The one where you still hate Harry, but turns out, you might be having his baby.
Word Count: 5.4k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, spanking, brief choking, slight angst (happy ending), mentions of pregnancy and babies! *Please be so gentle with yourself and only continue if you feel comfortable! 💞*
“I’m late.”
“For what?”
You huff. “I’m late,” you repeat, gesturing frantically toward your hips. “A week late. Which I know can happen, but…not really to me, so…I’m late. And I think we’re fucked.”
Harry blinks. Looks down at your stomach. Looks up at your face. “Oh.”
“Oh?” You rear back. “That’s all you have to say for yourself is oh?”
He lifts his left shoulder in nonchalant shrug before flopping down onto your sofa. “I don’t know. What did you want me to say?”
“I…I don’t know,” you huff. “I kind of thought you’d…yell. Or freak out or something. Or ask me if I’m keeping it.”
“Do you want me to freak out?”
“Well…no. Not really.”
“Do you want to keep it?”
“I…I don’t know, I don’t even…I’m not even sure if I am yet or not.”
“Okay.” He nudges his glasses up before crossing his arms. “Well did you get a test?”
You glance toward the pharmacy bag still sitting on your kitchen counter. It’s been mocking you ever since you picked it up. Staring you down, sticking out its tongue. One, tiny little box that’ll determine the next chapter of your life. It’s almost infuriating.
“Yeah,” you mumble. “I, um…got one on the way home from work.”
“Okay. Have you taken it yet?”
“Not…exactly.”
His brow raises. “Do you…need help or something?”
You scowl. “It’s peeing on a stick, I think I’ve got it covered.”
“Yeah, well, knowing you, you’d find a way to fuck it up.” He smirks. “Sure hope our baby gets my brains instead of yours.”
You grab the pillow beside him and give him a firm whack. “That’s not funny.”
He laughs as he winces. “Good. I wasn’t being funny.”
“Then, stop it. And stop being so calm.”
“You just said you preferred calm—”
“Well…it’s scaring me now. So what gives?”
Another shrug. “I don’t know. I just don’t really feel the need to waste a reaction on something we don’t even know is happening yet. Take the test and then I’ll freak out if you’d like.”
“You say that like someone that’s had a lot of pregnancy scares.”
He snorts. “No, I say that like someone who knows freaking out won’t exactly help you right now. So just take the goddamn test, Tinkerbell. And we’ll go from there.”
Unamused, but somehow slightly comforted, you oblige and snatch the box from the table before retreating to the bathroom.
Once the timer has been set, you slowly make your way back to him.
He’s still sitting on the sofa. Calm. Unaffected. Watching you without a care in the world. Like his whole life isn’t about to change.
It drives you nuts.
“Five minutes,” you tell him.
He nods.
Warily, you sit in the chair to his left, staring holes through your shoes as your heart races inside your chest. You’re not sure how you got here. Not sure where you could possibly go. You aren’t ready for a baby. Not…yet. Especially not one with…him.
“Hey,” he calls, pulling your attention up. “S’the matter with you?”
Your eyes narrow. “What the hell do you think?”
Another casual shrug that makes your teeth grit. “I thought you’d be happy.”
“Happy?” You lean back. “Why on Earth would I be happy about getting stuck with your DNA for the rest of my life?”
He smiles. “I don’t know. You just seem like the type of girl to want a lot of babies.”
You scoff. “Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I am not.” You don’t think.
“Really? Is that why you begged me to breed you?”
“I didn’t actually mean it. That’s just what you say in a moment like that.”
His eyebrow raises.
You hesitate. “Did…did you mean it?”
“Kind of,” he admits. “I mean, yeah, maybe I didn’t mean right this second, but…I don’t hate the idea.”
“You actually want to be a father?” You snort. “Bullshit. You hate kids. I’ve seen you.”
“I don’t hate kids, I just don’t care about them when they aren’t mine.” He throws his arm over the back of the chair and smirks. “I like my nieces, though. They’re chill.”
You blink. “You…you have nieces? Wait, you have siblings?”
“Yeah. One brother. He’s got two kids and they’re cute as shit.”
“Oh.” Your head starts to pound. “See? We can’t have a baby when I don’t even know anything about you.”
He chuckles to himself before nodding his chin at you. “All right, fine. Go ahead. Ask me whatever.”
“What?”
“Ask me what you wanna know.”
You think. “Okay. How often do you see your family?”
“Often enough. They live in California, and they work a lot. But we call every couple of weeks.”
“Oh. That’s…surprisingly nice. Uh…do you have a history of disease in your family?”
He grins. “Excuse me?”
“I need to know what I’m getting myself into.” You motion at him. “Answer.”
“This isn’t an interview—”
“Answer.”
“No,” he says. “Not that I know of anyway.”
“Great. Do you plan to be a deadbeat father?”
His eyes roll. “I’m not dignifying that with a response.”
“So, yes? You do? Oh, great—”
“No, because that’s not a fair fucking question—”
“It is a fair question. If I have to raise this baby alone, I want to know—”
“Of course you wouldn’t fucking be alone. Do you really think so little of me—”
“I don’t think about you at all. How am I supposed to know what you’ll do—”
“I wouldn’t leave you alone,” he nearly snaps. He takes a breath to calm himself before adding, “Even if it wasn’t my baby, I wouldn’t leave you alone.”
Your lashes flutter and you can feel your heart lodging in your throat. “Fine. Last question.”
He waits.
“Did you ever want kids…before? With…her?”
He doesn’t have to think for very long, but the mention of her makes him smile. “Nah. We talked about it, but we weren’t ready. We liked it being just us, you know? We had a bunch of shit we wanted to do. We were a long way from babies and a white picket fence.”
You try to blink back the tears swimming their way to your eye. You can still see that beautiful picture of her in his room. An entire future of love and life and adventures that he lost. Now…he’s stuck with you.
“Oh,” you murmur.
His brows furrow. “What?”
“Nothing.” You swipe your knuckle along your cheek. “So, you probably still aren’t ready.”
“I didn’t say that.”
You give him an incredulous look. “Harry, come on. You aren’t ready for a baby. I’m not ready for a baby. We…we don’t know each other, we don’t like each other…we can’t do this. You know that.”
“Do I?” He leans forward. “It’s a baby, not a bomb. I think we can handle it.”
“Well, I don’t. You don’t even like me. You can’t have a baby with me.”
“Why not? People do it all the time.”
“But not us.” You give him a firm stare. “Harry, we love our jobs. We want careers, not kids. So having a baby kind of gets in the way of that. There’s…there’s diaper changes, and teething, and potty training—”
“So?”
“So. We don’t work together well. In fact, it’s a rather well-known fact that we don’t get along. We can’t possibly raise a kid. We’d ruin it.” You study him for a beat, unnerved by the nonchalance in his tone. “Why do I get the feeling you actually want this to be real?”
Another shrug and you nearly lunge at him. “I don’t know,” he murmurs, resting his elbows on his knees while he glances at the floor. “I’m older now. Maybe it’s time to…think about settling down.”
Your face scrunches. “Ew. That doesn’t sound like you at all.”
He laughs. “Look, I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it, but…maybe it could be a good thing.”
You stand from your chair and pace the length of your small living room. “This is crazy. This is crazy. I can’t have a baby, I’m…I’m not ready. I’m too young, I…I don’t even know what I’d do with one. Or if I even have a maternal instinct.”
“Probably not,” Harry offers, smirking when you glare. “You won’t really know until you have one.”
“Oh, great.”
“Listen, if you feel like you aren’t ready…we can find another alternative,” he says, softening his voice. “Okay? There are plenty of other options and we’ll find one you feel comfortable with.”
A tad wary of his sympathetic answer, you eye him closely. “Yeah? And what if we disagree?”
“We won’t,” he says calmly. “Your body, your decision.”
“Right,” you snort. “I’m sure.”
“I mean it. I wouldn’t be the one having to carry it.” He nods as though to reassure you. “Honestly, Tink. This would be your decision, one hundred percent. It’s not mine to make. Just to support.”
The tears rush a little faster as you sniffle and step closer. “You say that now, but what if I decide something you don’t like?”
“I will like it. I promise,” he murmurs, standing up in order to move toward you. “If you want to keep it, great. If you don’t, great.”
“I…I…” You suck in a deep breath, unable to slow the wild racing in your chest. “Fuck, I can’t…I don’t know—”
“Hey, okay, easy. Easy, Princess,” he says, quickly reaching out to take you in his arms and ease you against his chest. “Relax. Okay? Just breathe. Breathe for me.”
“I…I don’t think I can—”
“Yes, you can. You are.” His lips press to the top of your head while his hand runs up and down your back soothingly. “I’m right here. Do you hear me? I’m right here. You’re not alone. You won’t be alone. I promise.”
You squeeze your arms together and hold on with everything you have. Right now, he feels like your only anchor in the world. The only person strong enough to carry you both through to the other side. And for the first time since you met him…you feel glad that he’s here.
The two of you stand in the middle of the room for a long while before he finally murmurs, “I think it’s been five minutes.”
Your eyes close and you grip his shirt in your first. “I’m…I’m not ready to look.”
“Okay.” You can hear the smile in his response. “Okay, we can wait.”
So, you do as the truth starts to build in your chest. Inescapable, no matter how hard you try to swallow it down.
Finally, you can’t help but whisper, “You know what scares me the most?”
“Hm?”
“…that maybe I’m hoping it’s real.”
The apartment falls silent again. He doesn’t push you to elaborate, but you can feel his heart beating just a little faster inside his chest.
“I don’t know why,” you continue. “I don’t…I really don’t think I’m ready, but…but what if I should be? What if…what if we met and we started this because…because we were supposed to do this?”
He considers this. “Like fate.”
“Yeah.” You roll your lips into your mouth. “Because I still hate you. I do. I just…I’m starting to get this picture in my head of us. Being a family. Having a big house in a good school district. Tucking them into bed at night and reading them stories. Which is…dumb.”
“No,” he mumbles. “No, it’s not dumb. I’ve been thinking about it, too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Because I meant what I said, I’d love to get you pregnant. You’d look really fucking hot.”
You chuckle. “Yes, so you’ve mentioned.”
“Can I tell you a secret?”
“Uh…okay?”
He smirks. “I never had a breeding kink until I met you.”
You lean back and swat your hand across his chest. “You’re so annoying.”
“What? I’m being serious.” He grins and those dimples pop free. God, you hope your kids have his dimples—
No. Nope. You aren’t going there.
You shake your head, ridding yourself of the thought. “Whatever. You’re just horny.”
“Maybe. But it’s still true.” His gentle gaze sweeps across your face. “If you wanna do this…we’ll do it. You and me. We’ll have this baby, and we’ll raise it to be really smart, and funny, and to not take shit from anybody.”
You laugh, brushing away a few more tears. “Maybe we can teach it to write code.”
“Oh, fucking obviously.”
The two of you smile before the excitement seems to fizzle and Harry’s brows pull together.
“You know I don’t actually hate you, right?” he says.
You blink. “What?”
