black Vans, and made my way out into the kitchen with my backpack.
All the lights were off still; Chase didn’t have class until around ten, so he was never up this early. He strategically chose to make sure that all his classes were later in the morning because he knew he’d never make them. I smiled to myself at the thought.
I threw a Pop-Tart in my bag and started to head out of the apartment, knowing that I’d have a bit of time to just eat on my way to class instead. Campus was only a short walk, but the rain was chucking it this morning and didn’t seem to be letting us even as I had gotten ready. I decided that I’d just hop in my car and head over to the building instead of walking a mile in the rain.
Parking on the street was the only option for our apartment building, so I hopped into my car and headed towards the main mathematics building on campus. As soon as I turned on the radio, I let the sounds of 1979 by The Smashing Pumpkins in the speakers as I relax against the seat. I push my hand through my damp hair, annoyed that there were a few rain spots on my glasses.
There are a lot more cars on the road around the flats and campus when the weather was bad. Kids always decided to get rides or drive to class themselves, which meant that parking was like receiving a trophy. There were only a few spots here and there.
But, because I was prompt and on time, I got a spot close to the door that I had to go into. I put the car in park, sitting for a moment before I went to grab the Pop-Tart from my bag. I opened it, taking a bite of one of them as I relaxed in the seat and let the sound of the radio mix with the sound of the rain.
It didn’t bother me that I hadn’t spoken to anyone yet that morning. Life was usually quiet. There were people who I knew needed to have that connection of someone else around them. I never understood that.
Silence and the solace seemed to comfort me in a way that wasn’t too explainable. I knew that people worried about it—people saw it as a sign of something worse than it was—it was odd to people who didn’t know how it felt. But I truly felt more comfort in the way that my routine worked, rather than the fast-paced environment of always needing to be around others.
I didn’t let myself down, usually. I had comfort in knowing I was dependable; I would always be there for me.
I was at my own pace; I had my own comfort in satisfaction rather than needing distraction. I was able to work on my own life and not worry about having to work on anyone else’s. There was certainly a difference between being alone and being lonely.
My mum worried I didn’t interact enough, my sister worried that I wasn’t thriving in the space like anyone else was—she liked to project herself onto me at times.
“When I was college, I was at the bars practically every night. You can afford to go every once in a while, you know.” She’d tell me. In some respects, I understood what she meant. There was validity to her concerns for me. And I was glad that she was able to experience what she wanted, and she was able to look back and feel that it made her a better person.
But that didn’t interest me in the slightest, and I think I had to respect that for myself.
I wouldn’t be able to wake up early if I drank too much; it would throw my routine off, and I wasn’t interested in losing that, either. I didn’t want to not know where I was, or how to do something. I didn’t want to lose control like that. The people that I hung around with to study—none of us were interested in that.
I was interested in receiving my degree, I was interested in the mathematic world—I was interested in everything that was built up around the world. I was interested in learning why everything happened and figuring out scenarios that felt impossible and making them work. I was interested in logic and satellite launches that I had to live stream from the space stations.
In school, I was the captain of the academic team and won gold with the national robotics team two years in a row.
Now, I was finally in the part of life where I had always dreamed of having—studying astrophysics and mathematics at Oxford. I was following in the footsteps of only the greatest mathematicians and physicists of my generation, and eventually my name would be just as notable as his.
Stephen Hawking and Harry Styles. I thought they sounded nice next together if I was honest.
I check my phone, noticing I have about fifteen minutes until class begins. I throw my hood over my head before I grab my backpack from the passenger seat. The rain is coming down when I step out in the parking lot. I quickly make my way to the door, holding it open for another person coming in behind me. The hood hangs from my head as I take my glasses off to wipe the residual rain droplets off them.
The lecture hall that I make my way inside is old. It’s not been updated in so many years, but something about that makes it feel that much more incredible to be walking the same halls of some of the most extraordinary brains to ever exist.
Even if it’s for a general ed statistics course that I need to fill; it’s one of the easiest courses on my schedule this year. I didn’t fill it first year, as I wanted to give myself the most difficult courses I could my first year. I was excited to learn—and statistics wasn’t what I wanted to enjoy when I was in college.
So, I decided to add it in this semester. It’s almost October now—we’re a few weeks into my sophomore year. I’ve loved every minute of being here in this establishment, and I’ve loved everything that it has brought me.
My gravitational pull to this place feels right, and being in this class must have meaning other than the obvious need to graduate. Maybe something will strike—maybe a thought or something that the professor says will undoubtedly make me think about all the other unanswered questions.
I take a seat closer to the back; I think it helps me to be able to set all my papers out in front of me and be able to take notes where I need to. I’m not a huge note person, as I just try to listen. I feel it helps to just keep my mind open. Information goes in, and seemingly, just stays there.
I’m one of the first ones in the hall, but as the time starts to near, there’s around a hundred kids that take up the lecture hall—easily. It’s a gen-ed course, which means that it’s kids from all over the university. The row I’m in is seemingly empty; kids don’t always show up to class, a lot of kids like sitting closer to be able to see what the professor is drawing on the board to try to copy for themselves.
I basically teach myself as I sit with the textbook, trying to follow along with the professor’s words and everything seemingly makes sense.
I pull my water bottle out of my bag to take a sip. The sound of the room in seemingly quiet except for the professor’s words; my brain is focused on the ideas of categorical equations and numeric sequences before an overwhelming presence takes over to the right of me.
“Excuse me,” I hear the voice again, a bit closer to me, “Is this seat taken?” I hear as I stare at the front of the room. I turn my head to the side a bit in a little confusion.
She's standing there with absolutely dripping hair; her jacket is sand-colored but looks like it’s coated in water droplets. She has the most doe-eyed stare I'd ever laid my own on; her eyes are chocolate and amber at the same time and for some reason I don’t know why I can’t answer right away.
I’m not even recognizing that I’m staring until I can't let my eyes leave, and I watch her shift on her toes a bit impatiently before she looks at the students behind us.
“Oh– no, no it's open.” My voice is quiet, as the professor is talking only up ahead. I'm trying to pay attention to both, trying my best to be respectful to the professor and the girl next to me who’s trying to find a seat even though it’s almost halfway through the lecture.
I move my backpack from the seat that she goes to pull out, my hands place the backpack under the desk near my feet instead. My eyes try not to drift, but I can't help but watch as she starts to unpack her belongings. There's a notebook, which is undeniably wet, and a small textbook which we use for the class.
Also, soaking. Dripping, practically.
“Fuck,” She curses, her hands going to run through the dripping pages before she lets her backpack fall to the floor in a huff.
I can tell that her stress level is at a high, all her belongings are soaking wet from what looks to be walking to class in the rain. I’m watching as she fumbles her way around her bag, trying her best to wipe some of the water off, trying to salvage what’s left.
But it’s obvious that most of her belongings have been ruined from the rain.
“Do you need paper?” I ask her, my quiet voice possibly too quiet as she starts to search through her bag without acknowledging me.
She didn’t hear me. I adjust in my seat a little bit, maybe seeing if she would look over from just my movements. She was distracted from trying to piece herself back together, and I could tell that her brain wasn’t in the place to hear anything else.
I clear my throat, turning a bit towards her again so maybe my voice would be heard. “Sorry, do you need some paper?”
Her head jerks towards me, almost a bit in shock like she was surprised I was talking to her at all. I watch as her face goes from an anxious state to a more softened one when she sees that she's also startled me in the process.
“Oh,” She nods a few times. “Yes, please. If you don’t mind.”
I opened my folder up, pulling a few blank pages out to hand to her. I see that her nails are chipped lilac when she goes to grab them.
The paper was gifted to me every year from my grandfather who was the one providing me the opportunity to go to college in the first place. Well, providing the funding for this adventure, at least.
So, in true Styles fashion, the small H.S. imprinted on the top with a simple logo of Saturn sat next to it. It was an official letterhead, and it was the only loose paper I had with me.
For a moment, I thought about forgetting the whole thing because in honesty, this was a bit embarrassing– but my brain and my actions didn't catch up as I handed her a few sheets and watched her eyes trace over it.
I can tell a hint of a smile when she sees the writing up on it at the top, her pen clicking in the process. In our lecture hall, there are over a hundred kids sitting and listening about chi-squares tests and the uses of categorical variables.
And I seemed to miss a bit of the conversations due to lack of concentration, a bit of distraction. That never really happened to me before, but this overwhelming scent of orange blossoms must have been trailing from her. An obvious distraction, but not one that I thought I would be caught up in.
I push my glasses on my face as I go to write down a specific note that was mentioned by the professor about possibly being on the test for tomorrow. I had caught that bit, thankfully.
The girl next to me sighs; the audible noise of annoyance is obvious when I look over at her. Her eyebrows are knit together as she pulls out her agenda, making more noise that just seems to be audible to me as we’re a few of the only ones in our row of seats.
When she notices that the notes of her calendar are also damp, she settles back in her chair for a minute.
“God fucking damnit.” She huffs. She takes a ribbon around her wrist. Pulling her hair back frantically into a taut ponytail, she holds her head in her hands, staring at the dampened notebook. “Could this day get worse? We have an exam tomorrow?”
I hear her words, and I'm not sure that she's talking to me or if she’s just speaking out into the universe. So, I stay quiet for a moment before I look up and feel that her head has turned to me. She was addressing me again, so I turn to see the amber eyes pleading at me as if I was the one who set the test schedules.
“I’m– uh, we really have a exam tomorrow?” She asks again; this time, I see she's looking at me with a worried glare.
“Yeah, uh,” I flip through a few papers to grab the printed-out syllabus to show her. I clear my throat, trying to stay quiet. “It's just going to be on basic inferential and standard deviation, I think. Maybe a bit of categorical stuff, we just learned that on Tuesday, but I'm going to confirm with the professor after class. Not hard stuff, so we should be good.”
I watch as she looks away from me for a moment, “I just…yeah, I don't know. Statistics and I aren't really friends, I guess. I don't understand it at all, and I already feel like I’m behind. It's only the third week– fuck.”
She sounds stressed, and I feel bad. I don't know what to say to her, because I'm still not entirely sure if she's talking to me or if she's taking to herself. I just know that I'm listening and I'm struggling between involving myself and leaving it be.
“Thank you all. Let me know if you have questions, I will see you tomorrow for the exam.”
The professor’s words made everyone start to stand up, grabbing their materials to leave. Her eyes look around the room in the same amount of panic.
“Shit– lecture is already over?” She says, checking her phone time. The way that her shoulders shrug down is so dismissive as she looks around at the kids starting to move up the aisles and towards the door.
“It’s only a fifty-minute lecture,” I tell her softly, trying to not make her any more upset. “Do you—” I take in a breath, wondering if I’m starting to intrude on her life and what she’s needing, but I still feel like I have the obligation to ask, “I mean, do you have some questions about the test tomorrow?”
I see her looking over some of the notes—some of the papers that weren’t completely drenched by the rain that I can tell that she raced through to be here. Her eyes fall down the messiness of the handwriting. I can tell that there were many times she messed up, or times she didn’t completely understand something and wrote in the margins. There’s ink everywhere, I don’t know how she stays organized or knows what she’s looking at.
The scratches over things are plentiful, and I relax in my seat rather than starting to get up like everyone else.
Maybe she doesn’t even know where to begin. It’s our first exam in this class, but I’m not worried about it in the slightest bit. I’ve passed through Calculus and Algebra, and since this is just a required class for graduation, I know that I don’t have to worry.
She starts to shake her head as she looks flustered, throwing her papers back into a folder with finality.
“I’m not trying to hold you up, you probably need to get somewhere—I'll just, um, I’m sorry.” She shakes her head, zipping up her backpack quickly.
She’s trying her best to get away, and I can see that she’s possibly a bit embarrassed by how quickly she came in. How she wasn’t just late to class, but she also didn’t seem to have any idea about what was going on in the first place.
It seemed that maybe she had something else on her mind, and I don’t thinks he can be faulted for that.
“No,” I shake my head, standing up with my backpack to mimic her. It hangs from my shoulder on one side, pulling it up a bit as I watch the lecture hall clearing out quite quickly. “No, I’m not in a hurry. I mean—”
“Just—thanks for the paper. That was nice of you.” The girl gives a soft smile, the softest smile that her face can seem to manage as I notice that she seems to be a bit upset. Her back turns to me and I’m now left standing there with no one else now.
I look around for a moment, thinking about what I was doing before my life was interpreted in a way. My life is always so ruled by the way that I wanted to live it—I was not easily distracted, my mind never really went to places that felt fuzzy or uneven.
But something about that interaction left me a bit speechless. I don’t even know her name, but something about that made my brain feel a little bit blurry.
There’s another person down with Professor Turvel, asking questions about the exam for tomorrow, I was certain. I knew that I needed to go down there—to make myself known and question the best ways to solve the problems, to understand what needed to be studied the most. Most people didn’t take these kinds of classes seriously, but anything that had to do with my education was serious to me.
I always asked questions—every time there was a exam, I made sure I had all the notes to understand concepts and what would exactly be on the exam so I could stay up and ensure that I knew the concepts like the back of my hand. Sometimes, the professors even assured me that I would know all the material, and not to worry so much. That didn’t keep me from asking.
As I watched the girl moving to leave the lecture hall, opening the door herself because someone hadn’t held it open for her. An instinct rose in me that was so foreign that I hadn’t understood it before.
I didn’t know why I decided to follow her instead. But my feet drug me up the steps and towards the door that would lead out into the halls, where kids were now scattered. Her backpack was purple, a dark purple with small white polka-dots. It should have been a bit easier to find, but I just held my stance at the door, turning my head to see if I could find her.
I’d know her if I saw her, she was distinctive, striking, even. Her dark hair and eyes shone against the warm tones of her skin. When she came in, it was a curly mess—dark curls, practical ringlets.
I held onto the shoulder strap of my bag, watching as kids were moving out of the corridors to head out to their next classes and outside. It seemed that she must’ve slipped out, gotten away from me when I had been looking for her.