“I know that’s our thing, and I know you said it earlier, but…I don’t actually hate you. This baby wouldn’t grow up with two parents that don’t like each other.”
“Oh…I…I know.”
“Good. Because I don’t want that to be one of the reasons you think we can’t do it. I’d fucking love that baby. And I’d love you for carrying it.”
Instantly, you both seem to still. The four-letter word sounds so loud inside such a small room.
I’d love you.
He clears his throat, shifting a bit as he glances toward the kitchen. “I mean, I’d…I’d appreciate you for carrying it—”
“No, yeah, I know,” you stammer. “I know what you mean.”
“Good. Yeah.”
The two of you fall quiet again before you softly admit, “I think I’m ready to look.”
“Okay.” He squeezes your hip. “I’m right here.”
You take in a deep breath before begrudgingly pulling yourself out of his arms. You already miss his warmth and the way he felt like home and your stomach turns as you slip into the bathroom.
With trembling hands, you reach for the stick that sits on the edge of your sink. And in those three seconds, an entire lifetime flashes before your eyes.
The good, the bad, and the everything in-between. You see a house and a dog and a big backyard. You see two little kids rolling in the grass and jumping into the pool. You hear them begging for a bedtime story and crying when they scrape their knee.
You see a dozen birthdays and holidays and visits to the zoo. You see their heartbreaks and triumphs, their successes and letdowns. You see a million goodnight kisses and cuddles on the couch.
And then…you see Harry.
In every picture, every moment. Taking them to their first baseball game and picking them up from their first dance. Sneaking them into R-rated movies even after you explicitly said no and feeding them far too much candy and popcorn.
You see him teach your son how to tie a tie and dance with your daughter as she stands on his feet. You see him cooking breakfast in the kitchen, flour all over his face. You see him curled up in bed, his head on your chest, your fingers in his hair. You hear him tell you how happy he is. How glad that he found you.
It’s a beautiful life. Even if it’s not the one you imagined for yourself. And in that moment, you decide that it doesn’t matter what the test says. If that’s your future, so be it.
As long as you get to live it with him.
“So?” Harry calls from the hall.
You swallow thickly and slowly glance down.
Negative.
Negative.
No baby. No pregnancy. No white-picket fence.
You stare at the test for at least a full minute. You aren’t sure how you feel. Relieved. Disappointed. Upset. Thankful. Confused.
“Tink?”
You turn around. “Uh…it’s negative,” you report, handing it to him. “False alarm. I guess I’m just late.”
He glances over the stick with a rather blank expression before looking at you. “Are you okay?”
You nod. “Yeah. This is definitely the better outcome. I’m just…”
“What?”
“I don’t know. I guess I was just starting to get used to the idea.”
“Yeah,” he murmurs, handing it back. “I know.”
You throw the test away. “Sorry for making you come all the way over here for that.”
“Hey, whoa—” He strides into the bathroom. “What the fuck are you talking about? Of course I’d be here.”
“I just…I wasted your time. I should have taken it before I called you—”
“Tink,” he sighs, taking your cheeks in his hands. “Stop. You can always call me for shit like this.” He looks at you, then amends, “You can always me. For anything. You know that.”
A tear slips from your eye without warning, and you suck in a sharp breath. “I don’t know why I’m so disappointed. This is what I wanted—”
“I know,” he says gently. “I know. It’s hard.”
“Yeah.” You hiccup. “But this is good, right? This is better?”
For a moment, he says nothing. He simply stares at you with a rather sympathetic expression. Or maybe it’s forlorn. Maybe he’s disappointed. Upset that you aren’t giving him what he wants.
Then, he dips down to kiss the tip of your nose. “This is good,” he whispers, and you know he means it. “We would have figured it out. And you would have been a wonderful mom. But I know you. And I know you aren’t ready. Not yet.”
You close your eyes and melt into the feel of his palms against your skin. Into the way he reassures you and protects you all in the same breath. You never thought you’d feel so safe in the serenity of his touch, but here you are. Wishing for him to hold you forever.
“And when we are ready, we’ll do it on our terms,” he says. “Okay?”
Slowly, you nod. “This is good,” you repeat to yourself. “It is. Really. Things are going great at work, I’m finally secure financially, and even you and I are…kind of getting along.”
He smirks.
“This is good. This is better.” You repeat the mantra until you really believe it. “Besides, I probably wouldn’t have been a very good pregnant woman anyway.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. I feel like I’d be really cranky. Or needy. My ankles would get all swollen and I’d be hot all the time and nauseous and miserable. I’d probably try to kill you.”
“Oh, you’d definitely try to kill me. You try to kill me even when you aren’t pregnant.”
You gasp. “Rude.”
“What?” He chuckles again before his eyes slowly start to rake down your frame. “But I don’t know. I think it’ll be better than you think.”
You swat him again. “Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“Stop trying to picture it.”
“Why? I told you, you’d look fucking hot.”
“Yeah…no.”
However, he only nods, moving in to subtly brush his lips against yours. “You would. Be so fucking beautiful carrying our baby. With your tits all swollen and your belly getting bigger every day.”
Truthfully, the image almost makes you grimace, but there’s something about the way he says it. The way he talks about you so reverently. A soft, sultry murmur that goes straight to your cunt. Because you know he’s not just saying it to say it. He means it. Believes it. Would do anything for it.
He tilts your head back, thumb brushing along your jaw. “And I think you like it,” he exhales. “I think you like the idea of holding me inside you. Having a part of me. Knowing that I did it to you. No one else.”
You suck in a soft breath, knees going just a bit weak. “Harry…”
“What, baby?” His mouth ghosts along your neck. “Are you thinking about it? Thinking about how pretty your tummy would look with me inside it?”
He’s evil. Absolutely evil, and you clear your throat in a desperate attempt to regain control of yourself. “Do you…have a pregnancy kink I don’t know about?”
His lips quirk up. “Apparently.”
“Mm.” Your lashes flutter and the urge to kiss him grows stronger. “You know…some women get really horny when they’re pregnant.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“Yeah. I don’t think you could handle it.”
He scoffs. “Oh, no?”
You shake your head. “I mean, do you really think you could keep up? Going for hours and hours on end? Trying to keep me satiated with your poor, limp little dick?”
He makes another noise, and you tsk.
“I mean, you can barely satisfy me now as it is. But if I was pregnant? Pfft. Forget it.”
Instantly, he’s snatching hold of your hips and yanking you against his chest. “Don’t fucking tempt me, Princess,” he nearly growls. “I’ll bend you over right now.”
“No, I don’t think you will,” you retort. “You’ve gone soft on me. Rubbing my back, kissing my hair. You wanna take care of me and honestly? It’s a little pathetic.”
His head cocks rather deviously and your pulse begins to skip. He could split you in half if he wanted to and you both know it.
But that’s what you need right now. You don’t want to be coddled or looked after. You wanna be fucked. Tortured and teased until you’re begging for release.
You want an escape.
And in that moment, Harry decides to give you one.
He picks you up and carries you out of the bathroom while your legs quickly work to hook to his hips for stability and your arms snake around his neck.
He ignores your squeals and teasing huffs of annoyance, instead dropping you onto your mattress with a soft thud.
You glare and push up onto your elbows. “You know, you don’t have to manhandle me—”
“Shut up.”
He surges forward, lips gliding against yours as he takes a taste of you on his tongue. And kissing is easy with him. As easy breathing, like you’ve done it all your life. You know exactly what he likes, what he wants. And you give it him.
His glasses are cold against your face, keeping him from getting as close as he’d like, and after a moment, he huffs, and rips them off before tossing them aside. And even though you adore when he wears them, you happen to adore being near him even more.
Your hands are in his hair, tugging on his curls, scratching down his neck. He has the added advantage of being on top, but that doesn’t seem to stop him from turning to putty in your hands. Clay for you to mold to your liking.
No matter how dominant he tries to be, he’s simply a man that needs to be told what to do. Taken care of. Shown.
And you happen to like showing him.
You feel him tug on the hem of your shirt. “Off,” he breathes between carnal nips to your throat. “I want this off, Tink.”
Happy to oblige, you push him back so you can lift yourself up before you peel the fabric from your chest. You take your time with the bra, allowing the straps to fall down your arms oh so slowly. You don’t rush to reveal yourself to him, instead letting him anticipate you. Until his heart is racing and his eyes are darkening and he’s resisting the urge to do it himself.
But once he can finally see you, he nearly groans. “Oh, good fucking girl.”
He resumes his work. More kisses are left to the warm, tender skin, and he happily sucks bruises into each swell and curve of your breast before teasing the nipple with his tongue. His hands are greedy—ravenous. Pulling at your flesh, clawing his way along your frame.
When he reaches your thighs, you whimper. You’ve missed the way he touches you. The way he pries your legs apart and makes a home between.
In a rush, he snaps your panties off into his fist and you toss him a punishing glare.
He smiles.
You rid each other of your remaining clothes in a frantic fashion until they’re nothing more than a dirty pile on the floor. Messy and familiar. Fated.
He drops down onto the bed back first, effortlessly swapping positions as you’re placed in a straddle over his waist.
“Good girl, let me see you,” he murmurs, running his fingers down your cheek before grabbing your jaw. “Go ahead.”
You reach down and take his hardening cock in your hand, running it along your cunt before teasing yourself with the tip.
“Didn’t stretch you,” he mumbles, leaving a few stray kisses to your collarbone. “S’might hurt, so—”
You push him in, simultaneously sinking down in an effort to feel a more prominent burn., and you both make a rather lewd noise as the grip on your chin tightens.
“Tink,” he hisses with a punishing look of his own. “Careful—”
You drop yourself further, muscles tensing around the thickness until your thighs begin to shake.
“Hey—” He forces your eyes on his. “Enough. Be gentle, m’not gonna hurt you—”
“I want you to,” you pant. “Please. I need it. I…fuck, Har, I need it. Please…please.”
He’s still frowning but his expression softens. “Baby…not like this. Maybe we should wait until you’re feeling better—"
“No,” you whimper. Desperate. Fraught. “Harry, please, don’t stop. Don’t make me stop—”
“Hey, easy, easy.” He pulls your forehead to his. “Breathe. It’s okay.”
You try to obey. Try to suck in a strangled gasp of air but it’s useless. He’s gonna take himself from you. He’s gonna leave, and you’ll be empty, and alone, and maybe he won’t ever touch you again—
He places his palm on your chest, right over your heart. “Breathe,” he says again. Soft. Quiet. “In then out. Good girl, just like that.”
You follow the sound of his voice. Mimic his inhales and exhales until the two of you fall into a synchronized rhythm.
“Good,” he says again, rubbing his other hand along your back. “There you go. You’re all right, I’ve got you. Yeah?”
Weakly, you nod. “I’m…I’m sorry. I just…I—”
“Shh.” He kisses your nose. “You’re okay, Tink. I know.”
A long moment passes before you finally feel in control of your own heart again and once you blink the fog from your eye, you see him. Delicate and strong at the same time.
He sweeps his thumb along your lip. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you admit. “Really, I just…I needed to feel you. And I wanted to…move on, I guess. Think about something else. Lose myself for a bit.”