Letting out a sigh, I lick over my lips softly. My shoulders let go—I try to push the thoughts out of my mind. Instead, it was time for me to start to prepare for my next class of the day. I had a physics class just upstairs, but I would show up prematurely to prepare and write all my calculations on the board for the lab portion of it.
It was best to be early so I could collaborate with fellow students, and it was even encouraged to allow for that time. I pull my backpack fully onto my back, both straps on my shoulders as I start to head towards the stairs to the lecture halls that were situated upstairs. They were smaller, for the specified classes.
I pulled my backpack around my middle for a moment to grab the headphones that I had placed in the small pocket in the front for my short walk. When I go to insert the headphones into my ears, I do a double take because I’m not sure that I believe my eyes as they seem to possibly trick me.
Over by the large doors. Purple with white polka-dots. The phone against her ear is being held up unwillingly; she doesn’t look like she’s invested in the conversation, but mostly upset by it.
I watch as she shakes her head, her mouth stern as she speaks into the receiver. Instantly, she takes the phone away and shakes her head before placing her thumb to end the call.
I couldn’t make out what she’s saying because we’re still too far apart. I don’t want to make it seem like I’m staring, or that I’m listening in at all. My feet guide me towards the general area, as the door to the stairs is just around the corner from where she’s standing.
She’s standing there with her arms crossed, looking out of the door as if she’s waiting for someone. It looks a bit impatient; she’s just as upset as she was back in the lecture hall, and maybe now even more so.
I don’t know what it means, but it seems that she’s a bit off and I just can’t let it go. I don’t know what’s gotten into me this morning, but my feet seem to only… pull me closer. I’d have to debate Newton’s laws of gravitational pull, because the Earth’s axis seemed to be tilting just a bit.
Wherever she seemed to be is where gravity was pulling. And nothing about that made sense in the logical world, so my brain was a bit scattered about how that could have even been a possibility.
In an anxious turn of my shoe, I head towards her. I pivot from walking towards the steps and decide that a soft approach towards her is an option that I’m willing to take.
“Um, I’m sorry—I’m not trying to interrupt,” I approached her, softly. As one would a wounded animal, like she might get scared if I spoke loud enough. Her head turns towards me, her fingers move up against her cheek as she tries to look more pulled together, like she was unraveling quickly.
I notice that there’s a tear stain on her cheek, but she did her best to clear it away. Something about that doesn’t sit right with me and I clear my throat as I try to not embarrass her by noticing.
When she doesn’t speak, I just shake my head a little, trying to make sense of what’s come over me.
“I—I mean, are you okay? You,” I push my glasses up on my nose, “Are you waiting for someone?"
Crossing her arms over her chest, she takes in a deep breath. I watch the sleekness of her hair back in the ponytail cross over her shoulder when she stares at the ground.
I’ve always been partial to understanding when people were upset. I didn’t know what it was. My mum always told me I was just sensitive, my sister telling me that I probably watched too much Bambi as a kid.
Something about watching someone suffer endlessly, without another word, hit home. I didn’t want her to feel like she was alone, if she didn’t want to be. That was the difference—I wanted to be alone most of the time, so I didn’t mind. But that didn’t mean that she did. Maybe she wasn’t—maybe I was overstepping. As I overthought it, I shifted on my feet as she stood in a solitude of silence from the corridors of the university filtering out for the next sessions.
But it just felt like my heart was understanding right now.
“I’ve just had a... difficult morning, really,” She starts, shrugging. The problems are brushing off her shoulders when she looks up at me once again. I see that the sadness reigns in her eyes, but it’s being shielded by the layers of needing to show that everything was fine. “I’m okay. Seriously. I know this probably looks insane but trust me. I’m fine.”
There wasn’t anything I could do but trust that she was. I didn’t know her—I didn’t even know her name. I didn’t know anything else about her, and while I could notice that there were still tears welled up in her eyes, the smile had been the greatest mask of it all.
I nod at her, taking the moment to try to understand if that’s the cue to leave. When she starts to turn around just a bit, I settle with the idea that the conversation has ended. It’s ended, and it’s time for me to move back towards the stairs.
My brain recomputes that I have physics in about twenty minutes, and I’m going to go upstairs to dispute Hawking’s radiation theory of black holes. That’s where the gravitational pull is taking me next—it has to be.
As I go to place the earbud back into my ear, making a few steps towards the door that held the stairs, I hear the voice again.
“Hey,” Her voice rings out just a bit, as we’re now the only two in the corridor of the hallways. I turn my head back, our eyes reconnecting. Her eyes blink a few times as she lets out a sigh, which almost makes her look like she could break down at any moment, but I hold my breath. It looks like she had been holding in that breath for a while, so her shoulders drop to meet mine. “Do you—what if I did have questions about the exam tomorrow?”
I don’t know if words come out of my mouth in an answer, so I’m trying to compute what she said. Unfortunately, I think that she notices so she presses on.
“Like, could you help me study?” She asks, pressing on. “You said it was easy—I just, I need some extra help because I—I just have a lot going on.”
I pause in my tracks, not anticipating her questions or flat-out asking for my help.
“Oh.” I swallow dryly, as she stares at me with the slightest bit of eagerness for my answer I hadn’t noticed that in her eyes before, and I’m not sure that I’m used to it. I’m not sure that I’m prepared for how… she looks with hope coating her eyes. “Oh—yeah, I mean, I’ll be in the library tonight around six if you want to, like if you want to come study or something.” I shrug, “I can help you.”
I watch as a hint of a smile starts to turn at the edges of her lips. She holds the crossing on her arms over her chest tightly, as if to feel an odd sense of comfort from it.
“Can I meet you there tonight, then? You won’t mind?” She asks, her voice a bit unsure. It’s like I’d say no, even though I was the one who offered in the first place.
I’m still taken aback by the response of her wanting to meet me there at all. Thursday nights usually meant that the library was the quietest day in the week. Most people went out on Thursday’s around here to start their weekend—it was apparently the best bar deals, but I hadn’t taken advantage of that.
It was the best day to be in the library, just because of that.
“Yes. Yeah, of course, you can—” I pause for a moment, blinking a few times as I stick my hand out to her recognizing how I hadn’t even introduced myself to her yet, “Sorry—I’m Harry.”
Her eyes widen just a bit at my words before she starts to giggle a bit, her hand fitting into mine. My molars bite the inside of my cheek just at the grip, the softness of her hand in my palm has me distracted for a moment.
“Stella.”
Stella.
Stella. Stella. Stella. Stella.
“Star.” I say, a bit under my breath. She tilts her head a little bit at my whisper before I shake my head with a little bit of a laugh. I feel embarrassed that I spoke out loud and she heard, so I just try to explain the thought process with a simple shrug.
“It’s, your name, it’s ‘star’ in Latin,” I pull on the strap of my bag before I’m biting on my lip a little bit, “It’s a nice name.”
I watch as Stella’s face has started to turn into more of an arraigned softness; her features not as harsh, her brow isn’t knit.
“Sorry, I don’t know the origin of Harry.” Her chuckle is playful as she shakes her head.
“It, uh,” I rub the back of my neck as I feel an odd hint of embarrassment play on my cheeks, “Means ‘home’. Or something like that.”
As I watch her face, I study it as best as I can without seemingly staring, I watch her eyes move between mine.
I look away when I notice that she hasn’t—she’s still looking for a moment longer. I clear my throat to try to break up the instant staring game that we’ve started. I check my phone in an awkward angle to get out of the moment that has seemingly turned quiet, when I recognize how long I’ve been standing here.
9:26.
“Shoot,” I say quickly, “I have class in a few minutes. I’ll—”
She cuts me off as I adjust my bag on my shoulder, hoisting it up.
“Oh, fuck—I’m going to be late.” She checks her own phone to confirm the time for herself before the smile catches on her face, “I’ll see you tonight, Harry.” Stella confirms, nodding a few times.
Before I know it, I watch as she walks behind me and towards the other door on the other side of the hallway. I didn’t even get a chance to ask for her phone number—knowing I’d stumble my way through that sentence.
Not really a sentence I’ve ever really asked casually before.
It was odd—that feeling in my brain. The feeling of blurriness, almost like nothing had been in there at all. It was like every thought I’d had was placed into a certain box now, unable to think of anything else except for the way that Stella’s eyes were merely amber and bronze all at the same time.
I shook my head, thinking that the physical movement may take my attention back to what I was supposed to keep my eye on. I put my headphones back in, moving towards the stairs as I climb them quickly.
I wouldn’t have enough time to write all my worked equations on the board. But, for the first time in my entire life, there was a feeling of ease that happened to replace the anxious voices that mirrored in my head. There was confusion; one unexplained.
Having to be smart enough.
Having to be good enough.
Having to be enough.
Logically, this didn’t make sense—this feeling of satisfaction that rested in my chest and head. It was like an overcome sense of relief.
Maybe Hawking had a theory to explain this feeling that had completely dismissed my thoughts and worries— it had complete trampled it, made me unaware of the worry that I may be late to class, or that I may not be prepared. Maybe it had already been explained and logic had nothing to do with it.
I shook my head at the thought, entering the familiarity of the physics lab. The third table to the right was where I placed all my belongings in the same routine that I had made for weeks.
This time, just another atom of a thought processes through my brain and into my cerebrum—allowing the thoughts to muster and to sit as I thought about what I would be doing for the next eight hours.
The library never made me feel lonely, and for once, I wouldn’t be alone.
And today, I was okay with that.
________________
THANK YOU FOR READING THE FIRST CHAPTER OF THIS <3 please please please let me know what you think!!! I'm excited to share this with a new audience, so please be nice!!
Hi, I just wanted to say that last night I came across your work and read 'the deal' in like a few hours and loved it 🥰🥰, you are such a good writer, the story was full of depth and I could picture some things like a movie, claire and Harry are the cutest and their little family with fin and atlas is adorable. Don't know if it's all done or if there's space for another chapter but I'd love to see them with the new baby, to read the boys as big brothers and also just a question for my curious mind, you mentioned Harry's mom briefly, could you elaborate on how Anne and Claire met? Was she nervous? I Imagine Anne being super warm and loving that her son is happy again maybe even giving back claire all that motherly love she might be missing.
Sending you much love x
thank you soooo much, this is such a nice message 🥰🥰 i'm not too sure if claire would be nervous, maybe harry teased her a bit hahaha (claire makes him feisty lol) but i'm sure it was lovelyyy and they'd get along well!!! i'm sure anne would be happy to see harry so carefree and 'young' in mind and to see their boys together :')). their family is my fav and i think about them alll the time tbh!! another chapter is not in the works and is probably not gonna happen! i imagine them having another boy (claire gives me boy mum vibes) and the boys would be so sweet too - especially atlas ❤️❤️
please tell me you're writing more spicyyyy stuff between harry mia and lynn jfjgjfj🙏🏻 i spent all weekend reading informed consent on wattpad and I'm IN LOVE def one of my favorites!!!!!!
OH!!!! NO WAY 😭😭 that's so nice hehehe. well every chapter has smut sooooo yeah stuff is coming up 😁 anything in particular you wanna read? lmk!!!!
We need some cheatrry + y/n and her husband at some school event that requires them to all be in the same room and tension that comes from that
you're a genius bestie
word count: 1.2k
content warnings: harry and y/n are having an affair so discussions of cheating, smut mentions
cheatrry part one | cheatrry check-in
masterlist | talk to me
. . .
Y/N is sweating.
She swallows tightly as she feels a bead of sweat sliver its way down the back of her neck. Normally, she's the only one who cares about attending the monthly parent meetings at her kids' school. Normally, her husband couldn't care less, and normally, Harry stays as far away as humanly possible from her.
But of course, tonight isn't normal.
Why would it be?
Because tonight, Y/N's husband showed up to his first school event in months. And when Harry walked in, his eyes zeroed in on the woman he's been secretly hooking up with and instantly noticed the empty seat next to her.
So now, Y/N is wedged between the man she's married to, who hardly even acknowledges her presence half the time, and the man she's having an affair with, who offers her too much attention, only on his terms.
She knows Harry won't say anything too obvious in front of everyone, but the fact that he even chose the seat next to her is enough to have her stomach swarming with nerves. So much so that she can't focus on what the principal is droning on about — was it a new school lunch initiative, or had they moved on from that 20 minutes ago? — and instead is entirely too fixated on the way Harry's flexing his ring-clad fingers over the fabric of his plaid trousers.
She takes a quiet breath in an attempt to recenter herself. She shouldn't be having flashbacks to a few days ago, when those very fingers were knuckle-deep in her pussy. Or the week prior, when he took her from behind in the bed that she and her husband slept in (albeit feet apart), moaning and writhing as he circled the rim of her asshole with his thumb.
She begins to wonder if he's intentionally trying to distract her. On her other side, her husband is essentially dead weight, and she ponders why he even decided to tag along tonight anyway. He rarely shows care towards their children's education, instead opting for showcases of opulence and wealth as his preferred love language. It had gotten old for Y/N years ago — hence why she sought out other... opportunities.
Crossing her legs, she rotates her ankle as she, yet again, adjusts her focus to the speaker in front of them. They've moved onto the topic of the school's annual end-of-year fundraiser — this year, they're raising money for a new front garden (why a school needs one of those is a mystery to her) and parents are eagerly offering ways to help. Hardly anyone ever wants to volunteer to actually work the event, instead sending a donation or something to bid on.
"Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N, will you two be donating anything to the fundraiser this year?"
Principal Baker's question rips her out of her hamster wheel of thinking and she swallows thickly, her lips parting nervously. Harry must sense that she's floundering because ever so smoothly, he crosses a leg over the other and leans forward to speak up.
"I believe Mrs. Y/L/N was talking about volunteering for the event," he says, never once even darting a glance her way. "I would like to as well. The twins have been begging me to get move involved."
The crowd chuckles at Harry's effortless charm and Principal Baker claps his hands excitedly. From beside her, Y/N's husband leans over to catch her ear.