He sighs but nods his understanding. “You could have told me that.”
“I know. I guess I’m just not used to sharing things with you.”
“I know,” he echoes with a small grin. “But we’ll learn, yeah?”
Your gaze grows suspicious. “And why would we do that?”
“Because,” he says simply. “If we’re gonna make a bunch of hot, smart babies one day, we’re gonna have to communicate.”
You snort. “Yeah, well, that won’t be for a while.”
“Fine. Just gives us more time to practice.”
Your eyes narrow. “You really have gone soft on me, haven’t you? All because you thought I was pregnant."
He laughs, fingers slipping around the back of your neck to pull you in for a kiss. “I’d argue I’m actually quite hard right now.”
“Ha. Funny.”
“I can hate you and like you at the same time, right?” he teases. “Because I think that’s my sweet spot. Wanting to kill you and fuck you all at once.”
“Agreed. You’re insufferable but you’re also one of my favorite people. Which only makes you more insufferable.”
“Yeah.” He smiles. “I think we earned a little civility, no?”
You nod and take his lip between your teeth. “And I think we should celebrate with an orgasm.”
He laughs again. “I suppose that’s only fair.”
You dance your kisses down his chest, enjoying the way his head drops back while he sighs at the feel of your tongue. He’s so beautiful and so good and if you’re going to lose yourself, you want to lose yourself in him.
Leaning back, brace your hands behind you on his knees, and start to bounce yourself on his cock. Over and over, faster and faster, until he’s grabbing onto your hips and giving them a firm, encouraging squeeze to help you along.
Your tits bounce right in his face, and he takes advantage of his front row seat, allowing his hands to trace and tease your nipples as you whine. He sucks them into his mouth and pulls them with his teeth. It sends chills along your spine and goosebumps along your arms and when he notices, he smirks.
Not even a minute later, he’s pulling you down so your chest meets his. His hands land on your ass with a firm grip and he drags you along his cock. Slow and sensual until your eyes flutter shut, and you disappear into the building pleasure.
You feel his kisses on your ribcage as he begins to thrust up into you. Returning to the pace you previously set until you’re both chasing that familiar high.
“There you go,” he praises through gritted teeth. “Fuck yeah, just like that—”
“Harry,” you mewl, fingers tangling in his hair. “Shit, please—”
“I know.” He leaves another kiss to the inside of your arm before he smacks your left ass cheek. “I got you, Princess. S’okay. Keep going.”
You grind yourself over his lap, knees hugging his waist as you bury yourself in the crook of his neck. Needy. Anxious. You match each other’s rhythm and it’s a dance. An effortless fluidity that brings you closer than ever before.
Then, he sucks two fingers into your mouth, and moves them between your cheeks. He grazes them over your tighter hole, gently teasing them over the other entrance before dropping them down to where his cock is fucking into your cunt. He plays with you a bit, pushing you just a bit closer while you wail—depraved—and beg for more.
“My good girl,” he praises. He spanks you again. “Fuck—that’s it, baby.”
Your staccato whimpers are consistent now. One for every thrust and you can almost taste his desperation as he turns his head in order to kiss your cheek. The sound of skin against skin is crude and delicious. The way your body slides against his. Like butter on a hot day, melting together.
He goes faster, pulls you harder. Fingers digging into your skin so hard it almost hurts. But in the best possible way. In turn, you brace yourself with a palm on his throat. Squeezing it tight as you start to get closer.
“Yeah,” he groans. “Shit…harder—”
You obey, pinching the sides of his neck until his eyes roll back.
You can feel his heart racing against yours. You’re both warm. Hot. Shaking. A tangled mess of limps and depraved grinding like animals in heat.
“M’almost…m’almost there,” you whisper.
He nods, looking down your body to watch the way your ass bounces in his hands. “Go. S’okay, go. Let me feel you.”
He leaves more kisses to your side and the tender way his lips feel against your skin makes your brain go fuzzy.
You grip his throat a bit tighter and just like that…it’s over.
The two of you cum together, the room filling with moans and gasps and promises. He settles beneath you while you ride out the rest of your high but he makes sure to keep his arm around you through every second.
Once you finally catch your breath, he hums. “God-fucking-damn.”
You grin. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He turns to see you. “I think I’m pregnant.”
You roll your eyes with a swat to his chest but you’re laughing. “You’re so annoying.”
“And yet you still like me.”
“I never said that.”
“You said I’m your favorite person.”
“Yeah, well, I lied.”
“Right.” He helps you ease him out before he’s flipping you around and moving himself between your legs.
You blink. “What the hell are you doing?”
He lifts two fingers and eases them along your swollen pussy. Collecting the white, sticky substance already leaking out before easily pushing it back in.
“Harry,” you scold. “I think we’ve had enough breeding for one day.”
He smirks. “Relax, Tink, m’not breeding you. I just…like to see it drip out.”
Your heart leaps. “…oh.”
“Yeah.” He rests his cheek against the inside of your thigh in order to watch. “S’always so fucking pretty.”
You reach down and card your fingers through his sweaty curls. Happy and content for the first time in days.
He looks up. “One day,” he promises, even though it sounds more like a question.
But somehow, in this moment, it makes everything else worth it.
You grin.
“One day.”
AAA I can’t believe we finally did it!! I’m not gonna lie them being soft with each other is gross 😭 BUT ALSO CUTE!! YAY PROGRESS!!
Thank you so much for reading and for always being so nice!! 🥹💞💞 and of course thank you for the amazing idea hehe
Summary: You and Harry are best friends and there's no way he'd ever like you as more. Right?
A/n: best friends to lovers & mutual pining goodness 9.5k words
Warning: Some angst, some fluff, and some smut
You’ve known one another since you were 12. Harry’s always been cute. Really cute. It was hard to ignore your crush some days but most of the time you had no problem teasing one another, making fun of the other, and both pretending to not like each other. It was complicated having feelings for your best friend.
Then as you got older you were convinced he liked you back, but he got a girlfriend during sophomore year of college and so that had to be wrong. He obviously wouldn't choose another girl to kiss and have sex with if he liked you. You were a built-in sure thing, yet he went with the other choice.
Today you and Harry had gone to the amusement park together. You split a funnel cake with powdery sugar, you rode a few rides together, held hands as you ran through the rain back to your car and now here you were, in your bedroom at your parent’s house. The storm was heavy and the rain was falling hard and fast. Your parents were asleep and so you and Harry decided he would stay the night. It felt a little awkward for him to stay over because he hadn’t since he started dating Birdie six months ago.
But he’d slept over and in your bed plenty of times before Birdie. Nothing ever really happened. Well, except for the one time.
6 months prior
You’d woken up when you felt Harry moving in a rhythm that didn’t match up with your sleepy brain, so you turned and reached out for him to stop moving but you pressed your hand right over the skin on his hard penis, which he was pumping in his palm. He had been masturbating and was being really quiet, not making much movement at first. But once it started feeling really good and his balls squeezed as he was just about to come, he was shaking the bed a bit with his faster, more meaningful pace and it caused you to wake.
You both gasped the moment your hand came into contact with his, quite sizable dick. You were shocked first of all that it was sitting right there, just out and bare and his hand was clenched around it but also because of the thickness of him. You hadn’t realized. You knew what this was. He’d been masturbating and you looked up into his eyes, not wanting to look away from his pretty erection.
Harry was looking at you, suspended in motion. He intended on not waking you. Originally he was going to get up and go to the bathroom but then after he rubbed over himself he thickened up so fast, he thought maybe it would only take a couple of minutes. He was so horny and getting up from the bed would mean he’d have to walk 30 feet, open and close doors, move his limbs, and then he’d be standing while he wanked in the bathroom. It was a lot of effort, all that. This would have been a quick pop and then he could wipe up with the tissues sitting on the bedside table next to him. He’d never even have to get up.
He should have used better judgment looking back on it now, with your pretty eyes on his and his hand wrapped around his dick. And he saw the way you looked at his cock. Your eyes widened, lips parted. You paused for a bit as you slowly moved your hand away. It was almost like you wanted to keep your fingers on his solid smooth shaft. Warm. Long. Twitching as he was just interrupted from his orgasm.
So when you smiled at him and moved your own fingers down your long t-shirt and slipped them into your knickers Harry released the breath he was holding. You rubbed over yourself, fingers hidden by the fabric over them, and Harry started up his movements again.
You watched as he jerked his cock in a cadence that was the stencil for your own movements.
“C…can I see? Too?” Harry asked as he moved his free hand up to the band of your panties, still pumping himself.
You nodded at him and stopped your fingers for a moment as you pulled your panties down to your thighs. Then you quickly got back to work.
The sharp inhale of breath from Harry when he saw your pussy for the first time was not missed by you.
You spread yourself a little as you rubbed your clit to allow maximum friction. You and Harry were both rubbing your genitalia, masturbating with panting breaths right next to each other. You knew you’d regret this later but your tired/horny brain didn’t mind too much at the moment. Seeing Harry’s fingers wrap around himself as he fucked into his hand was so hot. And your little wet pussy in his view, arousal being pushed around over your clit, slushy sounds coming from you, it was his end.
You both came quickly, your eyes on one another, the scene was lewd and naughty. Harry ejaculated over his torso and his face scrunched, mouth wide open, breathing hard with one deep groan into the room.
Just the look on his face had you coming. It burst hotly from your veins as you watched his orgasming expression and you whimpered and moaned and when Harry heard you coming he opened his eyes to see for himself. He didn’t want to miss it.
After you both cleaned yourselves with the tissues on the bedside table, all in silence, you laid back into your pillow and Harry pulled the sheets back over his body. And it was never brought up again.
But that was just once. Before his girlfriend came into the picture, well, before they were “official” anyway. Which is probably why it was never brought up. And now he and Birdie were together, well, certainly nothing would be happening.
You both got into bed, joking around like always as you clicked your tv on so you could watch something for a bit. Neither of you was tired yet, you’d both admitted.
Harry slid into the bed next to you. You had your back against the wall and sat with your legs pointed toward the tv on the opposite wall. You’d stuffed pillows and blankets all around, both cozied in. But Harry was close and you were very aware of his proximity. Even with all the blankets and pillows, he’d wiggled in right next to you and his bony knee was dug into your low thigh. Burning, sizzling your flesh, and shooting up your skin directly to your core. You were so attracted to him, and it was moments like these that you hated it. Because he definitely didn’t feel the heat of proximity, his heart didn’t pummel his ribs in his chest, his tummy didn’t send out butterflies into his groin and make him drip with arousal as it did you.
You bit your lip and tried to keep your attention on the tv, or at least you tried to feign interest. Because you couldn’t pay attention to anything but the person sitting next to you. His looming presence. He was leaning toward you, his arm nearly pressed into yours, but just an inch short. It made the hair on your skin raise. Your throat felt dry.
Pay attention to the tv.
Then Harry chuckled and you turned to look at him, "What?"
"You. What're so you stiff for? Look like you're uncomfortable or something. This show's not that good, Y/n."
You forced a smile and knew you were red in the face. Your hormones were going nuts. Any time you were around him lately they were. You couldn't help it. You tried stopping the way you were attracted to him, the way you felt about him beyond just the attraction, the way it stung that he'd never choose you. But ever since that night when you masturbated together, the view of his cock in his hand had been carved into your brain, a permanent fixture and you had a hard time not thinking of him in that way.
"Oh just... I think I just need to..." you scooted around and moved away from him a bit. It helped you breathe. You acted like you were just trying to get yourself more comfortable when you lifted the blanket and pulled at it, to untuck it from your bottom, but the blanket wasn't really that tucked in so when you pulled you gave it too much muscle and the force caused your arm to fly up and you hit Harry in the chin.
"Ooomff!" He reached up and grabbed at his face and backed away from you.
"Oh my god! I'm so sorry! Let me see!" You got onto your knees and pushed Harry back, as you leaned over him to assess the damage. You'd whacked him good, "Does it hurt? Do you need ice? I'm so sorry, Harry!"
Harry just laughed and grabbed your hips, flipping you down to the bed, tackling you over the pillows, and holding you down, his hands pinning your upper arms down as he straddled you. You squealed and laughed at the sudden move.
Then Harry released your arms and brought his fingers down over your ribs and started to tickle your sides. You squirmed and kicked as much as you could and tried pushing his weight off of you but Harry was heavy and strong. Always freakishly strong.
"Oh no! Does that tickle? What 'bout here? Right here?" He continued his fingers over your shirt-covered ribs when you realized, between blushing and laughing from being tickled, that you'd taken your bra off because you two were settling in to go to bed anyway. It was a bit of a habit to remove your bra before bed.
And the reason why you realized it was because Harry suddenly slowed his movements and you opened your eyes to look up at him and saw the way his eyes were taking in the braless tits, with hard nipples poking through the t-shirt on the girl he was just tickling and it had you embarrassed.
You pushed at him to make him move off and he did. Silently. He didn’t say anything about it, just moved back to his spot on the wall and fixed his eyes on the tv.
You felt your face heat up and wished you could just disappear. Sink into the blankets and never come back up. He was obviously grossed out by your braless breasts. You swallowed the lump down your throat and tried to ignore how it made you feel that he reacted the way he did. Obvious disgust. And now? He can’t even look at you.
You both stared at the tv screen in silence. You went over in your head how you should apologize to him but the longer the moment had passed the less it seemed to matter. The damage was done. You felt nauseated.
Harry had tickled you plenty of times. In fact, he tickled you just about any time you were alone together and joking around and even in front of Birdie a time or two. Though you could tell Birdie was not a fan of him tickling you based on the scowl you’d receive when Harry would finally peel himself away from you. You loved it when he touched you, though. It felt like the only time it was okay to let him put his hands all over you and even though you truly were very ticklish, it turned you on just having his digits digging into your ribs or your tummy. But you wouldn’t ever tell him that. And you realized that if you had a boyfriend you wouldn’t want him tickling another girl that way either.
His voice made you jump as you were caught in a state of self-loathing and disappointment while trying to push down the reaction your body automatically had after he touched you.
“Y’hear me?” His head was leaned back to the wall as he was looking at you.
“Oh. No, I didn’t. Sorry.” Another thing to apologize for.
“Said that maybe we shouldn’t tell Birdie I’m staying the night. She wouldn’t like it.”
You nodded. Of course not. Wouldn’t want your girlfriend to know you're staying the night with your dog of a best friend. You put your gaze back to the tv and tried to brush off your upset. It was no use.
And suddenly his hand was on your wrist and he was leaning forward to get your attention, “Hey. Look at me. Are you okay?”
You turned your face to look at his handsome one and just shrugged, “Yeah. I’m fine. Why?”
“Cause you got pretty quiet after I tickled you. Did I do something wrong?” He seemed sincerely concerned.
You looked down at the blanket over your lap, “No. of course, you didn’t. Just felt embarrassed.”
Harry’s hand at your wrist tightened a touch, “Can you please look at me?”
You lifted your head again to look at him.
“There. Now, why did you feel embarrassed?” His kind eyes were always so entrancing.
“Uh… well, because I forgot I took my bra off and that was… well, it’s gross. I’m sorry.” You tried looking back down at your lap but Harry shifted and moved his hand from your wrist to your chin and gently tipped your face toward him so you had to look at him.
“What’s gross? Nothing gross has happened here tonight. And you shouldn’t be embarrassed. S’just boobs," Harry laughed his words as he spoke.
You nodded but kept silent. Yeah, just boobs. Ugly ones attached to your ugly friend, nothing to get worked up over.
Harry kept his eyes on yours for a little longer than he normally would and you swear you saw him look down at your lips and then slowly back up to your eyes. It had you feeling warm and confused. There was a time you thought he liked you but then he asked Birdie out and she was everything you were not. You two couldn’t have been more opposite. And that was all you needed to know to see he probably never liked you like that.
But this look, this gaze had your heart racing. You'd seen it before.
“Pretty.” He said it in nearly a whisper. A quiet statement that might not have been meant for your ears but you heard him. And he was looking at you as he said it, more to himself than to you.
You stitched your brows together and shook your head. No, that's unlikely that he'd said that. You huffed a laugh and tried to turn your face away but Harry's hand kept a loose grip on your chin, turning you back to face him.
"You're pretty. Very. It's why I think we shouldn't tell Birdie. Because she thinks I like you," Harry's words had you utterly confused. You're pretty, he says, but also, he doesn't want Birdie to know... it didn't make sense what he was saying.
"Right. But of course, you don't like me like that. So..." you looked down, and moved your eyes off of his beautiful ones while he still held your chin.
"I do. But... we're friends and... I guess that makes this complicated," he released your chin and you turned your head away. You knew it was a lie. He was just trying to make you feel good. Soften the blow of why he would never choose you.
"That's okay. I get it, Harry," you swallowed the lump in your throat and blinked your tears back. You would not allow yourself to cry in front of him about this. It was silly.
Harry sighed and from your peripheral could see him lean back to the wall where he turned to face toward the TV.
It was silent like that for a bit. No words, no movements. You were feeling quite sad and confused, but mostly sad.
You don't know how long you two stared at the TV in silence. The dark room was lit up with the TV screen and the volume was low so as not to wake your parents.
"So that's it? I get nothing from you?" Harry spoke quietly. You turned to look at him as he kept his gaze on the TV. His jaw was clenched.
"What do you mean?" You were so confused about everything that he'd said. Now, this?
Harry slowly turned his head toward you and he looked upset. He had a frown line between his brows as he spoke, "I just told you that I liked you and that I think you're pretty. You gave me nothing. You never give me anything. I've been flirting with you and dropping hints for years. I get nothing from you but jokes and you just brush me off every time." He sounded mad.
You blinked in your confusion and frowned, "What? What do you mean? Dropping hints? Harry, you have a whole girlfriend who is my complete opposite. I don't understand what you mean."
Harry shook his head and kept a look of disdain over his features, "You're always acting so clueless. We flirt and you brush it off. Remember when we... you know, you saw me that night and we both... did that mean nothing?"
You huffed and scowled, "Obviously it did but then you went and asked Birdie to be your girlfriend the very next week. What was I supposed to do? Beg you to not go out with her?" You had raised your voice slightly.
Harry let out a scoff, "I wanted you to tell me you liked me, Y/n. You never said anything about it again after that. The next morning when I tried bringing it up you made some joke about it. How it was gross. So, yeah, I tried to move the fuck on with a girl who I know for sure likes me."
You thought back to that morning after. You felt like he was not serious when he brought it up. It seemed like he was joking about it himself so you went with that vibe and brushed him off. But now he was here he was mad about it somehow.
"I don't know what to think Harry. You're confusing me."
Harry shuffled on the bed and turned toward you, his face still set in a serious expression, "Okay. Fair enough. I guess I should just…” he sat for a moment as he looked at you, his jaw clenched, “I like you. I would have liked to have asked you to be my girlfriend. Not Birdie. Does that clear up your confusion?" He looked down at you with his brows raised before continuing, "But you never could tell me what you felt for me. Every single time I tried to talk to you about it you laughed it off. So what was I supposed to do?" Harry laughed and shifted again, "You always give me mixed signals, Y/n. I see the way you look at me, and sometimes the way you flirt with me is not just a friendly flirt. And that night when we masturbated together... well that was something. But you're too scared to let me like you so you pretend there's nothing here. So that's why I have a girlfriend who's not you."
You were stunned. You couldn't look him in the eyes or breathe or move. You had to be dreaming but you also knew you weren't. You felt ashamed and disappointed in yourself because he was right. He'd given you a lot more than you'd ever given him and now it was probably too late.
You returned your gaze to his and soften your features as you pushed your nerves down to tell him the truth once and for all, "I'm sorry. You're right. I..." you swallowed to wet your dry throat and felt your nerves bubble over as you pushed them down to finally spit it out, "I like you. I have for a long time. I just... I didn't think you really would like me that way."
Harry's stern expression with the frown line softened as you spoke but then he shook his head, "Fuck that. I have tried to show you. Don't put the blame on me here - saying I wouldn't like you like that. What's that mean? That's bullshit and you know it."
You licked your lips and nodded. It was bullshit. You were just a coward, "Sorry."
Harry sighed and groaned, "Stop. I don't want to hear sorry. Do you have feelings for me? As more than just friends, Y/n. I need to know. It feels like you do but you keep pushing me away. I just need to know so I know what to do here."
You smushed your face up in confusion again, "What to do?"
Harry laughed in frustration and shook his head, "Answer the question."
You both stared at one another, the proximity was causing you to ache again. He'd put his hair in a bun before you got into bed because his hair had gotten long and for some reason, you found him even more attractive than when he had it down. His cheekbones were gorgeous. His features were perfectly symmetrical and handsome. There was no way he'd actually be into you. But he just said he was. You had to tell him the truth.
"I do have feelings for you, Harry. Um... deep feelings and I have for a long time. I like you a lot," you looked down and took a deep breath. You don't know why it was so hard to say but now that you had you felt your entire body tingle with embarrassment.
Harry was silent for a bit. It had you worried. You'd already struggled to tell him that you liked him and now he was quiet. You looked up at his face and Harry had his lips pursed to the side in thought. His light green eyes were on your face.
"Is that what you wanted to hear? What? Now I've said it and that's it?" You crossed your arms over your chest and Harry rolled his eyes.
"God, you're so frustrating. I just wanted a moment to bask in the news you'd just given me. Wanted a moment to soak it in." His expression became playful, a lopsided grin took over his features, and his dimples appeared. You smiled back at him and looked down at your lap.
"You like me enough to be my girlfriend?" He raised his brows at you and tilted his chin upward.
You parted your lips, "Uh... yeah. But you already have a girlfriend so..." you narrowed your eyes at him.
Harry let out a breath in disbelief, "Shut up. You have to stop acting like you wouldn't jump my bones this very second if I asked you to," he smiled as he spoke and you shoved at his arm.
"Would not! Harry, you have a girlfriend. You know I'd never do that."
Harry chuckled, "But you would be my girlfriend if I broke up with Birdie?"