"I have a golf trip that weekend. I won't be in town." he mutters. Y/N tries her hardest not to roll her eyes. It was a rather predictable move on his part.
When the meeting finally comes to an end, Y/N's eager to get as far away from both Harry and her husband. She's not upset that he tossed her name in to volunteer (she's a stay-at-home mom who sucks at baking, crafting, and cooking, so she really has nothing else to offer), but the mere position of being between the duo has pushed her far over the cusp of discomfort. As her husband rises to predictably tend to the snack table, she immediately darts away to rush to the bathroom.
She allows herself a few minutes of privacy in one of the stalls, breathing slowly and deeply. She knows Harry sat next to her to fuck with her. She knows her husband doesn't have a golf trip that weekend, but now he's probably scheduling one as she stands here (either that, or he's texting his mistress — she wouldn't be surprised if he had one, and she couldn't blame him, either).
Her eyes only flutter open when she hears the door swing open, and she hopes it's not one of the nosy moms asking when she and Harry became friends.
But then, she hears an all-too familiar voice, followed by the click of a lock.
"Y/N?"
She freezes, her eyes widening.
"I know you're in here," Harry continues, his tone bored, "You couldn't get away from there sooner."
Swallowing tightly, she unlocks the stall and sends a glare his way. She steps forward to the sink to wash her hands.
"You shouldn't have sat next to me. That was mortifying."
"Why?"
"Because," she huffs, ripping a piece of paper towel to dry the moisture away, "It just was."
"If you can't handle sitting next to me, you should figure out another way to volunteer your time for the fundraiser."
Y/N narrows her eyes at him. "I didn't need you to do that, either."
He shrugs.
"Are you really that angry?" he asks, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his pants.
"No. I just didn't like being in that situation."
"Sooner or later, you have to admit to yourself that you're cheating on him."
"I know I am," she says through grit teeth, "We don't have to fucking parade it, though."
Harry hums, an irritating and noncommittal sound, and she reaches for her phone in her purse to make sure her husband isn't looking for her.
"Rumor has it, he's whisking Theresa DeSorbo away that weekend anyway."
For the second time, her movements stall. A smirk curves at the edges of Harry's lips.
"Don't tell me you didn't know he was fucking her."
"I didn't," she admits, a bit forcefully, "I mean, I'm not surprised he has someone. I just didn't know it."
Again, Harry shrugs. "We've been sleeping together longer."
"It's not a competition." she mumbles as she lifts her palm to her forehead. She feels a bit dizzy; the actualization that her husband is seeing someone else still not fully processing.
"Don't get upset," he murmurs, walking towards her. Slowly, backs her up against the sink until her bum is pressed up against the cool marble. She swallows, blinking at him. "You know you deserve better than him anyway. Your pussy deserves better."
"I have nothing to be upset about." she mutters.
"Exactly."
When he sees that her mind is still whirring, he cups her chin in his palm, bringing it up to face him. His thumb plucks at her bottom lip, allowing himself to pull it before watching it snap back into place.
"You're a good girl, Y/N. He never deserved you. Not for a second."
Y/N scoffs. "You don't mean that."
Harry's mouth curves into a slight frown.
"I do," he says. He takes a step back before checking the watch around his wrist. "The twins have soccer practice tomorrow at 4. Let me know if you want to come by."
And with that, he's gone.
When Y/N finally musters the energy to check her phone, her husband still hasn't texted or called.
!! this series was originally harry styles fanfiction, i edited it and changed his last name :)
Description: a series of one shots following 'informed consent: short story' -- in which mia and harry continue to explore their relationship and mia comes up with the bold idea to get piercings together
She had been for a long time, and by the small smile on Harry’s lips, she felt like he knew she was staring at him.
Mia sat at her usual spot in the library, her legs pulled up to her chest to make herself comfortable as she tugged at the sleeves of a large jumper – one she borrowed from Harry after making her way to campus and realizing it was much colder than she anticipated. She had called Harry on the way over and he gladly pulled something out of his closet for her to wear.
Harry wasn’t sure how to admit to Mia how sexy she looked in his clothes. She was basically swimming in his jumper, the sleeves already rolled up but still making her hands look like little paws, and the neckline revealed her own, thinner jumper she wore underneath.
He wasn’t sure how to bring that across to her, because what he really wanted to say was that he wanted to fuck her into oblivion as she wore that sweater.
And obviously, he couldn’t use those words without giving Mia a stroke, so he kept his mouth shut.
Mia was more subtle in her ways of admiring Harry. She did so by staring at him for what felt like hours. Without blinking. Without realizing time moved by. Without remembering how to breathe.
He sat opposite her today, their books and notes sprawled out on the table they had to themselves. He leaned his elbow on the table, his jaw on his hand as he stared at his notes with a furrowed brow, flipping a pencil around between his other fingers.
Bony, long fingers.
Mia was near drooling.
He wore his regular beanie to keep his wispy hair away from his face, to keep himself focussed while studying. He wore a similar jumper to hers, and Mia suspected that Harry liked for them to match. The pencil between his fingers had been swapped after he destroyed the pen he used earlier, leaking ink all over the fingers of his writing hand.
It had smudges now, and somehow Mia found that even sexier. There were some remains of chipped polish on his nails – something he insisted Niall did to him when drunk but Mia felt like he was just too shy to admit that he liked painting his nails – and there was the birthmark on his wrist.
She loved that detail of him. She loved him.
“Mia.” Harry murmured softly and she snapped out of her thoughts, lifting her rounded eyes, “Hm?”
Harry shot her a small smile, “You’re staring.”
It was the fourth time in a little over an hour, that he called her out for it. Mia nibbled on her lip and blushed, nodding to herself, “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” He whispered and Mia dropped her pen while letting out a sigh, “I’ve been studying really good for the past few hours, H.”
He nodded with an amused smile, “I know.”
Mia pouted at him, “Then why can’t we take a break?”
Harry chuckled and leaned over the table, staring at Mia’s notes in front of her. He had to tear his eyes away from her pouty face before he devoured her right here. Her hair was in a braid today, but more messy then usual. She was fresh-faced for their day of studying in the library and Harry was surprised how Mia was the bad student today. For once.
Usually it was him being distracted by her and her having to motivate him with little kisses to keep going. But Mia had a hard time today. She hadn’t seen Harry in two days and she had been so bubbly and excited since last night that she hardly slept.
He offered her a gentle smile and when Mia felt like his hands were in reach, she stretched hers out to feel his fingers. She didn’t care if she got ink smudges on them, she just wanted to feel his warmth. Harry leaned over the table further, “Sweetheart,” he crooned, “we’ve only been studying for less than two hours. I thought you said you wanted no breaks until lunch?”
“But I missed you.” She whispered, a small flush rising up her cheeks. In the weeks of her and Harry dating, she tried to get more comfortable with voicing her feelings. Like he was. Harry’s lips curled up into a pleasant smile and he gently squeezed her hands, “I missed you too, my love.”
“Then can I maybe get a kiss?” She softly spoke.
“Will that make you continue studying?”
Mia eagerly nodded and Harry sighed, giving in. He made it seem like it was a task, just to tease her, but by the time he reached, his hands hungrily grabbed at the sides of her face to tilt her head back.
He stood over her chair as she held onto his elbows, while he pressed his lips against hers. She tasted like her morning coffee from a short moment ago and he sighed out through his nose, kissing her firmly.
Harry’s friends had insisted on a ‘guy’s weekend’, which meant he had only seen Mia briefly on Friday night before being stuck with his mates on Saturday and Sunday. He had catching up to do with his studying and was still fighting off a hangover he felt like could take weeks to disappear, but Mia just made everything better.
He had been on his phone the entire weekend, calling her every chance he could to hear her sleepy voice late at night. They spoke until she fell asleep and he desperately tried to wake her for a bit, needing to hear her voice again. And then he’d leave her voice notes which she’d listen to in the morning.
Harry’s friends had branded them as clingy. It wasn’t new, it was also what Hazel called them and Harry couldn’t really disagree. He was always in arm’s reach from Mia, wanting to constantly touch her.
But Harry’s friends had missed him, and he couldn’t deny he had been spending a lot of time with his girlfriend. Harry and Mia tried to keep their private time, private. She hadn’t been around his friends all too much and Harry knew it wasn’t because she didn’t like them, but crowds still caused her anxiety to spike even if it were people she knew.
Mia blossomed when it was just the two of them. She got cheeky and teasing, crawling on top of him and initiating kisses until Harry felt floaty and breathless.
It had been a couple of weeks since Harry and Mia touched each other for the first time, divulging in a physical lust that lead them to her bed with his head between her legs and her name shakily trembling from his lips as his eyes rolled back.
Things hadn’t gotten easier for Harry. If anything, he couldn’t get the image out of his head of a writing Mia with her doe eyes full of hunger and her lips open as they smeared against his. He couldn’t stop thinking of the way her body moved on top of him, grinding him to an orgasm.
They had done it twice more since then, usually in the same way. In her bed, Harry on top and kissing her until they somehow slipped of a few pieces of clothing. Harry knew Mia was shy to touch him, but her eyes had been curious the first time he pulled his prick out to jerk off after making her finish on his tongue.
Mia had stared intently at how his fist wrapped around his shaft, veiny and red and the head enlarged and weeping precum that streaked over her tummy. And then she slowly dragged her eyes up his bare chest until reaching his eyes, and Harry’s face screwed up into pleasure before he begged her to let him cum – and she did. She gave him the permission and her words were hardly out before he doubled over with a groan and a squeeze to her hip, releasing on her soft skin.
Mia had learned that Harry had a thing with that. Asking her if he could finish. As if he needed her permission to do so, as if it turned him on to have her take control. It was thrilling but also scary, because Mia wasn’t sure if she’d ever be ready for that. After doing stuff three times, she had grown slightly comfortable with Harry taking on that role. It had turned a little predictable, but Mia liked that.
Structure.
Hazel called her a control freak over it, but used the word perfectionist to bring the message across a little gentler.
“No, one more.” Mia pouted against Harry’s lips as he pulled back, her fingers tugging on the sleeve of his jumper and he chuckled, bumping their noses together, “One more,” he whispered, “and then we continued.”
“Since when are you such a serious student?” Mia scoffed slightly in fake frustration and Harry’s dimples popped in an amused smile, shaking his head lightly, “I’ve corrupted you.” He whispered, kissing her again.
Mia tried to push herself off of the chair to kiss him deeper but Harry pulled back in time before they got out of hand, leaving Mia with a pouty face that he could feel pulling on his heartstrings.
It didn’t help that she was studying for her least favourite subject – data analysis – and that she had sort of made up her mind to switch to something else after Christmas exams. One semester into doing something she didn’t like, felt like enough.
She felt like she had settled on anthropology, but was continuously going back and forth without being able to make up her mind. It didn’t help that she couldn’t ask her parents for advice, because she had yet to tell them.
She had a little call with them over the weekend – probably another reason why she felt like she needed Harry so much right now – and it just didn’t come up. In the sense that Mia actively avoided talking about it.
She had admitted softly that she had stopped the therapy sessions and they had reprimanded her enough for that, she didn’t want to add fuel to an already raging fire. One disappointment at the time, she felt. Of course, her father continued comparing her academic career to her brother’s, who passed every exam with flying colours.
Aden was in business school more up north and Mia had to admit she hadn’t heard of him in months. She didn’t miss him.
“Mia.” Harry sighed, and she lifted her gaze again to see him shooting her a stern look, “You have to study. You’ll be disappointed in yourself if you don’t finish that chapter before lunch.”
She sighed and tucked her knees up a little higher, getting comfortable on the wooden chair she somehow fit on while folding herself in half. Her fingers tucked her loose hair behind her ears and she clicked her pen, “It’s so boring.”
“I know. But you’re a good girl and if you want to keep being a good girl, you’ll do as I ask you to.” Harr murmured. A tingle shot up Mia’s spine and it didn’t go unnoticed by Harry. He had noticed it before, how Mia just loved praise. In any sense of the word. He used it in sexual moments, but also in loving moments, and also in teasing moments – like right now.
She blushed a little, remembering how he went on and on about how good of a girl she was last weekend with her thighs split over him and his hands on her ass as she sat on top of him in a little thong that made him moan out with screwed-shut eyes the first second he laid eyes on it.
Mia had flushed a furious shade of red after putting on the delicate little piece of lingerie. She had taken Hazel’s advice and shopped for some pretty stuff to surprise Harry, but also to make herself feel sexier and more confident.
Harry couldn’t help but wonder at all times what she was wearing underneath her clothes. She wore tight leggings today to be comfortable at the library when studying, with her black boots and his jumper covering her up.
“Eyes on the notes, Mia.” Harry tutted her and she exhaled a trembling breath with soft pink cheeks while nodding, “Okay.”
He nodded with a smile and then turned his attention back to his own notes, trying not to be too distracted by her heavenly floral scent hanging around her. Harry couldn’t wait to have her smell all over his jumper. He was sure he’d sleep with it.
Mia and Harry refrained from sleeping together during the week, but over the past few weekends they had spent nights in her bed most often. On the nights that they didn’t get lost in each other’s bodies, they watched movies on her computer while cuddling up, or they stayed up and read their books or spoke about philosophy until dozing off to sleep.
Harry clung to her as Mia easily adapted to whatever position Harry pulled her in. She was the easiest sleeper he had ever come across, hardly moving throughout the night and she slept through all of his accidental kicks or elbows to the ribs or snores he exhaled into her neck.
Mia and Harry held true to their words, studying until lunch came around. Mia’s growling stomach indicated that it was noon, and Harry pushed his stuff together while letting out a sigh, then stretching his arms up in a yawn before relaxing his shoulders.
Mia’s eyes were back on him, as intently as ever as he glanced at her again. Harry wasn’t someone who got shy or blushy a lot, but Mia’s intense gaze could turn his cheeks pink easily. He chuckled a little, “What?”
She was back to staring at him with that wonder in her eyes, like he was the only thing she’d ever seen. Mia bit her lip and shrugged, “Nothing, I just love you.”