You felt like you'd pass out. Was this happening? Harry was the only guy you'd ever felt anything for and he was gorgeous, fun, and your best friend. And now he was asking you this? Your answer was automatic, "Yes."
Harry's grin widened as he lifted his bum and pulled his cell phone from his back pocket. You watched him pull up his messages and bring up Birdie's contact.
It was pretty late, nearing midnight. Birdie had known that you and Harry had gone to the amusement park together and you saw the messages from her that he'd not yet answered.
From Birdie: I thought you were coming over after?
From Birdie: Are you with her still?
Harry typed in his message quickly and hit send.
To Birdie: Yes. I'm with her. Sorry about doing this over text but it's late. I think we should break up. Have felt this way for a while. We'll talk about it tomorrow and I’ll explain.
You stared down at the phone as he locked the screen and put it face down on the bed.
Your heart was pounding in your chest when you looked up at Harry with new eyes. This all felt like a dream.
"There. I'm single now. Wanna go out with me, Y/n?" His smile was a bit cocky and you still had your mouth dropped open in surprise as you nodded.
"Okay. Yeah."
Harry wasted no time in leaning over you and cupping your face. He didn't press his lips to yours right away but you could feel his warm breath on your top lip. He smelled like mint and soap.
"Yeah? Are you serious? Because I don't just like you a little. I want you to be my girlfriend but this is more than that. You mean it?” Harry’s warm hands on your face felt dizzying.
You bit your lip to suppress the grin that was taking over and nodded, “I am. I’ve wanted that… this. I really like you, as more than a friend, Harry.”
Harry let out a sigh and closed his eyes before shifting to his knees, still with your face in his hands, his forehead to yours, “Fuck. Okay. Then I need you to understand me when I tell you this," Harry swallowed and you heard it and you felt his lips brush over yours briefly before he continued, "I'm in love with you, Y/n. I'm crazy about you."
Your lips were still parted. There was no part of you that didn't love every part of him and now he was here in your bed telling you he felt the same. It was insane how fast things changed from the moment you arrived at your bedroom until now.
"H... Harry... I love you too."
The moment the last word left your mouth his lips smoothed over yours in reckless haste. It was your first kiss with Harry, well like this because there had been the occasional peck of the cheek and forehead. But this kiss had your brain turned to putty. Your limbs were floating and your heart was bouncing around on the inside of your body. You lifted your arms to wrap around his neck and Harry moved his hands from your face down to your waist to pull you in close to him.
You’d kissed a handful of guys but none of them gave you butterflies the way this kiss did. None of those kisses filled your body with an ache and relieved the craving all at once. None of the kisses you’d had in the past felt like they’d change the course of your life like this one.
When his tongue pressed against yours you whimpered on accident, Harry broke from the kiss with a small laugh. His eyes were dark and his raspberry lips were wet and pinker than you’d ever seen them.
“God. So you’re my girlfriend? And you fucking love me?” Harry swallowed and let out a shaky breath as his chest rose and fell with a heavy breath, “I’ve just wanted you for so long. I feel like we’ve wasted so much time.”
Oh god did you want him too. For years. Everything about him was your ideal. You modeled every idea of a relationship after the friendship you had with him. You knew everything about one another and your feelings for him ran so deep that you felt it seep from the bottom of your feet and squish around with every move you made. Like stepping into the ocean and having your feet sink into the silky sand underneath. The kind that gets into your toenails and even after you’ve showered you find traces of it all over your clothes and your shoes and your floor. And then the night you saw his dick all those months back. You hadn’t stopped thinking about it. You’d only had a few quick boyfriends. One of them you had sex with but none of the guys you tried dating would come close to being like Harry.
You dropped your gaze to his crotch and noticed the sizeable bulge and you let out a laugh. It all felt so surreal.
Harry scoffed, “Looking down at the big guy? Do you want another peek at him so you can make a more informed decision as to whether you actually love me or not?” Harry’s words sputtered out in a laugh. He was always teasing like this. It felt like you two were back to normal but now there was a heavy blanket of sexual tension covering you both.
“Shut up! Do you think your dick is what made me love you?” You laughed and nudged at Harry but he grasped your wrist and kept you close. His smile had turned to something a little more seductive, the kind of smile you’d seen him give you before and you felt your tummy dip and soar. It was a smile that faded into something severe and tender. Like need and hunger.
“Probably. It’s what all the girls like me best for,” Harry chuckled and licked his lips. He was teasing obviously. Trying to be playful but you were reeling. You did want to see his dick again. You were already imagining what it might taste like in your mouth, what it would feel like inside of you…
“You’re so dumb,” you spoke with a smile and looked back down at the bulge and back up to him deciding to keep the moment light and teasing, “Okay. Yeah. Let’s see it again so I can decide if I want it near me or not,” you laughed and bit your lip as you looked at Harry. You both smiled and you watched as Harry bit his lip, mimicking your expression.
He kept his eyes on yours with his brows raised as if to say, challenge accepted. Harry was not one to shy away from showing his body. He was quite comfortable with himself. He’d walked around in front of you in boxers or naked (but covering his bits with a towel or a shirt) so many times you couldn’t count. He unbuttoned his pants and lifted his hips to drag them down his thighs. He paused for a moment, his eyes still on yours with a faint smile, head cocked to the side and brows still raised on his face as he pushed his boxers down and then took his t-shirt off swiftly, tossing it into the room. Some of his hair was pulled from the bun he had it in when he pulled his shirt off.
There it was. In all its glory once again. Long and thick and pink at the tip. Your breathing picked up and your head swirled in lust and you felt like you might pass out. But you wanted to touch him and you wanted him to touch you.
You lifted yourself to your knees and pulled your sweatpants down. You weren’t wearing panties but you knew where this was going. It was something you’d wanted for years. You decided that even if he didn’t want to have sex (which was highly unlikely) you’d be okay with that. But you wanted to have sex. The only time you’d ever done it was pretty okay. You liked it enough that you’d like to do it again, and you felt so close to Harry that you knew it would be better with him.
Harry’s gaze landed in between your thighs and his expression changed to something raw, carnivorous. His mouth parted and he couldn’t see your pussy but the view of your soft thighs and the way he knew you didn’t have a bra on under your thin t-shirt made him want to bite down on your smooth inner thighs.
When he reached for you to pull your body to his, you fumbled over his legs and he dragged you up to him where the bottoms of your thighs settled over the top of his, your legs straddling his hip as he leaned back. You pressed your lips to him and he put his hands on your sides. You both had no underwear on. If you moved up only a couple of inches your naked centers would come into contact.
Harry’s palms were gripping your sides keeping you in place. He wanted to bring you up to his dick and have you pressed to him, but he was holding back for your sake. He wasn’t sure if you wanted that or not, but you had taken your sweatpants off…
Harry’s mouth on yours, his tongue sweeping across your tongue, his strong hands holding your hips, the smell of his soap… it felt like everything you ever imagined. And you had imagined it. A lot. You often touched yourself thinking of the way his cock looked in his hand that night. In fact, ever since that night, you hadn’t masturbated to any other person. It had only been Harry from that day on. And now, you were sat in his lap with your warm centers so close you could feel the heat of it over your tummy.
You pushed at his shoulders and sat back to look at him. You wanted to pull your shirt off but there was a bit of you that was still feeling just a little shy. He couldn’t see that you didn’t have panties on yet. Once your shirt came off you’d be totally naked before him. He’d seen your pussy before, but that was in a moment of a sleep-filled lusty haze. There was no sleepiness to use as an excuse this time.
You brought your palms down over his chest and darted your eyes down to his cock. You licked your lips and looked back up at him. You knew he’d slept with three girls. He always told you about his sex life. He knew all about yours too. You hated that he’d been with other girls, far prettier than you thought of yourself.
But Harry hated that you’d been with anyone else as well. He wasn’t going to call himself a Casanova or anything but he knew he could be better with you than anyone else. Half the time he was with Birdie, he imagined it was you. He tried not thinking of you but anytime you two would hang out there was always flirting and teasing, and when he’d go to see Birdie after, if he had plans with her, he couldn’t get you off his mind and it was you he fantasized about.
When Harry began to grin at you because you were taking too long to make another move, which was true as you were just looking from his dick to his eyes, you laughed through your nose. It felt so silly to be shy around him, but at the same time, this was all new territory.
Harry started to laugh with you and then he softly pushed at you, making you fall to your back he kept his hands at your ribs and started tickling you to ease some of the tension because in all honesty, he was nervous too. You were laughing and kicking at him but Harry sat over your thighs keeping you from doing any damage and when he looked down that’s when he noticed your lack of panties. He paused his hands and softened them over your ribs, the pads of his fingers now faintly caressing your sides as he kept his eyes on your pussy. You watched his jaw go slack as he shamelessly inspected the way your thighs were pressed tightly together and how his cock was hanging right above you, it was beautiful, both of your naked bodies so near.
“Not wearing your knickers. That’s a surprise,” Harry smirked at you and brought his hands down to your bare hips and over your thighs and you watched as he swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing harshly.
He pushed himself to hover over you and brought a hand down to your left thigh to spread your legs. He settled in between your thighs and leaned down to kiss you again. But this time he was directly over your body and you could feel the weight of his warm dick lying over your tummy and you moaned and spread your legs further. You knew you were already slick. You usually became wet anytime you were around him for long enough.
Harry groaned and you felt him rock down over you, his thick shaft digging down into you. He continued kissing and licking at your mouth when he reared himself back just a little, placing his cock over your pussy. When he nudged down a little to feel how warm you were he realized you were wet and he easily slid upward.
“God… Y/n. Fuck…” Harry moaned, not stopping his hips from rocking down over you.
You both continued moving together and kissing for long moments. It was something you thought you could do for all eternity. Harry’s heavy cock felt so nice in between your folds and being dragged up and down over your clit.
You whimpered when you began to tingle a little. You felt a little surprised that you could come like this, but of course, you could. It was Harry.
Harry stilled his hips and backed away from the kiss. His pupils were blown out and his lips were pink and puffy, “You’re so wet for me. Bet I could just slip right inside like this,” and he pushed down, nudging at your clit for emphasis.
You nodded, “Yes. I think you could…” you licked your lips and watched Harry’s face closely. You were hungry for anything he was willing to give.
“Can I lick your kitty for a bit,” Harry grinned as he said it. You laughed and nodded.
You held your breath as Harry moved down your body and he put his arms under your thighs and pushed you down into the bed. He looked up at you, still with that smirk on his face, and just as you were about to shove him for being goofy he opened his mouth and brought his tongue out to swipe up your wet folds. You were effectively rendered speechless.
He kept humming and you’d hear, “Mmm…” as he licked through your labia and over your clit. His eyes stayed on you as he ate you out. You watched as his tongue worked around your clit slowly and then he’d draw it into his mouth with a slurping noise. When he pulled his face away a bit to look down at your pussy you watched strings of your arousal from his mouth down to your pussy. He licked his lips, breaking the drips of arousal off and swallowing it down.
He focused his attention on your cunt and moved an arm out from under your thigh to rub his fingers through your folds. You moaned softly at the sensation and the way you were feeling so vulnerable under his close examination.
Harry looked back up at you, his fingers still working your pussy slowly, “You taste so good and you look so pretty. This pussy is the best pussy I’ve ever had, and we haven’t even really started yet.”
You panted when he spoke. You hadn’t expected those words to come out of his mouth. It was sometimes hard to be serious around him but this was no laughing matter. You were so turned on it hurt. You loved everything about this.
Harry returned his mouth to your cunt and then gently eased a finger into your entrance. You dropped your mouth open and let out gasps and felt your simmering blood turn to a boil as he sucked you in and licked you up. His finger massaging at your walls with the low murmur of the TV on in the background.
You put your hands into his hair and this made it come mostly out of the bun he’d had it in. It didn’t matter. He didn’t stop what he was doing to you and you yanked on his hair as you swayed your hips over his mouth.
You had to keep quiet, though. You still lived with your parents and they were just downstairs asleep. It was a conscious effort to keep your moans at a very soft volume, but the way his mouth felt on you had you wanting to be loud.
Harry began to groan a bit and with his cock desperate to be rubbed on something he rocked into the comforter under him, keeping his mouth on your pussy. You looked down at his face and he had his eyes squeezed shut. You could tell he was trying to get relief with the way his hips were grinding down into the bed. You pushed at his forehead a bit and he lifted his face, his lips ghosting over your wet pussy.
“Harry? Um…” you swallowed your nerves down, “… do you want to have sex?” You wanted to have sex. You wanted to feel him inside of you.
Harry’s brows shot up and he pushed himself up and looked around the room and back to you with a nod, “I mean… yeah. Of course I do,” he spoke with a laugh as he pumped his cock a few times for relief. He was aching already. Having his mouth on you was doing him in.
You sat up and finally pulled your t-shirt off over your head and Harry’s eyes widened. He climbed over you, pushing you back down to the bed, and attached his mouth to your tit and lapped around your pebbled nipple as he squeezed the other one under his palm gently.
He looked up at you and shook his, “Fuck,” before going down to kiss and suckle at your other breast.
You laughed when he nipped at you and he raised his head again, his hair all strung out and messy, half up in his bun, “How do you look like this and I never… shit Y/n. You’re so pretty,” he pushed himself up with his face scrunched, “I think I could cry. Fuck…” he palmed at both of your tits for a few more moments, watching as he smushed them together and pushed at your nipples. He couldn’t believe he was getting to grope you after all these years.
When he looked back up at your face you were smiling gently. He smiled back at you, biting his lips into his mouth, the indents in his cheeks carving inward, “Do you have a condom?”
You nodded and sat up again. Harry moved back to give you space and you pulled a packet from your bedside drawer and tossed it to him.
It felt so crazy to watch him naked in your bed as he slid a condom over his dick. A condom that he was putting on and was meant to be used with you. You were both going to have sex. Together. You had goosebumps over your skin but you felt hot. You had imagined this scene in your mind over and over again and now it was really happening.
“Do you want to get on top? Or what do you want? I’m not going to be picky here. I’m gonna like anything you want,” Harry spoke with a low voice as he settled next to you, his hand smoothing up over your hip to your tummy.
“Mmm…” you considered. You weren’t super experienced and the one guy you’d slept with never made you come so you weren’t sure what you liked the most, “Maybe you can start on top, and then we can switch to try with me on top if we feel like it?”
Harry nodded and squeezed your sides with a big smile. He pulled your face back to his and kissed you a little, his palm softly massaging your breasts. And in a smooth transition, Harry moved your legs apart and put himself between your thighs. He rubbed the insides of your soft thighs and got a good look at your pussy again before grasping himself and dragging the condom-covered tip through your slick flesh.
“Okay. Are you ready? Do you need anything first?” He wanted this to be the best you’d ever had. He didn’t want to do anything wrong and he wanted to make sure that you were happy and well-pleased with him. He wanted to be a good lover.
“I’m ready. Just need you,” you nodded and spoke in a whisper as you watched Harry’s arm flex when he lined himself up to you and began to gently and slowly move past your entrance. You watched Harry, his eyes on yours as he entered you for the first time. It was a gorgeous little stretch and pull and you gasped with a smile on your face.
Harry returned your smile and paused for a second. He wanted to enjoy this with you. He planned on going slow and connecting with you the whole time.
“Okay? Feels okay?” He breathed his words out and you nodded with a grin.
He began to push himself in further before he slowly reared back and then plunged in again, coating the condom with your arousal. Each time he backed out a little and then pushed back into you he got a bit deeper.
His languid strokes were slow and smooth. You were both panting and it felt so good. It felt like it was meant to. You were so happy, so beyond excited about Harry wanting you that your brain was fuzzy with joy and love and all those gushy gooey feelings. Harry leaned over you as he continued fucking into you slowly. He pressed his lips to yours and you opened your mouth up right away, licking his tongue and pushing your lips together with hot open-mouthed kisses.
You were glad the TV was on. It helped to drown out the noise of your mattress squeaking and the small moans and whines coming from you two. You kept quiet but you knew that if Harry sped up at all things would naturally become louder.
You rocked your hips upward each time Harry rolled his hips down into you, giving your clit the friction it needed. Harry kept his mouth over yours as his cock slid inside of you, deeper and deeper until he was pushed into the hilt and he let out a bit of a louder groan when he felt you squeezing him tight.
He lifted his mouth and with a small laugh he spoke, “Thank fuck for the condom or I’d already have been coming. You feel really good,” his grin was sexy and you lowered your hands to his bottom and pulled him in closer to you. He kept his eyes on you as he thrust upward into you, keeping himself fully sheathed inside of you.
You bit your lip and breathed hard through your nose. He was deep. It felt so good, though, to be connected to him this way and you nodded, “It does feel really good. I can feel you so deep, Harry,” your words were panted out as Harry continued rolling his hips upward to push your insides apart.
When he began to pull out to his tip and then glide inward you could hear how wet things were down there. Harry was grunting and he felt his groin get wetter and wetter each time he got balls deep. Part of him wished he get even deeper, push even further into you, lodge his cock into your guts so far that you two could never be apart again.
His cadence increased a little and the wet sounds of your bodies patting together were now just as loud as the TV. Though the volume was low, it was still an obvious noise of sex.
Harry put his hands into your hair and cradled your head as he fucked you, looking into your eyes, “I love you so much, Y/n,” his words were shaky breaths and he snorted a little at the end which had you laughing but when he gave you one harsh thrust you yelped and grasped onto his back with your fingers. He didn’t mean to thrust into you so hard but you felt so good. He couldn’t wait to start having sex with you all the time. This was the first time, though, so he really did want to go slow and make it meaningful, make it last and last. But he just knew that he’d be railing you so deep and hard and making you scream the next time. The first time, however, he wanted to show you his feelings, give you all of himself with a slow, decadent fuck and he wanted to savor the way you felt in his arms and on his dick.
Your mind was reeling from how he felt inside of you, the way his body felt over yours, how he made you feel so pretty and so loved, “I love you too, Harry…” you moaned your words and felt yourself being gently rocked upward at each of his plunges.
Harry began to shake a little, he felt his balls tighten and he knew he was going to come soon. He stopped rocking his hips and breathed for a moment to calm down. He wanted you to come first.
“Wanna get on top and ride me?” Harry kissed your lips after he asked and you nodded into his lips.
He quickly pulled out and got onto his back as you climbed over him and sat up. You placed your palms over his chest and Harry put his hands on your outer thighs, loving the view of your tits and your stomach on view for him. He was over the moon. It was also a nice reprieve for him to have you switch positions so he could regain his composure and not come too fast.
Harry watched you as you grasped his cock, wetted hair at the base, and the condom smooth underhand. You would love to feel him without the condom. You’d heard things about the extra friction and heat that could be felt without a condom, but you were just happy to be getting his cock at all.
With one hand on his chest to stabilize yourself and your other one holding his shaft steady, you sink over him slowly and watch the tip slip in. Harry held your hips and watched as your pussy spread for his girth and he twitched as you lowered only an inch. Once you got his head past your entrance, you kept him shallow inside of your cunt as you placed both palms at his chest and moved slowly just over his tip, really feeling the way it opened you up, savoring the thickness of him.
Harry smiled at moved his gaze from where you were connected to your eyes, “Just gonna fuck tip? S’that feel good like that, Y/n?” His voice was deep and strained.
You loved how it felt in fact, “God, Harry… it just feels so good. Just wanna, go like this,” you said as you pushed down over him, getting only a tiny bit deeper before moving back upward so he was nearly all the way out, and then fucking down on his tip again, “for just a minute. It’s so thick.”
Harry closed his eyes at your words. He knew he was large. But hearing you say it while you were naked and your pussy was gripping at his head, the little sounds of your arousal being plunged into, the smell…
Soon, though, you wanted to feel him pushing your wet walls apart again. You wanted him moving your insides around and feeling how much he could stuff you full. You lowered down further until you were seated over his lap with his balls tucked securely under your bottom. You ground over him for a moment, rubbing your clit onto his pelvis.
Harry moved his hands from your waist to your round bottom and he hung on tight as you rode his cock, slicking yourself up and down, with your hips angled to keep your clit in contact with him. It sent electricity through your body when you had his length inside of you this way. It was deeper when you were on top and it ached inside of your body as you moved down over him. You couldn’t help but start tearing up just a little because it was everything you’d wanted for years.
Harry was silent other than his own breathy grunts each time you moved down over him. He saw how you were getting a little emotional, but he was too. He pulled you down so he could press your lips together and he adjusted his hips and began to gently rock into you from his position. It was soft and slow still, but the springs in your mattress were squeaking in rhythm with his upward thrusts.
It was so intense, the way everything felt in your body, your heart was pounding and your mind was surging with thoughts of complete bliss to be loved in return by Harry. He loved you. He wanted you. His cock was pushing into your pussy and everything just felt so good. Your mouth and his mouth moved slowly, softly as you both moved your hips together.
When you suddenly felt the snap of your orgasm begin to pulse around your middle and the tingle started to spread from your tummy to your clit and then into your vagina, you knew it was going to wreck you. This wasn’t just going to be like the orgasms you achieve by rubbing at your clit quickly in bed each night. Harry's big dick was pressing into your g-spot with ease and the way he was moving into you meant you felt him inside of you and your orgasm was going come from inside of you as well.
Harry felt you begin to quiver and your mouth stopped moving on his when you began pulsing gently over his cock. He increased his speed of upward thrusts just a bit and the bed began to rock a little harder. The sound of wet skin making contact was in rhythm with the springs in your bed and you began to moan a little louder than you should have.
Harry knew you were coming when you began to shift over him faster and began to moan. He tried to put his mouth over yours to keep you quiet but you angled yourself away from him as you gasped and rocked your pussy over his cock, “Fuck, Harry! Holy shit!”
Harry laughed as you clenched his dick and your moans were so loud. He couldn’t stop you, though. And he just hoped your parents couldn’t hear you. You felt so good on him, coming and moaning and shaking in your orgasm.