“Mia,” Harry softly cooed, “you absolute angel.” He got up to his feet, chair scraping back on the hardwood floors of the library. The winter sun shone through Mia’s favourite window in her favourite space, lighting up Harry in a soft hue as he walked over to her and cupped her cheeks again like he did before, tilting her head back, “I love you too.”
They kissed again, a few loving little doting kisses on waiting lips before pulling back when Mia’s stomach growled again.
“Let’s get some food into you, for an entire afternoon of productive studying.” Harry smirked as he pulled her up. Mia whined quietly, trying not to disturb any other students who were hidden behind the shelves of books surrounding their table in the library. Mia and Harry gathered their stuff and pushed their notes together to reserve their seats, before they put on their thick coats and exited the building.
Their hands were bundled together into Harry’s coat pocket and Mia tiredly leaned into his arm a little while making their way to the cafeteria on campus.
Harry waddled behind her in the line for food, suggesting that Mia took the warm soup and a bagel as he went for a club sandwich and planned on finishing off whatever soup Mia couldn’t finish. They had a thing for sharing some of their food ever since their first date. It just brought a sense of connection and comfort to eat half their food and switch plates.
They sat down at one of the tables in the middle, slipping in at a table where Harry recognized a few people from. They left room in between to have a bit of privacy, but Mia found herself glad to not have her lunches by herself anymore. If anything, she sought company during lunch.
She asked Hazel for her schedule or tried to have lunch at home when she had a skip in her classes. Or she texted Harry and they met up.
Sometimes, they studied at his dorm or Harry came over to the apartment and him, Hazel and her formed a little study club around the kitchen table.
All that they knew was that the past two weeks, classes had ended and it was full time study mode right about now. Exams started in a week and finished right before Christmas. Mia felt like she was somehow a little bit on schedule, but was still tremendously freaked out by all the things she had yet to do.
Harry, on the other hand, felt prepared as ever. He had never studied this much, had never felt so motivated, had never felt so inspired. All because of his Mia.
“Is it good?” Harry asked while chewing his food. Mia winced a little as the hot tomato soup burned her tongue a little. She fanned at herself, making Harry chuckle a little before she swallowed it down, “Really good, really hot.”
“I can tell.” He smiled, reaching his hand out for her spoon to take a little bit. He blew air on the orange soup and then put it in his mouth, tasting it too. He hummed and put the spoon back, “Really good. You want a bite of mine?”
He offered her his sandwich and Mia nodded, taking it from Harry as they shared their lunch.
“I don’t want to study anymore.” Mia complained while swirling her spoon through the soup. Harry chuckled, “Me neither. But we’re doing good, aren’t we?”
Mia nibbled her lip and straightened up, “Can’t we like… get a treat for ourselves tonight?”
Harry’s mind went to the filthiest places and he breathed out a chuckle, “I can think of a few treats.” He didn’t stop himself from speaking his mind and Mia blushed as she caught on, “Not like that.” She murmured before shrugging, “Well – maybe like that.”
Harry paused in raising his sandwich, staring at her with his brows up in surprise, “Seriously?”
Mia blushed deeper and didn’t say anything as she shifted in her seat and Harry put his sandwich down while chuckling, smirking at her with a little hum, “Y’really did miss me this weekend, did you?”
“I did.” Mia murmured and Harry’s heart thrashed in his chest as he reached his hand over to find her fingers, two dainty rings on her middle and pointer one, “Are you inviting me over to stay the night on a Monday, Mi?”
Mia’s chest fluttered at the nickname. Mi. She found herself nodding without even realizing it, always in a trance whenever Harry looked at her with these intense, teasing eyes and that lopsided smirk on his lips which just made her swoon, “Yes.” She whispered, “If you want to.”
Harry giddily nodded, “Of course I do. I missed you took, y’know?”
“You did?”
He nodded again, “Of course. Thought about you the entire time, missed waking up with you.”
Mia fought her wide smile as she squeezed his hand back, “Me too.”
“So, what adventurous thing do you want to do then tonight?”
Mia’s brows raised, “Oh – I-I don’t know.” She backtracked quickly and Harry smiled at her, “No, no, I think you had something in mind.” He teased a little. He wanted to know the ins and outs of Mia’s brain – especially the parts she kept hidden from him. He knew she had a dirty side. A very dirty side.
She had told him about her wet dreams and about the chats she had with Hazel to expand on her sexual knowledge. Mia knew stuff. She read stuff, she’d seen stuff. She was just too shy to initiate anything and Harry was still a little stuck in knowing how fast or far he could go with her. Besides, he was more than satisfied with what they did now.
He still just really didn’t want to scare her off in any way.
Mia nibbled her lip as she glanced her eyes up, “I did have an idea…”
Harry’s heartbeat picked up, wondering if she was really going to speak her mind about what she wanted in bed tonight, if she was really going to say the words, if she really had certain fantasies.
“Yeah?” He asked with a dry throat as Mia shifted and cleared her throat, “Mhm. I-I’ve been thinking of getting my ears pierced.”
Harry’s shoulders dropped a little as he frowned, “Oh.” It wasn’t what he was expecting, but Mia didn’t pick up on his confusion as she sighed out, “Yeah. I’ve had them pierced since I was a little girl, but I’ve kind of wanted to get like a second piercing, in my lobe.”
She brushed her braid over her shoulder to expose her left ear, and Harry stared at the little, subtle diamond stud in her lobe that he hadn’t really even noticed before. She had to be always wearing it for it to stand out this little, Harry thought. Mia then tapped her pointer finger to the skin next to her earring, “So here, maybe? I don’t know, what do you think?”
Harry cleared his throat and nodded, “I think it’d look really good. You’d be very pretty with it, sweetheart.”
“I just hope it doesn’t hurt too much.”
“Well, you’ve had the other two done, right?” Harry asked and Mia chuckled, “Yeah, but I was like… seven. I don’t remember.”
Harry cracked a smile, “If you don’t remember, it couldn’t have been that bad.” He convinced her. Mia smiled back and it grew a little wider as she nodded, “Okay. Well then, that’s what I’d like to do tonight.” She sounded proud, and Harry knew she was giddy. In Mia’s books, this was her acting completely crazy. It was doing something unplanned, a little risky, without her parent’s approval.
And Mia did feel a little reckless about it, but in a good way. Hazel would be proud, she felt. Taking a decision without making a pro’s and cons list and talking herself out of it about eighteen times before making the appointment and then cancelling last minute… she was stepping away from that.
She was going to do this. She was going to get her ear pierced. Tonight.
Mia’s chest bubbled in excitement as she played with Harry’s fingers, “Will you come with me?”
“Of course.” He nodded, “I’ll hold your hand.”
Mia nodded and then shrugged, “You know – uh… maybe you could… think about getting that nose ring again?”
He narrowed his eyes as his smirk slowly grew, “Yeah?”
She shrugged again, “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Mia…” Harry mused, “you’d like to see me with that nose ring, wouldn’t you?”
“Just… a normal amount.” She denied, “No more than I want to see you every day.”
Harry huffed out a chuckle, “Sure, you’re a shit liar, baby.”
His cursing came naturally yet Mia wasn’t accustomed to it yet. Especially when doing anything sexual, Harry could get very vocal and talkative. In a good way. Mia really took in his words in moments like that, and they travelled straight between her legs to make her even wetter than she already was.
She blushed a little at his words and rolled her lips inside her mouth, shyly leaning back into her chair to pull up one leg, “Maybe I’d like to see you wearing it, yeah.” She admitted softly.
“I did take it out when I started uni…” Harry mused out loud and Mia pouted a little, “Yeah, but lots of students in philosophy have piercings and tattoos. It’s not like the school forbids it.”
“Shit, baby, you really want me to get that hoop through my nose, hm?” Harry teased, fake sternly grabbing her fingers and Mia giggled to herself, sliding her phone towards Harry, “Will you call and make the appointment for tonight?”
He smiled, “Okay. So studying, piercings, dinner at your place and a sleepover? ‘S my lucky day.”
“Mine too.” She softly crooned, falling in love with him all over as Harry took her phone and dialled the number.
***
Mia regretted her decision a few hours later, when they were packing up their stuff a little before six to get the last appointment at the parlour.
Her little spurt of confidence had been short-lived, and she had to admit she had a bad studying day because before lunch, she had been constantly distracted by Harry, and after lunch, she had been constantly worrying about this piercing and if it would fit her.
Mia knew it was only an earlobe, not even cartilage or anything. If she wanted to take it out, she would and no one would know. It wasn’t a big deal, most people wouldn’t even notice.
She had made the decision in the blink of an eye, and now she felt like maybe she had to think it over a little bit. She couldn’t even imagine what her parents would say if they ever noticed. Harry gently held her hand as they exited the library. Mia smiled warmly at the librarian as Harry shot her a bit of a grumpy look before they braved the cold.
“Gonna walk home with me really quick to pick up my stuff for tonight, Mi?” Harry asked as they walked the campus grounds. Mia didn’t answer as she kept her eyes low and Harry softly squeezed her fingers before bringing their hands back together in his pocket, “Hm? What’s on your mind?”
“Oh.” She lifted her head and shook it, “Nothing, promise. Yeah, sounds good. We’re here now anyway.”
Harry narrowed his eyes, “Told you you’re a shit liar. You having second thoughts about the piercing?”
“A little.” She murmured and Harry hummed, “That’s okay. You don’t have to do it if you don’t feel like it. Or you can, but maybe another day if it doesn’t feel right.”
Mia pressed her lips together, “But… You’re coming with me because I asked you too and you’re getting your nose redone. So how sad would if be if I dragged you there and then didn’t even get anything myself?”
Harry chuckled, “Not sad at all. Like I said, you don’t have to do it if you don’t feel like it.”
“But I do feel like it.”
Harry turned his head to face her, nose slightly pink from the cold as she was bundled up in a thick coat and scarf, “Then what’s on your mind, my love?”
The many nicknames made her want to kiss him stupid over and over again. Mia caught her breath and shrugged, “I don’t know. I think I’m just a little scared.”
“It won’t hurt, if that what you’re worried about. It’s not cartilage, it’s just a little…” he brought his other hand to her free ear, trapping her lobe between his fingers before gently pressing down, “sting.”
“Harry.” Mia laughed, leaning out of his grip as he chuckled. Mia then sighed, “I don’t know. It’s stupid. I should just do it, right? I’m making a big deal out of this.”
“Maybe.” He shrugged, “I mean, I think you’d look incredible with it,” He pulled his key out of his other pocket, “I think you look amazing in everything.”
Mia blushed a little as they entered his building, the warmth embracing them as they took the elevator up and Harry let them into his apartment. It smelled like curry and Niall was hanging on the couch as they walked in.
Harry lifted his brows, “Hi. Seems like you’ve had a productive day.”
“Hey.” Niall greeted back, mouth full of food, “Well, didn’t have my usual study group so who can blame me.”
Mia offered Niall a small smile, “You’re welcome to join us in the library.” It earned her a little jab in the ribs from Harry, who shot her a look and shook his head, only making her smile wider. Niall grumbled something, “Nah, ‘s not really my scene. I prefer to study on the couch.”
Mia jumped up in surprise when the door flung open and Louis and Zayn walked in, both dressed in baggy clothing. Louis’ face lit up when he saw Mia, pulling her into a side hug. She clumsily fell into the affectionate gesture but felt relieved when the hands around her body disappeared again. Harry shot her a sympathetic smile and she dropped her shoulders again when relaxing.
She still wasn’t the best with unprepared physical contact, but she knew that the more she’d get to know Harry’s mates, the better it would get.
“Niall,” Zayn groaned, “you swore you’d tell us when the food arrived.”
Niall shrugged and Louis scoffed, “You’ve eaten like half our stuff! You little shit!”
Mia watched in amusement as the boys fought over dinner, while Harry was in his room grabbing a few things to spend the night. He packed his duffle bag with some extra underwear, toiletries and some clothes for tomorrow. He packed an extra jumper in case Mia wanted one of his again. He wouldn’t mind.
“Mia, are you not staying for dinner? I mean – we can order something else. Don’t think Niall’s left much.” Zayn chuckled as Harry exited his room. Mia sat down on the little pouf off to the side as she smiled at his offer and then shook her head, “Harry and I have plans, actually. But thank you.”
“You need to have dinner with us sometime.” Louis chimed in, snatching the food away from Niall and Zayn hummed in agreement. Mia straightened up and blushed a little, “A-Alright. Yeah. Okay.”
“C’mon, love.” Harry mumbled, swinging his duffle bag over his shoulder before waving at his friends, “See you guys tomorrow. Try not to kill one another.”
With Mia’s hand in his, they left again and strutted through the cold campus on their way into the city area. There was a piercing parlour not too far from campus and the guy said they could come in around six thirty as their last appointment of the day. Mia cuddled into Harry’s muscular arm while braving the December cold.
A few Christmas decorations had been put up around campus and it covered everything in a really festive glow. Mia loved it, constantly pointing out little details to Harry who swooned at her enthusiasm. He’d call her cute and smear his lips against hers in the middle of the street, which made Mia blush at their public display of affection.
Her and Harry didn’t brag about their relationship much at school. They got curious looks, from both students and teachers but didn’t do anything besides some hand holding and maybe a kiss on the cheek.
“Here it is.” Mia breathed as they stood in front of the little shop. It looked grungy and a little scary even, Mia had to admit. It was also a tattoo parlour so the windows were covered in pictures of tattoos, different sketches, doodles, varying from snakes with knives through them to dainty little flowers.
“Got a few tattoos done here a couple months ago.” Harry remembered with a nod before giving Mia’s hand a slight squeeze, “Let’s go in, ‘m freezing.”
They entered the shop together to be greeted by a tattooed and bearded man behind the registry. Mia awkwardly shuffled behind Harry a little. She had never felt so out of place anywhere ever before and she tightly clung to his hand, shying herself from the man behind the registry.