Harry watched your face with your mouth dropped open and your tits bouncing as you used his cock for your pleasure. He threw his head back into the pillow and smiled as he gasped and spurted into the condom. He was in heaven, coming with you on him, your name falling from his mouth. He loved that his dick made you feel so good you lost control of yourself.
Harry panted and shut his eyes tight as he released his come, his orgasm finally giving him total relief.
You collapsed over him as you began to come down and breathed into his neck with a big smile on your face and a few tears on your cheeks. It was probably the happiest you’d ever been. All in one night Harry had admitted he liked you, then told you he loved you, then fucked you so good you cried. And now he was yours.
Harry rubbed over your back slowly and kissed your temple. He loved this moment. He knew there would be many more like this and it squeezed his heart just thinking of how you were his now.
You pushed yourself by your elbows and looked down at Harry and his disheveled hair. The band that held his bun in place was nowhere to be seen, his chest flushed with a big dimpled smile on his face.
“Harry…” you didn’t have anything in mind to tell him. You just wanted to say his name.
“Y/n…” he said to you as he pinched your bottom and you jumped but he held you down over him so you couldn’t move too far from him.
Everything felt so natural with Harry. So real and so fun and it just made sense now. You’d always been in love with him and he’d always felt the same for you.
You both smiled as you started to laugh again, “That was… the best. I’m gonna need to buy more condoms, though. Because we are doing that again.”
Harry nodded and breathed out a laugh, “Yeah? You wanna fuck me again, Y/n? S’that mean you like me?”
You shook your head and rolled your eyes and clenched down over his cock, squeezing him tight and Harry gasped. You waited for a moment before you responded but then with a smirk on your face and a hand at his temple brushing his hair back you said, “I fucking love you.”
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AN: She's not edited but I wanted to get her out before the new year. I'll edit in the morning. HAPPY NEW YEAR!!
“Harry, I want you.” She looked at him with such vulnerability in her eyes. “All of you.”
Harry’s breath hitched when he heard those simple words. It feels like he’s been waiting his entire life for this and now here it is, he gets to have the girl of his dreams, all of her. “Stella, are you sure.” He double-checks.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life Harry,” she smiles up at him.
“Fuck,” he smiles and goes back in to kiss her. “How much did you have to drink tonight?” He wants to make sure she is capable of consenting to this.
“I’m not drunk, I’m fine. Trust me, I want this,” she smiles. “Are you sure you do though? How much did you have to drink?” Now she was the one checking on him.
“I’m good Stell.” He nods.
He goes back in to kiss her, this time completely drowning in his need to be with her. He kissed the corner of her mouth, then down her neck, below her ear. He sucks on her skin every now and then, leaving hickeys behind each time. He eventually kinds her spot, the spot that causes her to let out a moan.
They were both throbbing in desperate need for one another. Harry got lower and lower, kissing every inch of her skin that he could. It was hot and heavy, moans and pants were all that was heard. He slipped off her clothes and caressed her body gently but with passion while she fell into complete pleasure in front of him. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He saw her, all of her. Her body, her pleasure, her high. Everything.
He came back up to kiss her on the lips once more and she hummed out a grateful sigh before he then took off his own clothes, gently connecting them at the hips. It was like puzzle pieces connecting together for the first time, meant to be and perfect.
They had never experienced such pleasure like this before. It was like they were in a dream they never wanted to leave. Feeling each other in such a vulnerable way brought so many emotions out for them that made the experience even better. They tried to hold out for as long as possible but they could only last for so long. Eventually, they reached the absolute height of their pleasure and succumbed to their highs in unison.
When they both finished Harry slumped over top of Stella, both of them out of breath and sweaty. Despite how tired they both were, a lazy grin spread across their faces. Stella lifted her hand to lightly scratch his back, causing Harry to let out a light moan at the feeling.
“That was…” she trails off. She’s so happy that you can even hear it in her voice.
“Yeah…” Harry agrees, and they both let out a soft laugh. “How are you feeling?” He asks her.
“Mmm,” she sighs. “Good.” She nods. “Tired and good.” They sit in another moment of silence. “How are you?”
“Soooooo good,” he slurs, causing both of them to laugh. “Finally,” he murmurs, and Stella couldn’t agree with him more. Harry begins to peel himself from her. He puts his elbows on either side of her head and looks at her, admiring every inch of her face. “Hi.” He lazily smiles.
“Hi,” she giggles. He leans down to peck her lips a few times before getting up and walking to the opposite side of the room.
Stella sits up and watched him leave her, confused. She grabs the sheets and tossed them over herself, gripping them tightly. “Where are you going?” She asks, worriedly. You can even hear it in her voice.
Harry briskly turns around and sees how worried she looks. Did she think I was just gonna leave her? “I was just grabbing my boxers, don’t worry i’m not leaving.” Stella visibly relaxes. “Would you like me to grab your clothes as well?”
Stella shakes her head. “No, could you just grab my rob please? I need to use the bathroom.”
“Of course,” he says. Harry grabs her silk rob from the back of her door and hands it to her before putting on his own boxers. She moves to the edge of the bed to stand but quickly puts her hand on the nightstand to support herself while a quote groan leaves her lips.
Harry hears the noise and whips his head over in her direction to see her be in what looks to be pain. He rushes over to her side and helps her sit down. “What’s wrong?” He asks worriedly. Stella looks up to him and grins, shaking her head. Harry doesn’t understand her reaction. “Stella, is something wrong?”
“It’s nothing… I just-” She cuts herself off due to embarrassment. “I’m fine.” She goes to stand again but the same thing happens, just this time she clings to Harry.
“Stella what-” he cuts himself off in realization. “Oh… is it- did I…?” He trails off, but Stella knows what he means. “Are you sore?”
“Kinda, not really. My legs just feel sort of weak. I haven’t um… done that in awhile and I guess my body isn’t quite used to it,” she explains.
“Okay.” He nods understanding, “Here, let me help you to the bathroom.” He goes to help her but Stella stops him.
“No, I can do it myself, it’s fine.” Harry takes a step back, knowing she does in fact need help but there’s no fighting her on this. She takes a step forward but then shakes her head.
“I told you,” Harry mumbles, then picks her up to go to the bathroom.
“Fuck off.” She rolls her eyes. Harry sets her down on the toilet and then just takes a step back. Stella looks at him, wondering what he’s doing before she realizes he plans on staying. “Uh Harry?”
“What?” He tilts his head.
“Can you leave?” She asks.
“Wha- why?”
“Because I don’t feel like making eye contact while pissing,” she says, attitude laced in her voice.
“I can turn around, sorry.” He begins to turn around before Stella stops him.
“No Harry.” He turns back towards her confused. “Leave,” she laughs slightly, finding the whole scenario ridiculous. Harry leaves, she does what she needs to do and then calls Harry back because there is nothing nearby for her to use as support for her to get back.
Harry helps her up and she washes her hands before looking at her appearance. “I think I’m gonna have a shower,” she tells him. “Unless you wanted one too, you can go first if you’d like,” she offers.
Harry stares at her through the mirror for a second while he shifts his weight on either foot. “I uh..” he trails off. Stella can tell that he’s nervous but she doesn’t know why. “I was wondering if maybe you want to have a bath… together… or shower. Bath or shower. But if you don’t want to that’s okay. I mean we just had sex for the first time so if it’s too much it’s okay. We can just-” Stella cuts him off by taking one big stride towards him, cupping his cheeks, and kissing him.
“I love doing that,” she says, referring to the kiss while pulling away from him and looking into her eyes while she rubs her thumb back and forth along his cheeks. “And yes, I’d love that,” she whispers, a grin displayed across her face.
“Yeah?” He says with a goofy smile on his face and she nods. “Bath or shower?” He asks her.
“Well, based on the fact that you’re literally holding me up right now, I’d say bath.”
“Bath it is!” Harry brings her to sit on the toilet seat and then he walks over to the bathtub to start filling. Once it’s done we walks back over to Stella and bring her to stand up. Her legs don’t feel as weak so standing is much better now.
Stella stands against the bathroom counter and Harry stands infront of her. “Can I?” He asks as he puts his hand over the tie of her rob.
Stella immediately covers his hand with her own. “Wait,” she says quickly.
“What’s wrong? Did I do something?” he says quickly.
“N-no I just…” she trails off not knowing how to say it.
“Talk to me Stella, are you okay?” He dips his head down so he could see her.
“Yeah I’m okay I just…” she pausest,“I don’t want to take it off.”
“Okay…” he trails off. “That’s okay, um you do realize I was literally inside of you like… twenty minutes ago right?” He says.
“Harry!” Stella laughs and lightly pushes his chest.
“It’s true!” He laughs too. “You were just but ass naked infront of me, what’s different now?”
“I don’t before we were in the moment and it was darker, now everything’s different,” she sighs.
“I can get us back in the moment if you’d like-”
“Harry!” She laughs again.
“Okay, okay. Honestly though babe, you have absoultly zero reason to be inscure, especially in front of me okay? Seeing tonight was… I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a dream come true. Everything about you is perfect. It doesn’t matter the moment or the lighting, it’s all you Stella. It’s always been you.”
Stella blushed at his words.
“Would it make it better if I went first?” He asked and she nodded. He took her hands and placed them on his hips, right where the band of his boxers were. “I want you to take them off, okay?” He looked her right in the eyes.
“O-oh okay,” she stutters.
She wraps her fingers around the band of his boxers and grips it gentily. Harry nods, telling her to go ahead and take them off now. She doesn’t break eye contact while she slowly peels the boxers from his thighs.
Eventually the pair of boxers drop to the ground and Harry steps out of them. Stella straightens up so she’s not bent over anymore and keeps looking right at Harry, never anywhere else, not even his body.
“See, everything’s fine.” He smiles. “You’re turn now. Are you okay?” He asks her, only wanting her to be comfortable.
She nods, looking up to him. “Can I?” He asks, referring to taking off her robe. She nods again but Harry shakes his head. “Words Stella.”
“Yes, you can take it off,” she whispers and Harry smiles.
He pinches the end of the bow on her waist with his index and his thumb. He then gently pulls the end of the silk tie until one loop of the bow is gone. He does all of this while looking right at her, never once looking down. He repeats the same action but with the second loop until her rob is no longer tied up.
Harry goes to open in his mouth once more but Stella already knows what he’s going to say. “I’m good Harry,” she nods.
She is good but there is still some trepidation in her body but it isn’t because she doesn’t trust Harry, there isn’t anyone else she trusts more. It’s also not because she thinks he will judge her. It’s that she is constantly judging herself. She finds it just as hard to be physically vaunderable as she does emotionally. With this new dynamic between Harry and her aswell, she is nervous for what is unknown and unpredictable.
“Okay,” he whispers. He grips the sides of her robe and slowly removes it from her body. He brings it up so it unveils her shoulders, then her arms, then her hands, and soon enough it is completely off her body. Again, Harry, while tempted, never looks down at her body. “You ready?”
“Mhmm,” she hums. Harry takes her hand and leads her to the bath. He gets in first but doesn’t sit down, instead her remains standing at helps her in the tub they’re standing together. Harry sits down on one side of the tub and she sits down on the opposite.