He probably thought she was so silly coming in here, looking like that. She peaked at him over Harry’s shoulder, noticing the friendly smile he shot her boyfriend. Harry nodded at him, “Hi, I called for an appointment earlier.”
“Yeah,” The man nodded, “Sinclair, right?” He checked his computer screen, “Got you up here for two piercings.”
“That’s right.” Harry confirmed, glancing at me over his shoulder with a reassuring nod, “My girlfriend would like a second piercing in her ear, like in the lobe. And I’d like to re-pierce my nose.”
The guy hummed and nodded, “Okay, sounds good. So, I’m Lyle, and I’ll be doing your piercings tonight. You guys can both fill out one of these forms, it’s pretty standard.” He pulled out two sheets and handed them to both Harry and Mia. She reluctantly accepted, pulling out her pink sparkly pen out of her own bag before her and Harry were hunched over the registry to fill it out.
It was questions like if she was allergic to anything, if she took any specific medication, if she was on blood thinners, and anything like that. Her and Harry filled it out in silence before he quickly scanned his eyes over hers. He basically knew these forms by heart, having them filled out a billion times for his tattoos before.
“Here you go.” He handed both their forms back to Lyle and he nodded, “Alright. Who wants to go first?”
Harry flicked his eyes to Mia, who pressed her lips together and shot him a look. Harry was about to open his mouth but Mia beat him to it, “Me.” She piped up. She got raised brows from Harry in return, surprise written over his face. She sighed out, “If you go first and I have to watch, I’ll never go through with it.”
He chuckled out, “Fair enough, love. Alright.”
“Okay, you can both come with me.” Lyle guided them through some hallways and into one of the rooms where there was a black table for them to lie on, along with more doodles and sketches littering the walls. Harry had his eyes trained in concentration on some of the tattoo designs while Mia slipped off her coat and was instructed to sit down on the table.
“Do I have to lie down?” She asked, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear.
Lyle shook his head with a gentle smile, “No, you don’t. You can just sit like that. Lobe piercings really don’t hurt, it’s a little sting and it heals quickly, doesn’t bleed a lot.”
Mia perked up a little bit, a tight-lipped smile on her lips, “Okay.”
“Have you decided which ear you’d like?” He asked, pulling a few things out. Mia subconsciously felt with her fingers to her ears, “Uh – left, I think.”
“Which side do you usually sleep on?”
Mia puckered her lips in thought until Harry stood by her side at the table, playing with the ends of her braid, “Right.” He answered.
“Perfect.” Lyle nodded. Mia smiled gently at Harry, who seemingly knew her better than she knew herself. She relaxed a little more into her seated position and her eyes widened when Lyle pulled up an array of little piercings, “You can pick one of these for me to put in. Take your time.”
“Wow.” She mumbled, letting her eyes dart over the many options. Harry peaked over her shoulders too, humming, “These are very pretty. They’d all look great on you.”
“This one’s really nice.” She stroked the tip of her finger over one of the little heart piercings and Harry hummed, “Really nice.” His eyes travelled over the range of little flower piercings too.
“Oh!” Mia exclaimed with a gasp and a grin, “Harry, there’s a little bumblebee piercing!”
He chuckled, “Yeah, there is.” He looked at the little silver bee piercing which Mia had her eye on, “I want that one.” She murmured.
“Have you picked one?” Lyle asked, putting gloves on his hands. Mia eagerly nodded, “Yes, I-I’d like the little bumblebee. Please.”
“Of course, great pick.”
“Thank you.” She blushed a little, smiling at Harry who nodded at her with pride in his eyes. He let his hand slip to her lower back, letting him feel he was here for her. Mia got instructed to put her hair fully behind her ear, and she straightened up as the her ear got disinfected.
“Okay, ‘m gonna put a little dot on where I think it’d look good. And you tell me if you like it there, yeah?” Lyle spoke. Mia nodded with her lip between her teeth, stifling a little giggle as the marker he used tickled her lobe. Harry kept his eyes on her adorable little smile, the excitement evident on her face.
Lyle handed her a mirror and the corners of Mia’s lips curled up as she looked at the little black dot next to the diamond stud and she flicked her eyes to Harry, “What do you think?”
He pressed his palm into her lower back, fighting the urge to kiss her right here. He licked his bottom lip, “Think it looks great, angel. How about you?”
“I like it.” She murmured, staring at the placement again before lowering the mirror, “Y-Yeah, that’s good.”
He nodded in appreciation before getting everything ready, “Alright. You can just sit up straight and tilt your head a little bit. ‘M gonna pull your lobe just a tad.”
Mia puffed out a breath and straightened up, Harry moving to her other side to gently hold her hands and play with her fingers as Lyle disinfected the area again and got the piercing ready, “It’s just gonna be a little sting and then it’s over, okay?”
“Okay.” Mia squeaked, squeezing Harry’s hands tightly until she felt the pressure on her lobe, the skin being pierced tightly by the device in Lyle’s hand, “There we go.” He mumbled.
Mia bit her tongue as she harshly gripped Harry’s fingers and he squeezed her hands back, “Doing good, Mia. It’s done already.” Harry smiled at her reassuringly. After the first sting subsided, Mia let out a breath and her lips widened in a smile, “It is?”
“Yeah.” Lyle confirmed, pulling back, “Just a second.”
Mia relaxed in the seat a little as Lyle cleaned her up a little bit with a cotton swab, the few little drops of blood being wiped away to leave her ear clean and crisp. He then handed her a mirror, “Here you go.”
“Oh my gosh.” Mia gasped with a beaming glimmer in her eyes, “It looks so good!”
Harry smiled and chuckled out, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek as Lyle had his back to them. Mia stared at her reddened and slightly swollen lobe, decorated with a little silver bumblebee piercing. She turned to Harry, “Harry, I love it.”
“I love it too.” He smiled, cheeks hurting from witnessing the excitement in Mia’s face. She giggled giddily before exhaling a breath, “Thank you so much.” She spoke to Lyle who offered her a gentle smile, “It’s fine, miss. I think you picked a nice one. Looks great.”
She beamed at the compliment and was then ordered to switch places with Harry. He was a lot less nervous than she was and didn’t necessarily need Mia to hold his hand, but she wanted to. Partly to be there for him, partly to distract herself from the dull throb in her lobe which had been violated by ramming a piercing through it.
“Are you okay?” Mia checked in all the time as Harry laid down on his back and Lyle shone a light on his nose to clearly see where the previous piercing hole was. Harry chuckled under his breath, “’M great, Mia. Don’t worry about me.”
“It’s not actually even closed all the way.” Lyle murmured, “So it’s basically gonna be me piercing the skin, but not your cartilage. So it’ll heal quickly.”
Harry nodded, “Okay, that’s great.”
“D’you want a hoop or a stud? Normally we do studs first but since it’s an old one that we’re redoing…”
Harry glanced at Mia, who nibbled her lip, “Hoop.” She softly murmured and Harry smirked before nodding, “Hoop it is.”
Barely a few minutes later, Harry’s right nostril had a little silver hoop in it, complimenting his already impeccable nose. His eyes had watered a little from the pressure but he was calm and breathing normally while Lyle cleaned up a little. Harry got a few more instructions on how to take care of his piercing since they still went through cartilage, but it didn’t bleed or hurt much.
Mia stared at him, in wonder of his strength to the point she forgot about her own pierced ear. Harry got back up, inspecting his old new piercing in the mirror with a grin on his lips. Mia was in disbelief of how himself he still looked. It was like the hoop fit straight into his face, hardly standing out against his skin.
“You like it?” He checked as Mia pulled her coat back on. She grinned and nibbled her lip before shyly nodding, “I love it.”
Harry hummed and quickly dipped his head to press a little kiss to her lips as Lyle was back up front at the cash register. Harry breathed her in, nudging his nose with hers and not caring how it burned where the hoop pierced him, “I love you.”
“I love you too.” She giggled, gently cupping his chin and tracing her thumb over the little dimple below his bottom lip. Both of them chuckled and headed out to pay what they owed Lyle. Mia declined when Harry offered to pay for her piercing and instead paid for his, giving him the nose ring as a little gift.
Harry was affectionate with her on their way back to her apartment, holding his arm around her shoulder and his duffle bag around the other. It had started snowing ever so slightly and Mia buried her cheek into Harry’s side as they walked the sidewalks and simultaneously discussed what they could have for dinner.
They eventually decided on home made pizza’s, something Hazel agreed with when they walked in. Hazel sat on the couch with some tea, immediately prompted to prepare some for Mia and Harry. Mia lit up when Hazel was around, and Harry loved to see her blossoming like this in the company of people she felt comfortable around.
Mia was a lot looser with Hazel than around his friends, and she proudly showed off her new piercing to Hazel, who gasped and doted over it. She hardly noticed Harry got his literal nose pierced, once more because the accessory just fit him so well and it wasn’t all that noticeable.
Mia pulled her braid out, Harry’s eyes trained on her as she ran her fingers through the length of her locks and then pulled it up in a high ponytail while pulling out the ingredients. He was fully mesmerized by her, hardly listening to Hazel as she told a story about her friend, Renan. Harry just hummed a little but blocked her out, keeping his eyes trained on Mia who moved through the kitchen in her leggings, fuzzy socks and his jumper on.
She had a concentrated look on her face while pushing on the buttons of the oven, huffing a little in frustration when she got the settings wrong.
She was adorable. She was love. Harry was so, so in love.
Mia was less shy with her affection when it was just Hazel around, and she joined in their conversation while standing behind him and wrapping her arms over his shoulders from her elevated position. Hazel fake gagged and Mia chuckled, kissing Harry’s temple as she rolled her eyes, “You’re so dramatic.” She chuckled.
“You two are disgusting.” Hazel complained and Harry laughed, “We’re not, we’re adorable.”
Hazel huffed, “Sure. Try not to be too adorable tonight, will you? I need my sleep, ‘m behind on my studying.”
Mia turned bright red at Hazel’s words as Harry sputtered out an involuntary laugh, “Fuck.”
“Oh my god.” Mia winced, burying her face in Harry’s neck from behind to hide her heated cheeks. Hazel took pleasure in teasing them, and about thirty minutes later they munched on selfmade pizza while playing a little card game. It was a little silly and made up, all three their brains tired after a full day of studying.
So when ten in the evening rolled around, Hazel started yawning and announced that she was going to bed. She and Mia cleaned up a little, insisting that Harry didn’t have to help which he felt a little bad about.
Eventually, Mia took his hand and guided him into her room too, Hazel’s door already closed for the night. Harry would always feel a thrill in his bones as he followed Mia into her bedroom, a crisp and clean space she invited him to.
They took time in the bathrooms, changing into their pyjamas and doing a little skincare before cleaning their piercings and brushing their teeth. Harry made funny faces at her through the mirror, his sleepy eyes wrinkling in laughter at her giggling, nearly drooling toothpaste as she clutched her belly at his joking.
“Do you want to watch something before we go to bed? I would really like you to give Grey’s Anatomy a go. I’m on like the sixth season and it’s so exciting, you’ll be caught up in no time.” Mia rambled as they entered her bedroom. Harry was behind her and closed the door, smirking at an oblivious Mia before he grabbed her hip and spun her around. She yelped slightly, her ponytail flying around before Harry needily pressed his lips on hers.
Mia lost her breath, legs weakening at the way his fingers tilted up her jaw and his other hand slipped towards her behind, grabbing a handful of her ass into his palm to squeeze, “Darling,” He breathed, “I love you and I’d love to watch that show with you, but I was really hoping I could have you tonight. Been thinking about it all day.”
His words made Mia’s confidence rise, and they pulled back, wet lips brushing together as she drew a breath, “Y-You have?”
“Yes.” He groaned softly, “Missed you so much this weekend.”
“How much?” She whispered. Harry smirked, lazily kissing her again and keeping her close, “Dirty girl.” He spoke, hardly audible and Mia wasn’t sure if she heard it correctly before he took another small breath, “Fucked my hand three times, thinking of you. That’s how much.”
A small moan escaped Mia’s lips and Harry chuckled in delight of her reaction, “Did y’miss me too?”
“Uh huh.” Mia nodded, feeling the bed behind her and with one little nudge of Harry’s hip, they both tumbled into the sheets. He was on top of her, t-shirts separating their bare bodies as Harry held her jaw and kissed the corner of her mouth, “How much?” He asked her own question back to her.
Mia bit her lip, wondering how on earth she could elaborate on the fact she tried to touch herself this weekend. For the first time. Like, on purpose. She was thinking of Harry and felt that warmth between her legs, which usually only happened when he was around her.
It got unbearable, so Mia snuggled under her covers and clenched her legs together, before sighing out in frustration and curiously touching herself. It didn’t feel nearly as good as when Harry did it, and she didn’t really get anywhere, but she… explored.
“Tell me.” He urged in a whisper, somehow already about to guess what was on her mind. But he needed to hear it from her. Mia swallowed thickly and avoided his eyes with a blush on her cheeks, “I-I… uh…”
“Did you touch yourself?” He asked softly, kissing her cheek. Mia’s leg bent a little around him as she found herself nodding, “Yes.”
“Holy fuck.” Harry cursed, pressing a wet kiss to her neck. She could feel him growing against her thigh, a twitch of his dick when he heard her confirmation of his little guess. Harry kissed her lips again, “That’s so hot.” He breathed, “What’d you do, hm, darling? Used your fingers?”
Mia’s heartrate picked up and she breathed in desperate air, “I t-tried.”
“Good girl.” Harry praised, “Didn’t feel good?”
She shook her head, “Not really.”
“Tell me, sweetheart… was your hand inside your panties? Or just rubbing yourself over them?”
“I-Inside.”
Harry grunted again as he rutted his hips forward, rubbing into her thigh as he choked out a breath, “Were y’wet?”
“Yes.” Mia breathed and Harry gripped her jaw tighter, “Fuck, Mia…” Harry pulled back with a dazed look in his eyes, licking his lips, “Are you wet right now?"
Her cheeks flamed up as she felt her stomach clenching together. She hadn’t noticed how tightly her hands were wound in his curls again as she swallowed and forced herself to nod, “Y-Yes.”
“Oh my god – shit.” With each word coming from her mouth, Harry had to recompose himself. He loved her so much, his body loved her so much. She was everything to him and he wanted to show her so badly.
“Can I feel? D’you want my fingers, darling? Can I touch you? O-Or my mouth?” He offered her, desperate, so desperate to feel her in any sort of way she allowed him. Mia bit her lip, her flush deepening as she felt Harry fitting his thigh between her legs to pleasure her a little bit.
It’s usually how they started out, Harry rubbing her with his thigh until Mia grew delirious and needed more. She was already so on edge now, stifling a moan at the pleasure radiating from between her legs when he pressed into her clit.
“Harry…” She breathed, arching her back. She wore a loose t-shirt, no bra with her nipples perk through the white fabric. Harry licked his lips and then leaned down, pressing his mouth over her hard nipple over her shirt.
He had yet to see her topless, somehow they hadn’t gotten to that yet. Mia gasped at the feeling of his tongue flicking her nipple and she shuddered, fisting his hair tighter, “M-Mouth.” She gasped out, “Please.”
Feeling his wet tongue on her chest, she had no doubt in her mind that his lips were what she craved where she needed him most. Her legs were trembling as Harry groaned and hummed, “Good girl. Want my mouth, that’s what you’ll have, sweetheart. Anything for you. Taste so fuckin’ delicious.” He murmured mindlessly while kissing over her throat.
His fingers played with the waistband of her shorts, tickling her hips as her tummy flipped in anticipation. She was in heaven. Harry hovering over her, giving her his undivided attention and wanting so badly to please her. This was her dream, this was everyone’s dream. Nothing could ever be better or more intimate than this.
Which is why Mia felt confident enough to open her mouth, “Can we try something?” She piped up. Maybe it was her rash decision of the day to get her ear pierced, or maybe it was just her growing comfort and confidence around her boyfriend, but Mia felt an urge to suggest something.
Harry lifted his head, hair tousled, cheeks pink and lips wet. He breathed in harsh puffs while nodding, "Of course, Mi. What’d you have in mind?” His heart was racing with the endless possibilities of what her words might be. Mia shyly glanced away, red rising up her neck as her chest heaved and she drew a breath, “C-Can I be on top?”
Harry felt like he was having a stroke. Mia stared up at him with round eyes, insecurity in her features and a shy blush on her body. His breath stuttered, his prick twitching against her thigh as he dropped his head to her clavicle, “Can y- oh, fuck… Oh my god, please. Yes.”
Mia fought her little smile as Harry quickly rolled them around. Her ponytail tickled his biceps as she hovered over him, his hand keeping her lips pressed to his as she parted her legs around his to straddle him. Mia had always enjoyed being in Harry’s lap or having the upper hand. No matter how comforting the weight of him felt on top of her, she did enjoy the elevated position.
“You’re going to ride my face,” He breathed against her lips, “fuck, this is the best day of my life.”
Mia giggled, “Harry…” And he chuckled back while shaking his head, “No, I’ve dreamt about this, about having you like this. You’re a god damn dream, Mia.”
They shared a loving kiss before Harry reached behind him to slip off his shirt. He pulled at the edges of her shorts, raising them up her hips more to show off the shape of her split thighs and his fingers danced around the curve of her ass.
Grinding for a little bit, Harry had to stop her before he exploded in his shorts. He dropped down his back as Mia shyly glanced over him. Harry popped himself back up on his elbows, “Take off your shorts and panties, sweetheart.”
Mia fought for air as she clumsily slipped out of her bottoms. Her shirt covered her up slightly still as she nervously sat on top of Harry. His eyes devoured her, hands on her bare hips and sliding down her thighs, “Good girl, doing so good.” He rasped out. He licked his lips over and over again, urging Mia to scoot up his chest.
Her legs split wider to fit him between, shirt riding up a little. Harry kept his eyes on hers, keeping her comfortable as Mia had her lip fit between her teeth and slowly made her way up until she was level with his face. Harry salivated, kneading her thighs, “Fuck.” He couldn’t help the curse slipping from his lips.
Mia tentatively rested her hands on the top bar of her headboard and Harry shifted her ever so slightly, “Keep looking at me, Mia.” He ordered. She softly nodded, gripping the headboard tightly and keeping her eyes locked on his dark green ones. Harry tugged her down, her mouth parting in a gasp when his tongue slipped between her saturated folds.
She watched as Harry’s jaw tensed, she watched as his eyes fluttered shut, rolling back at her taste. He moaned against her, vibrations hitting her clit when he reached her pulsing pearl and gave it a cursory suck, making Mia gasp harder.
“Oh god,” Mia whimpered when he swirled his tongue lower, messily spreading her slickness around, “Harry.” She threw her head back, pushing her t-shirt covered boobs out and Harry gripped her ass cheeks harder. He groaned with a deep frown, pulling back with his lips saturated in her arousal, “Mia,” He breathed, “eyes on me.”
Mia forced her eyes open, curving her back again to stare down between her legs. The sight of Harry laying below her with a wet mouth and hungry eyes, made her tremble. He nipped her thigh, “Don’t take your eyes off of me. And sit down, c’mon.” He urged her.
Mia bit her lip, “I-I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Mia.” Harry’s voice was more stern, his hand tapping her ass in more of a sharp little slap. Her eyes widened at the touch, warm palm immediately soothing it after as he shot her some sort of a glare, “Fuckin’ sit down on my tongue.”
He pulled her down on him harshly, and Mia’s legs gave way a little as she sunk down on his mouth. She bit down hard on her lip to keep from being too loud, knuckles turning white from curling tightly around the headboard.
Her toes curled along with it as she fought to keep her eyes open and on Harry. He locked his arms around her thighs to keep her anchored on top of him, and Mia couldn’t stop anymore before she moved herself back against him.
Harry bent his legs, wishing he could touch himself as he witnessed his shy little Mia fucking herself on his mouth. Harry sucked her clit between his lips, licking in pulses as she gasped and exhaled softened whimpers of his name. Her pelvis rocked against his mouth in the rhythm of his delicious flicks.
Mia’s eyes glazed over in pure pleasure as she moaned through her teeth, brows scrunched up in bliss. Harry pulled back for air, panting out against her clit that he gave a little flick, “Scoot forward a little, sweetheart.” He instructed before groaning to himself, “Fuck, can’t wait to feel you sittin’ on my cock like that.”
Mia harshly breathed as she blindly nodded at his words, scooting slightly forward. Harry’s mouth disappeared from sight but his eyes crinkled in a smirk before she felt the tip of his tongue against her weeping hole.
“Relax.” He murmured, bringing his hand between them to press his thumb over her clit to rub little circles. Mia melted into putty and nodded, “O-Okay.” She tried to do as Harry asked, relaxing. She untensed her muscles, Harry humming in approval. He applied a little more pressure to her clit, pushing tongue deeper inside of her.
It was stretching her. Where he had only pushed one slender finger inside of her previously, his tongue was quite a bit thicker and wider. Harry flexed the muscle, letting it disappear fully inside of her before flicking.
Mia shuddered, hips starting up their rocking again while Harry started a thrusting motion – fucking her with his tongue. With the continuous circles on her slicked bundle of nerves, Mia was on the edge of an orgasm in no time.
Her one hand moved flat against the wall, pressing against it to hold herself up. She hadn’t really considered the hardships of this position, and how her legs would be sore and how she was supposed to keep herself upright. She couldn’t help it when her eyes closed and she tossed her head back.
Harry didn’t spank her for it this time, keeping his tongue buried deep between her walls while flicking her clit until she gasped in a whiny breath and she clenched around the tip of his tongue. He lapped at her, moaning as she released in an intense, convulsing orgasm. Her clit pulsed as he kept his tongue against her while Mia struggled to hold herself up and have a clear thought.
His hands kneaded her ass cheeks as Mia trembled and Harry eventually pulled back, using the muscles of his arms to gently pull Mia away and let her fall down on her back next to him on the mattress.
He was so fucking hungry for her, immediately rolling on top of her while she dazedly blinked at him with pink cheeks. His lips found hers easily, smearing together as he pushed his tongue out to roll around with hers. His salacious hand didn’t give her a break, slipping between their bodies.
Mia gasped against his lips when he pushed a finger inside of her and curled up into her still throbbing g-spot.
“Harry!” She cried, back arching out as her legs spasmed in an aftershock of her orgasm that Harry seemingly tried to drag out. Mia’s head got thrown back as he groaned into her neck, stroking the tip of his finger into her front wall. She tightly fisted his hair, writhing away from him, “T-Too much!” She choked out, “Too much.”
Harry grunted and tapped her g-spot once more before pulling his finger out. He wondered how far he could push her if she let him, but he respected her boundaries and decided to properly let her come down from her orgasm that he could still taste. Harry pulled back, catching his breaths as he hovered over a half-naked Mia on her bed.
His hard cock strained against his shorts, pressed between Mia’s legs to still tease her a little even if she was so sensitive. They exchanged heated little kisses until Harry dragged his wet finger up her jaw, tracing it over her bottom lip to make it glisten in her own arousal.
He felt so filthy, unable to stop all his urges this time – like had succeeded in so many times. Mia felt breathless with Harry like this, but it excited her to no end. She wanted him so much and felt on a sparkly pink cloud after that orgasm. He always managed to make her feel so good, to take such good care of her.
They maybe moved slow, but it was so satisfying. Mia kept the eye contact as she darted her tongue out, wrapping her lips softly around the tip of Harry’s finger that had been inside of her earlier. His jaw slacked softly when he watched, Mia sucking his finger deeper.
She tasted herself on him, finger pressing down her tongue.
Harry wasn’t sure how he was going to survive her. At all. He felt ready to just about die when she hollowed out her cheeks around his digit, sucking on his finger like she would his cock. He could only imagine her with his dick fitted between her lips with that wet tongue sliding around.
“Fuck, Mia,” Harry gasped, “can I – fuck, please…”
She popped off his finger as Harry used his other hand to quickly yank his shorts down. He pushed up his knees slightly to keep his weight off of her. His hand quickly closed around his shaft, painfully hard. His knees spread her legs, and he stared down the length of her body, seeing her bare pussy spread for him, still wet with her orgasm.
He wanted to lean down and lick her up, get drunk on her taste over and over again. Drive her crazy, make her melt, make her scream his name, make her pull his hair, make her so confident she’d bounce on his cock one day.
Mia dragged her foot up his calf as Harry harshly tugged on himself in rapid, tight strokes like he’d imagine her pussy to feel. God, he couldn’t wait to have her. She’d be fucking magical, he just knew it.
“Mia,” He moaned, “I love you so much.” With his finger in her mouth, her hands on his legs and his hand on himself, Harry felt the beginning of his orgasm. He searched her face for approval, and she kept sucking on his finger while nodding – silently allowing him to finish. Harry hovered over her, pink lips opened up in a deep gasp as his entire body tensed and flexed.
“Oh my god.” He choked out, eyes rolling back no matter how hard he tried to focus on Mia. She blurred in front of him as his ears rang and his orgasm spurted out of him, landing on her thighs and the hitched up shirt.
Harry shuddered, “Shit, you always make me c-cum so fucking hard.” He whimpered out. Mia moved her fingertips up his sides, feeling the ridges of his tight muscles as he came down from his orgasm. Drops of cum leaked from him and onto her skin as Harry’s vision returned.
He felt floaty, completely floaty. He wanted to be wrapped up into her arms and sleep for a few hours, just inhaling her scent as she kissed his forehead.
“Oh my god.” Harry sighed out, blinking his eyes open and finding Mia intently staring at him. She had a small smile on her lips, softness and love in her eyes. Harry mimicked her stare and breathed out a chuckle, “Hey.”
“Hmm, hi.” Mia murmured back with a little, lazy smile. It was a look Harry didn’t often see on her. He stayed hovered over her as he quickly leaned down to take her in a small kiss, “Was that good?”
“So good.” Mia confirmed, nibbling her lip, “so good.”
“Can I clean you up?” Harry asked in another moment of lust and hunger, a fire for her that appeared to be unable to be dosed. Mia nodded softly, assuming Harry meant he’d get up and grab some tissues or a towel, but Harry smirked at her and leaned down.
Mia’s lips parted when she felt his lips on her hip and she lifted her head in time to see Harry licking up his release. He kept his eyes on hers, eyeing her reaction. Mia blushed when Harry licked up his own orgasm, tongue moving around her skin to clean her.
She bit her lip, up on her elbows as she watched him, “H-How does it taste?” She timidly asked. Harry chuckled, “D’you want to try?”
Mia hesitated before reaching her finger out, ready to scoop up maybe a little dollop to try. She felt confident, happy, easy here. With Harry, none of this really seemed strange or stupid. It was intimate, how they explored one another.
She learned his body and her own, and he did too. And she loved exploring him, but she also loved exploring herself.
Harry snatched her finger though before she could reach any of his release on her tummy. He shook his head, “Not like that. Lie back, sweetheart.”
Mia felt confused and paused for a second before doing as Harry instructed her to, laying back down. She had been following his orders all night and didn’t mind doing so. He was the more confident one, and she was glad that he took the lead and guided her through everything but still respected her pace and boundaries.
Mia laid on her back as she felt Harry’s tongue licking next to her belly button before he hovered over her.
His face came over hers, and she stared at him with a small confused frown. Harry’s eyes dropped to her lips and Mia felt her heart beating violently before she drew a sharp little breath and hesitantly parted her lips a little wider.
Harry hummed with closed lips and Mia opened up a little more, shyly pushing out her tongue. Harry watched as she struggled with figuring out what he wanted her to do, but he didn’t mind. Her cheeks were hot pink when she laid under him with an open mouth and her tongue on display. He gently stroked through her hair once, the ponytail mostly undone at this point.
Harry’s lips puckered and Mia felt fresh heat coiling up in her tummy when he let a line of cum fall from his mouth to hers. It pooled on her tongue as they maintained eye contact, and Harry swore he was about to get hard again. He was spitting his cum back into Mia’s mouth after licking it off of her.
This was heaven, Harry was sure.
Mia swallowed whatever Harry dropped on her tongue, not sure what to make of the taste. It was salty and just slightly slimy texture-wise. She didn’t have much time to think when he guided her through a deep, lingering kiss that clouded up her brain again. They rolled around the bed a little, him without a shirt and her without any bottoms on.
It was moments later Mia shyly climbed off of the bed to go clean up. Harry teased her about her bare butt and Mia tried to shoot him a glare, but her playful smile gave it away.
With her panties on and just the shirt she hurried into the bathroom to clean a little and wash her hands. She checked her piercing again and did her hair in a bit of a tighter braid to make sure not all of it got stuck in Harry’s mouth during the night.
Padding back into the bedroom, Harry was scrolling on his phone but put it down when Mia walked in. He smiled and opened up her side of the bed to climb into, which she giddily did.
“Can you spoon me?” She whispered once they were engulfed in the darkness of her bedroom. Harry’s hand was on the full of her thigh, pulling her into him as she stroked her fingers up his back. Harry’s lips rested softly against her forehead, “Don’t you need to sleep on your right side?”
Mia’s eyes widened, “Oh my god.”
Harry chuckled and Mia pouted with a little protesting groan, “So you won’t be able to spoon me until this piercing heals?”
He anchored her thigh higher over his hips, “That’s right. But we can still cuddle, m’love.”
Mia hummed, “I’m tired.”
“Me too.” Harry yawned, “We should go to sleep.”
“Another day of studying tomorrow.” Mia sighed and Harry hummed this time, “I know. You did good today, Mia.”
She nibbled her lip, “Not really. I’m a little behind.”
Harry pulled her a little further into his chest, “Well, then we’ll sleep now so you’re nice and fresh tomorrow morning. I’ll wake you up with some coffee and we can go to the library all day. You’ve still got another week.”
Mia knew this, and she nodded at his words, “Yeah.”
It was about to be her first exam period as a uni student. She had one week left and then two weeks of tests before Christmas arrived. Her and Harry had yet to discuss how they were going to spend it.
“I mean it,” Harry sleepily murmured, pulling her even closer into him which is what he always did when falling asleep, holding her as tight as possible, “’m proud of you.”
Mia smiled into his neck, “I’m proud of you too, Harry. I love you.”
➯ HARRY EXPERIENCES THE BIGGEST LOSS OF HIS CAREER BUT HIS BEST FRIEND IS ALWAYS THERE TO SOFTEN THE BLOW.
✰ rugby!harry friends to lovers. minor warnings for somnophilia. heavy descriptions of size kink and harry being bigger than reader. minors dni.
𝑤𝑐 5.2k
ッ converted masterlist
Y/N watches from the sidelines, eyes ping-ponging to each side of the pitch as the ball makes its way back and forth, back and forth. Her lungs beg for fresh oxygen that she won’t grant them. France’s full-back pellets the ball high up into the air, straight into the arms of England’s full-back, England’s full-back wallops it back to France’s full-back. Y/N’s skin fucking burns with impatience—could someone just play the ball? Her gaze flits over the broad numbers littering the field… three—grass stains streaking across white—eight, twelve—blood streaming down temples—eleven, nine… Ten.
Harry hangs back, intense, focused eyes following every movement of the ball; just like Y/N, only with pinpoint accuracy. He’s the decision maker of the team, the fly-half—the player that sets up most of the scores, who guides the play. One of the most important pieces of the puzzle and… he’s frazzled, Y/N can tell. By the slight mania in his widened eyes and the frantic point he stresses towards the other side of the pitch, desperate for his teammates to attack—to get some phases going, some passes—anything other than kick tennis.
France have had the upperhand all game. They’re the favourites, after all, and playing at their home ground—but this is the final game of the Six Nations. This is the win England need to set them up for the World Cup.
And they’re losing. They’ve been losing since the second minute when France scored a try from their own twenty two—their lightning fast winger weaving in and out of all of England’s defence to dive over the line—leaving his electric trail in a bolt behind him.
And now it’s the seventy eighth minute and France are two points ahead. Y/N knows why Harry is signalling so passionately—he is desperate to get the ball further down the opponent’s end of the field. If not to score then to force them to make an error, to give away a penalty. Anything to secure the win in the final two minutes.
She is practically barking orders at the players herself—only quietly under her breath instead of the way she is sure Harry is shouting. Every technique, every tactic—Y/N has observed them all. She knows that the clock ticks twice as fast in the final moments of a game. She knows that Harry’s close to losing control of the match completely—of losing that chance of evening the scoreline—and her heart is beating out of her chest watching it all unfold.
The ball finally makes its way into a player’s hands for more than two seconds. France don’t kick it away; their number nine makes a run for it—determined to end the game with an extra score on the board. He executes a dummy pass, feigning to throw the ball to his teammate and successfully losing England’s own nine that slips in the grass in his attempt to mark. Disarmingly quick for a small player, he gets all the way to the halfway line before being tackled.
And this… this is when everything changes. Y/N shoots up from her seat when he goes down—piled upon by white jerseys desperate to rip the ball right out of his hands. She holds her breath as he stays on the floor, can’t find the ball within the chaos—flits her eyes over to Harry who is standing in formation with the rest of the backs. His mouth moves a million miles a second, expression rampant, arms flailing as he screams at his players.
Just a little longer, just a little longer… “Come on, ref,” Y/N mutters under her breath, “blow the fucking whistle.” She watches the man in red do just that—bring the whistle up to his lips in a rapid motion, throwing his arm up in the air to favour England.
A penalty. In the final minute. For England.
The stadium goes up in a cacophony of roars. Furious French moans drowned out by the deafening screams of the English. A rivalry as old as time goes down to the wire once again. Y/N’s heart pounds away inside of her ribs—hardly able to process the sight of Harry and his team celebrating—the relieved clenching of his fists.
Waterboys rush onto the pitch, slinging the kicking tee to Harry’s awaiting palms. Time continues to pass—the clock sure to enter the red before he’s made contact with the ball that he meticulously balances at the perfect angle. Y/N has watched Harry perform a thousand kicks and yet nothing will ever quell the gut-churning anxiety she feels during these moments in a match. To witness the mass of eighty thousand people reduced to murmurs as Please respect the kicker appears on every screen in sight. To watch Harry, his routine—because every fly-half has one—the way he eyes up the ball, angles himself, blocks out the world around him to draw that invisible line from the ball to the posts… it's an honour and a damnation.
And Y/N is always nervous to watch him kick, but right now, her body feels as though it might start emanating electricity. Harry’s a near perfect shot. His success rate is one of the highest in the game—past and present—but… This angle is, for lack of a better word, fucked. He’s practically kissing the touchline, ball facing a direction you would not expect to be the correct one. But Harry prepares himself, positioned with the posts nearly behind him, ready to curve it just right.
Then he kicks it—he boots it as all kickers do. And it bends. It curves in the air, slicing through it like soft, melted butter. Y/N goes deathly still—time slows down—she’s only half-aware of the screens showing the clock tick over to red. The ball soars, heading straight for the posts, it glides like it has fucking wings—
And then it collides heavily against the left post and bounces back into play. Straight into French hands.
He’s missed. He’s—missed. Y/N’s exhale comes out as some sort of wet exasperation, hands flying to cover her cheek in pure disbelief. No. The stadium cries out so loudly she can hardly hear herself think. All she can see is Harry. The way he crouches down and pinches the bridge of his nose as France kicks the ball out of play and the referee blows the final whistle.
It’s over. All those weeks, all those games, all that fighting. Just to lose it on the last kick of the game. Y/N can’t believe her eyes.
“You’ve got this, Harry. You’ve got this. Don’t even worry. Y’the best England have seen since Farrell.”
She betrayed him by encouraging such a statement, she’s sure (despite the fact of it). Maybe it got to him; the pressure. The kind of pressure Y/N hoped would be helpful. The truth being that he is the best player they have right now. He’s breaking records, he’s setting new standards, he is the bright, shining new star. But maybe that’s too much to place on a person’s shoulders. Even on the breadth of Harry’s.
The pitch starts hurtling closer and it’s only then that Y/N processes the speed in which her legs are stampeding towards Harry. She can’t get at all as close as she yearns to be—reaching the edge of the box with an aching chest. Not with anger, not with disappointment. With sadness for her friend, for her best friend. Tonight was supposed to be a celebration, a night of euphoria and drunkenness and laughter.
All Y/N can see is Harry’s sullen face as his teammate hauls him up and slaps him heavily on the back—no gentility from the hardness of a rugby player. The teams shake hands and France take a victory lap around the pitch, celebrating with fans whilst the award podium is set up. All Y/N wants to do is get to Harry but England have to stand there and watch France lift the trophy. She glances at it now with disdain.
It’s always a struggle to find Harry after a match—sometimes he’s got press to do, sometimes he’s being ushered into the changing rooms, sometimes he strolls around the pitch with his team, taking photos with fans. Y/N always waits, always watches with stars in her eyes. Nothing ever quite matches the rapid beat of her heart when she gets to observe him in his element; after a win.
But today they’ve lost. And today, Harry doesn’t linger. He doesn’t even let himself get pulled aside for pitchside interviews—lucky that the captain is hounded first. Y/N can already see the headlines. Styles Sulks After Shattering Six Nations Defeat. His hands clapping for France but the line of his mouth hard and the sheen of his eyes glossed over. She knows the noise all fades into the background for him, his mind is elsewhere—body desperate to join.
Her own knows the feeling; too far away from him to relax as their magnetic forces pull towards one another. Keeping her feet planted firmly on the ground is a hard task, when the only focused object in her vision is the outline of Harry. And as soon as he makes that first step towards the tunnel, she’ll make sure to run through anyone who stands in her way.
Getting to Harry’s hotel room proves harder than it should be. Y/N had wasted her time looking for him anywhere else—of course he wouldn’t have wanted to go to an afterparty. To celebrate what? A crushing loss? France’s pilfering victory? Entering a room as Harry Styles might as well be the equivalent of shitting on a plate and offering it around like some kind of hors d'oeuvres. Charm is usually his specialty but it’s no surprise that he chose to hide himself away as soon as the opportunity arose—to take back what little control he has over today and deny prying eyes passing judgement where he can see them.
She thinks, for a moment, that he’s not going to answer the door and her sympathy nearly bubbles into misguided anger before she alters its path. She is so frantic to reach him that it feels like a waste of time to stand still for even a second. But the soft padding of socked feet against carpet sounds from behind the thick wood, and the click of a lock as the door gives way to reveal the image of a forlorn Harry.
He’s so tall, and so broad, and his personality is larger than life—but right now… Right now, Harry looks small. His shoulders weigh heavy and his posture slumps forward, and despite the fact of his towering height, Y/N doesn’t feel so dwarfed in his presence right now. Neither of them say anything; both waiting for the other to speak up first but neither does. Y/N just stands there… in the hallway, suspended in a moment, looking at Harry with sad eyes as his fingers linger on the door handle.
And then she throws her arms around his hulking shoulders and feels his chest deflate against her own expanding one, as she breathes, “I’m sorry, Harry.”
He doesn’t reply—what is there to say? Nothing positive or optimistic, only bashes to his performance, his ability as a player. Instead, he curls his arms around her back; an immediate solace to breathe in the wash of her scent, the soft of her hair as he buries his nose against her crown. His biceps squeeze around her, compressing the bones in her body with a heavenly kind of weight. Small in his arms but big enough to provide comfort. Always the biggest part of his heart, the place he goes to for relief.
Every exhale against her head bleeds warmly into her scalp, seeping down to her toes and regulating her heartbeat. Weightlessness is a common feeling in the presence of Harry, more often physically than not, as he pulls her off the tips of her toes and carries their embrace to the foot of the hotel bed. The door clicking shut serves as a reminder of the outside world; of time continuing to tick away despite the silence that blankets the room they’re in. Y/N removes her hands from Harry’s nape as he sits down, his own paws lingering on the plush of her hips. His eyes are sad, tired, embarrassed. Y/N doesn’t recognise him like this.
“Kev is gonna kill me,” Harry laughs with exasperation, a hand dragging itself down his face. It’s not often that he finds himself on coach’s bad side—he’s not sure he ever really has. He’s well disciplined, a little too cheeky sometimes, perhaps, but manages to ride the line with ease. He works hard, he trains hard, he respects the game and lives to improve with every new day. (Y/N once joked that Harry would struggle getting on the bad side of a wasp; could charm his way out of a potential sting without breaking a sweat.)
She breathes softly, fingertips carding through freshly washed hair; a shower the only thing he could force himself to do after the loss. “Kevin is not going to kill you. You’re his best player.”
It’s hard not to let his sigh turn into a moan with the way she handles him with such tenderness. There’s no fight, none at all, when he closes his eyes and lets her scratch his scalp. “Not supposed to sulk about it. Got t’get up and move on. Prepare for the next thing.”
A gentle tug at the back of his head, not painful, but stern. He looks up at her figure between his legs. “Harry, you can be upset, it’s okay.”
“Can’t be grumpy tomorrow.”
“Just for tonight then.”
It works. He huffs, “I fuckin’—” falling backwards and pulling Y/N’s body with him. She holds back her affronted squeal, palms landing on either side of his shoulders. “—ruined it for everyone.”
“No you did not.” It’s not fair to berate him but Y/N has never been one to allow self-deprecation. That was reserved for herself, and herself only. Her palm meets his chest lightly as she frowns, “You didn’t ruin anything, are you kidding? You kept that match alive.”
“And then I bottled it! Right at the bloody end.”
Her smile is sad; wishing for thaumaturgy to run through her veins—or the ability to turn back time. “And next time the posts won’t get in the way.”
“Hm. Not funny. Might not even be a next time. I’ll probably get dropped for this.”
“No, you won’t, don’t be silly. If everyone got dropped for a single mistake, you’d have no fucking players left.”
It falls silent for a while, their embrace a steady rising and falling of chests—like a dingy floating down a lazy river. Harry strokes up and down her back, as though she’s the one that needs reassurance. It feels nice all the same. The only thing Y/N can do is let her weight settle atop of his hefty body, trying to breathe as deeply as her lungs can manage in hopes that Harry’s heart will mirror. Of course, she’s kidding herself into believing she is any sort of definition of calm, but her mind hasn’t quite caught up yet. Maybe it’s the humidity that forces the catch of her breath as Harry shifts beneath her—maybe it’s the pollen count. Probably the pollen count.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he murmurs after a moment, mindless hands fidgeting amongst her clothes. The layers she’d meticulously arranged to combat the brandishing winds have untucked themselves from the denim of her jeans. Harry’s fingers slip underneath and brush against the silken skin of her waist. He sighs, speaking once more before Y/N can hum her agreement, “You’re so soft.”
There are unspoken lines in relationships, right? Boundaries, expectations, societal normalities. Y/N has lost count over the years, how often herself and Harry have been mistaken for a couple. It alludes to something deeper than neither of the two have ever addressed. And the line… it’s never been crossed but that doesn’t mean it hasn’t been toed upon. The waters aren’t as cold as they’ve been before. Y/N’s cheeks warm with the comfort of hiding in her best friend’s chest. The things he says always make her skin thrum with unbridled energy; there’s just something about the way he wields words that has her feeling special. But she hides it with great effort; yearns to maintain a cooler front, perhaps to match her counterpart and appear a worthy equal beside Harry’s coveted self. Being described as soft isn’t an inherently romantic thing—it’s simply a statement—but Harry hums it so freely, like her softness is the salve for all of his cuts and scrapes. The delicacy of a girl, his girl, it’s enough to plaster over the disappointment of his day, because bigger things matter more.
In moments like these, Y/N could reply with a myriad of things. She sure as hell hears a million and one of them pinging around her head. Maybe she’s cowardly, or maybe she’s sensible—she adopts a jibing approach, “It helps not to roll yourself around a muddy field every day.”
“Charming. We’re not pigs, you little shit.” She makes him laugh, a huffed exhale, but a humoured noise nonetheless. Her lips curl up into his neck and she pretends that he’s happy for just a moment.
When the lull of silence passes and Harry starts to shuffle beneath her, a sense of panic morphs to desperate distraction—not too dissimilar to the reaction of an overworked mother catching her toddler on the verge of bouncing its wails off the walls like some twisted sort of hyena mimicry—she waves a brightly coloured toy in front of his face, equipped with all kinds of bells and whistles.
His pecs indent with the pads of her fingers as she pushes herself up and plasters on an exaggerated grin that can only preface mischief, wiggling her eyebrows, “Want a massage?” ever the unalluring as her drawl tiptoes into the boundaries of offensively inaccurate Northern, “Hm? Free of charge.”
A blip of relief radiates through Y/N’s chest like the echo of a submarine when the corners of Harry’s mouth twitch upwards; in response to the sudden animation of her movements or the laxation that comes promised with her proposition, she’s not sure. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth as he hums, neck propped up lazily by the palm of his hand, “They’re all free of charge.”
She runs with this fragment of a game—practically bullies herself into a sprint as she nods, “You should be grateful I’m not charging you by the minute. I studied for years.”
She did study for years, and Harry’s never been more grateful for it—selfishly cashing in all the massages he can get. “And look—”
“Roll over—” she hoists her hips up to alleviate her weight, off of his body so he can do as she says and shuffle onto his front.
“—Where you’ve ended up.” It’s a self-deprecating thought, not one to banter or jibe, despite being disguised as such. Holed up in lacklustre Room 143, frittering time away with a subpar athlete. Harry’s lucky she’s here lest he dig himself into an even deeper hole.
“I know…” her sigh is light, completely oblivious to Harry’s thoughts only a mere skull’s width away, “so tragic.”
It’s quiet again after that, the vacant hotel air perforated with an occasional thick exhale from Harry’s pouting mouth as Y/N’s hands work through knots and kinks over the breadth of his back. He tries to fight sleep but she presses in harder, just shy of too hard, just enough to melt the taut into goo. When those breaths start coating themselves in gravel, the air catching on his larynx on its way out, and salaciously undiluted hums turn to feathery grunts—Y/N feels smug when she does that to a person—especially when it’s Harry.
Y/N doesn’t have to ask what he wants when she orders room service. Five years of friendship lends itself to the memorisation of eating habits. He’s tired after the massage, muscles heavy and bones squishy, when her efforts to scoot him towards the headboard proved impossibly strenuous. It’s caught up with him like a wave crashing to the shore—all-consuming; submerging. Harry drowns in it entirely, can barely keep his eyes open long enough to shovel his cheat dinner into his mouth. The TV ends up screening old reruns of Friends. Y/N can tell Harry’s clocked out—mind traversing the depths of his insecurities—and it tugs her lips downwards to know she can’t distract him. Not even acting along to their favourite scene makes the smile reach his eyes. She unfocuses her own just to pretend she’s seeing what he is—the blur of the television, colours melting together in kaleidoscope swirls. Ross’ forlorn Hi pulls her out of it.
She feels bad for projecting; for expecting or hoping him to be okay. Of course, he’s not going to be okay. Okay is waking up on a Monday morning with time to buy yourself a treat for lunch before heading into your dreary office job. Harry’s not even knocking on the door of Oh-Kay. But it’s a useless feeling—to be witnessing misery so candidly with nothing worthwhile to offer as a fix. Then she looks over at him, prompted by a thick rumble, and it all goes quiet inside her head for a moment. He’s asleep—plate resting precariously over his lap. The waves catch up to her too, brows smoothing out to mirror the peace of Harry’s expression, and she knows it's time for bed.
Everything seems so much louder when you’re trying to be quiet. Y/N experiences that tenfold in the en-suite bathroom. Her toothbrush vibrates too hard, the water splashes too violently, the cap of her cleanser is obnoxious when it clicks shut. Harry peeks an eye open when she settles atop the covers once again; rosy notes clinging to the full of her soft cheeks, glowing in the soft vibrance of the bedside lamp she’d leant over his chest to click on. There’s no guilt on his face that might suggest he’s been awake for a while, and the rumble of his voice solidifies Y/N’s panic of disrupting his sleep.
“Sorry,” she winces, adjusting her bare knees on top of the sheets. Harry’s sleepy eyes flit down to the hem of her shorts brushing against the plush of her thighs. Then he shrugs a shoulder and extends his arm, beckoning her forward with a curl of his fingers. “Come on. Need a cuddle.”
And Y/N falls into him easily—head tucked beneath his chin, open palm smoothing over his heart, just like that—as they both ignore the intimacy of their embrace.
Parisian sunlight doesn’t filter past Y/N’s eyelids when they twitch awake, fluttering open less than elegantly. The stitches of memories sew themselves back together piecemeal—too slowly to find it questionable—the caress of soft pads across the puff of her cheek. She thinks she grunts.
It’s the moon that shows her. The silhouette of wide shoulders and a sloping neck; the sheer curtain enveloped with gentle pockets of wind that slip through the open window, billowing inwards. It pools across the carpet; cool moonlight, casting an unearthly glow along the bicep that reaches out.
Harry’s thumb brushes the girl’s feathery lashes, ducking beneath her undereye to stroke the skin there. It’s such a gentle awakening that Y/N feels heavy—half awake and half still dreaming—still floating through the clouds of her imagination. Weights tug her eyes shut again.
“Didn’t mean to wake you,” a quiet murmur, not quite a whisper, the edges grisly but well-intentioned.
“...What time ‘s it?” The pillow sinks in further, weighted with the nuzzle of a nose and an overt inhale. Seasalt and sandalwood, from a little blue bottle—travel size—bathing the cotton covers and tucking Y/N safely into cushions of secure muscle and warm skin.
“Not sure, go back t’sleep.”
Just enough of the day before creeps into the periphery of her consciousness, forcing the sleep away with an obvious disgruntled twitch. “Are you okay?”
Harry supplies a hum, noncommittal and faraway—too engrossed in the trail of his thumb against her cheek to provide much more. “What‘re you doing?” She whines, fighting the curl of her mouth with the principle of her pilfered slumber. Each nerve ending he passes over leaves bumps in his wake in an endearing betrayal.
“Don’t move,” he tuts when she wriggles her head some—ticklish. “I was thinking…” and if Y/N were less catatonic she’d quip something predictable to earn an answering pinch, “thinking that I’m really glad you’re here.” It’s a saving grace that her tongue lays heavy behind her lips. Harry’s timbre slicks itself over her, satiny like silk. Sincerity isn’t their forte most of the time. It makes her stiffen, anticipating what comes next.
“I really love you.”
The weight behind his words should be more startling—a stumble during an elegant figure skating routine—but it glides over the ice with ease, buttery and smooth. Y/N feels herself slipping under the cotton wool covers of unconsciousness with these words, a tiny smile evidence enough for Harry that she heard him, understood him. What might encourage a pregnant pause in the afternoon light, coaxes her back to sleep in the predawn.
It’s a sentiment untold, bearing new significance in the whisperings between sheets. His hotel room, now a honeymoon suite, perhaps—with promises of romantic views and crisp, white palettes bouncing light from wall to wall. Too much room for a newly wedded couple but grand in gesture and boundless in memory.
Only they’re not even lovers, let alone united in matrimony, and no newfound intimacy comes without question. But it’s two in the morning, or three, or four, and this all feels like some sort of beautiful dream—weightless—venturing beyond imagination. Maybe Y/N is dreaming, maybe she’s conquered the intricacies of lucid dreaming, maybe that’s why it isn’t scary to hear. Because it’s not entirely true.
But it’s hard to imagine, to fabricate the pressing of lips against the corner of her mouth and the soft plumes of air tickling her cheek. And it’s even harder when those same lips knit themselves over her hairline and a winding forearm pulls her in closer into a grounding embrace. She falls asleep again before her brain can whir up enough to provide conclusion.
Harry sounds different when Y/N wakes up. He feels different too. He’s solid as ever, solid yet yielding around her own softer form, but there are new ridges where she’s never known them to be and skin rocking forwards to kiss curves.
For a moment, it doesn’t register that this is… unusual. Y/N seems to process it twice.
Once with a sense of nonchalance.
Oh, Harry’s humping me in his sleep.
And once with an urgent kind of astonishment.
Oh. Harry is humping me in his sleep.
But that realisation doesn’t lend itself to her advantage. It doesn’t make her shoot upwards and scramble away before he realises. Because—sleepiness aside—it feels… it feels really good. His body is warm and his arms are tight around her waist; a security blanket made of bicep and sinewy forearm. But it’s wrong to enjoy him like this, without his permission, without his awareness.
“Harry. Harry, wake up, you’re—”
“Y/N…” her name falls from his lips like a feather; a confession soft spoken.
“Yes,” but he’s not awake. “Harry,” she digs her fingernails into his wrist, hoping the pinch will stir his slumber but he only ruts into her harder, a groan catching in his throat.
“Baby—” Y/N gasps with his moan, muscles tightening, seizing with panic. The bump in his sweats knocks over the rounds of her bum, sleep shorts thin and easily mussed. She can feel them riding up with each roll that Harry gives and the voice in the back of her head telling her to let him… it only gets louder.
He’s holding her so tight, entirely safe in his arms, so cardinal, so desired. It wouldn’t be so wrong of her to let him use her body like this. He deserves to feel good. She tells herself it’s not selfish, it’s not impolite of her to feel fulfilled too. There’s no control over what makes her body sing. But Harry seems to be pretty good at it, even in sleep.
His breath is in her ear; it blankets over the slope of her shoulder, warm and seducing. It feels right to have Harry’s lips tucked against her neck, like it was always supposed to be there. What if the side of her neck never feels warm again. It’s the shift of her hips backwards, mistakenly, that arouses him.
His body stills and the groans in his throat diminish as realisation dawns. But he’s not hurried, or stuttery in his movements. No, there’s no rush at all. A slight tumble over his words as he wakes up, “Oh sh—shit, m’sorry peaches,” and a stroke across the exposed skin of her stomach when he pulls back, “That’s my bad.” But that’s all he reveals, before untangling himself from the sheets.
Y/N coughs, splutters, over a response, unable to reply with anything that could be considered coherent. Her eyes are fighting to dart down when he stands. That’s my bad. His indifference, Y/N thinks, strikes a chord. But she doesn’t understand. Why her heart pounds harder and her legs squeeze tighter. Is she disappointed or is she disturbed? It’s too early to piece any of her feelings together. Her phone beams seven-forty when she taps the screen.
She rolls over onto her back, dragging her clammy palms over her face as Harry takes himself to the on-suite too casually. Her skin is all hot, roiling waves washing over her and strangling her thudding heart. The ghost of his body still presses against her, the hardness, the softness, all of it. The sounds he was making; new to her ears in all their time knowing one another. No amount of pretending could send her back to sleep now.
The bathroom fan whirs and Y/N can’t decide if she’s grateful or dismayed that she can’t make out any clear sounds.
When Harry emerges, the dusting of rouge across his cheeks makes Y/N’s stomach flutter, eyes darting around the room to look at anything else. He clears his throat and brushes the back of his index finger under his nose. Y/N might believe he was trying not to laugh if she weren’t so mortified.
And then he actually speaks. He speaks to her and she has to acknowledge him. “I’ve got to get the coach back this mornin’.”
She swallows, “Yeah, mhm, okay.”
“Alright,” A keycard appears between his fingers, and then he places it on the console table, “y’can return this to the front desk f’me?” Y/N nods silently. She doesn’t watch Harry as he gets dressed, or as he shoves things into his bag. She doesn’t even sit up, mouth seemingly stuck open in a gape. “Okay, bye, see you later, stinky.”
“See you—” but the door has already clicked shut, “—later.”
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