They sit in silence for a few moments, just enjoying each other’s presence. Her finger swirls around the bubbles lightly while she lets her mind wander. She thinks about the fact that she just had sex with her best friend and that she is now naked in a bathtub with him. A smile forms on her face a small chuckle leaves her lips.
The sound has Harry turning to look at her, the sound causing a smile of his own. “What?” He chuckles.
“Nothing,” she shakes her head but never gets rid of that small smile.
“No, tell me.” He grabs her ankles and pulls them so that she is closer to him.
The sudden movement has her tipping back with a sound that was created from her wet skin gliding across the tub. She falls back into the water while laughing before she quickly comes back up from beneath the surface.
“Asshole,” she grumbles. She wipes her eyes that once had soap on them to see Harry stifling a laugh. “This isn’t funny,” she tells him, but the smile on her face says differently.
“You got a little something.” He points at his own face, which on pisses her off more so she grabs a hand full of bubbles and blows them at him.
“You got a little something.” She mocks.
“You little.” He grabs her ankles again, much more gentle this time though, and pulls her closer to him so he can kiss her. Harry’s legs are spread and she sits between them while her legs rest just on top of his hips. They continue to make out for a moment longer before he pulls away. “What were you smiling about before?”
“Just how crazy this all is,” she nearly whispers.
“Good crazy? Or bad crazy?” He asks, wanting to know what she meant but accidentally sounding a little insecure.
“Good crazy, definitely good crazy.” She smiles. “I just- I can’t believe everything that just happened. I’m happy, really happy.”
“I’m happy too Stella, believe me.”
“So…” she traces some of his tattoos while she speaks, “you don’t regret any of this then?” Now she was the one sounding insecure.
“I’m naked in a bath with you Stella,” he tells her. “Absolutely not. There is no way in hell that I could ever regret tonight,” he tells her honestly. “No regrets for you right?” He checks in.
“No regrets, never with you Harry,” she reassures him.
“Good. Good, good,” he says, more to himself than Stella though. “Was good for you too, you could hardly walk.” He smirks.
“Oh shut up.” She rolls her eyes. They laugh for a moment together before it slowly dies out. “Wait, what time is it?!” She nearly shouts.
“Uh… last time I checked it was about a quarter after twelve.”
Stella smiles and goes in for a kiss. “Merry Christms!”
“Merry Christmas darling.” He kisses her back.
They once again, make out for a bit before pulling away from one another. “It doesn’t even feel weird does it?” She says, referring to the night as a whole.
“It doesn’t. It feels like this was meant to happen,” he agrees with her. They sit and chat for a little while longer before Harry can see the goosebumps growing on Stella’s arms. “Common, you’re cold let’s go to bed.”
They both stand up, Harry gets out first and then he helps Stella out by holding her hand. He quickly grabs them both towels and wraps Stella’s around her and then rubs her arms to try and warm her up. They go back into the bedroom, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind but they don’t care. Harry goes into his own suitcase while Stella stands there nearly shivering, too cold to find her own clothes.
“Here,” Harry says, handing her a shirt and boxers. She thanks him before turning around and discarding her towel. Harry understands her need for privacy and turns himself around as well. They both get dressed from opposite sides of the room.
At the same time, they turn back around and realize they need to sort out the sleeping arrangement, not that there is much to figure out. “Do you wanna… sleep with me tonight?” She asks sheepishly.
“Wouldn’t want it any other way.” He smiles.
They both get under the covers, and this time, they have no shame in cuddling. Stella curls up against his chest and Harry wraps his arms around her. Both of them feeling safer than ever in each other’s embrace.
—
Stella is the first to wake up between the pair. She kisses Harry lightly all over his face until he wakes up, which he does quite quickly. “Mmm, good morning,” he says with his tired morning voice.
“Good morning, Merry Christmas,” she whispers.
“Merry Christmas.” Harry goes in to kiss her lips before she hastily moves away. Harry once closed eyes open quickly to see her covering her mouth. “What? What’s wrong?”
“I have morning breath,” she says from behind her hand.
“So?” Harry asks, confused.
“So you can’t kiss me.” She connects the dots for him.
“I don’t care about morning breath,” he tells her.
“I do, so no kissing until our teeth are brushed.” Harry groans and quickly gets up out of bed and bends over to pick up Stella and throw her over his shoulder, knowing that she won’t get up if he doesn’t. “What are you doing?” She laughs.
“We’re brushing our teeth.”
Harry brings them into the bathroom and sets Stella down on the counter. He grabs her toothbrush and passes it to her and then puts toothpaste on both of their brushes. They brush their teeth quickly but effectively. “Can I kiss you now?” He asks.
Instead of responding Stella grabs his cheeks to pull him closer and kisses him. They kiss for a while before Stella pulls away. “I got you something,” she smiles with her swollen lips.
“You did?” Harry says, surprised. Stella nods while suppressing a smile by biting her bottom lip. “I got you something too.”
“You did?!” She says surprised and very clearly excited.
“Yeah, it’s in my suitcase.” Stella hops off the counter and grabs his hands, pulling him towards their brand new tree in the living room and sits him down. “We never finished decorating,” Harry points out.
“Yeah…” she sighs, but it wasn’t a regretful sigh, it was a happy one. They both stare at the tree, clearly remembering the memories that took place there last night. “Yeah…” she sighs again with a smile.
“I’ll be right back, let me go grab your present,” he tells her before leaving the room. Stella quickly goes and grabs his present as well and then they meet back up in the living room on the couch.
“Open mine first.” She smiles, extending her arms to Harry with the present in his hands.
“Okay,” he chuckles taking the present. He slowly begins to unwrap the present
*********
“Now open yours,” Harry says, handing her her own present that was hiding behind the couch.
“Woah this is big,” she said, holding the large present and then setting it down on her lap.
“That’s what she said,” Harry whispered, which made Stella look at him, the two then started bursting out laughing.
“We’re so stupid,” she chuckles, shaking her head.
She then goes back to opening the very large, flat, present. She rips open the present very quickly and once her brain registers what it is, she look over to Harry with tears in her eyes. “Harry…” she nearly whispers.
“Keep opening it,” he tells her, nodding his head in the direction to the present.
She keeps opening the present before she lets out a gasp. “Harry, how did you.- what-“
In front of her was a glass enclosed Prince poster, but it wasn’t just any poster, it was a signed one. Stella absolutely loves Prince and she’s always been a huge fan of his. For as long as Harry can remember Prince has been one of Stella’s biggest idols. He remembers when Prince passed away, it was one of the few times Stella actually cried in front of him.
“Jeff knows a person, who knows a person, who knows a person, who was privately selling this,” Harry explains. Stella places the present beside her and then throws her arms over Harry’s neck, giving him a huge hug and pulling him down in the process. “I take it you like the present then?” He jokes.
Stella pulls away and looks at him in disbelief. “Like it? Harry I can’t even begin to explain how much I love this present. Thank you so much. Fuck, thank you.”
“Of course, I’m glad you like it.”
“You know, I was quite disappointed when I found out we wouldn’t be going home but this has been my favourite Christmas by far. Thank you Harry. You are what made it special.”
“I’ve been wanting to kiss you since I was 16. This Christmas was the best Christmas of my entire life, thank you for making it so special.”
The couple spent the rest of the day lounging around in Harry’s shirts and boxers. Having this newfound freedom in getting to kiss one another was a dream come true for both of them and they definitely spent all day in that dream.
Over the next few days they had made a new unspoken goal of trying fuck on every surface in Stella’s apartment, and they more or less achieved that goal.
They definitely procrastinated the conversation of what their relationship now is but when they did, a month later, they decided to officially date and be in a romantic relationship.
As the morning sun rose into the sky, the pair were sound asleep, warm under the covers and unknowingly wrapped in each other. They had the best sleep either of them had in a long time, so well that one may mistake their night’s rest for a coma due to how silent they were. Little did the pair know that throughout the night they had slowly but surely gotten closer and closer to one another until eventually, they were cuddling.
One of Harry’s arms was underneath her neck while the other was wrapped around her waist as she nuzzled into his chest. They had slept like this for the majority of the night, neither of them having any clue about it as it was a subconscious decision.
As Stella moves ever so slightly in her sleep, trying to get more comfortable, she lifts her leg and then drapes it over Harry, accidentally brushing against his crotch and placing it there. She had no idea what she had done though, she was only trying to get more comfortable.
The newly added pressure on his erect crotch causes Harry to let out a rather loud groan in his sleep. The loud sound woke the both of them up and the pair of friends then found themselves shooting their eyes open and realizing the position they are in.
The second it clicks in their minds that they are cuddling in a very intimate position they are pulling away from one another and jumping out of bed. They stand on either side of the bed and stare at each other from a distance, wide-eyed and in shock.
Stella looked at the very apparent bulge in Harry’s pants and then back to him, then back down at his crotch. “Stella!” He shouted to get her to stop looking, which caused her to flinch and quickly look at his eyes again.
“What!?” She shouted in stress.
“Stop that!” He replied.
The pair hold eye contact for a few moments before realizing that they need to say something. “I’ll uh… go have a shower,” Stella said.
“Right yeah, good idea.” He nodded. “And I’ll…” he thought of what he would do, “make breakfast!” He nearly shouted once the idea came to him.
“Okay so…” Stella trailed off, pointing behind her to where the bathroom is, indicating that that is where she’ll be.
“Yeah…” he says, and then they both scurry off to their activities.
Stella stood in the shower rethinking everything and convincing herself that everything is okay. Harry put his hands on the edge of the kitchen counter and dangled his head in frustration while also trying to calm himself down.
They hadn’t ever cuddled like before which is what was so weird for the two of them. Yeah sure there was the gentle head on the shoulder or a prolonged hug, but never something like that. There was nuzzling and groaning and bulges, which was very intimate for the two of them.
They both wondered why. Why they did that, why they cuddled, why their subconscious minds found sanctuary in one another in such an intimate way. And why do they feel this way now? This sudden closeness. Had things had changed between them? They both felt that small shift but both were in denial. It was like waking up from a weird dream, it sticks with you all day and you get sudden flashbacks.
Stella had finished her shower and gotten ready quickly, she walked out of her room to find Harry putting eggs onto a plate. She slipped into the chair that faced the counter island and waited for Harry to sit down next to her. He gave them both their plates of food, eggs, toast, and bacon, and then sat down beside Stella. “Thanks,” she had mumbled when Harry gave her her food, to which he just smiled and nodded.
Silence crept between them, words begging to be said but the embarrassment they shared held them back. Could they just talk as if nothing happened? Should they talk about what happened? How do the other feel about what happened? Am I overreacting? They both thought all of these things, but the anxious questioning got to be too much for Stella so she finally talked.
“Okay what the fuck, what happened? Are we okay?” She said, setting down her fork and looking over to him.
Harry was shocked that she had spoken and it was evident on his face. He brought his fisted hand up to his mouth and coughed, trying to ease some of the tension in his body. “Uh… yeah, we’re okay,” he said. “Do you think we’re okay?” He asked her in return, wanting to gage how she is feeling about all of this.
“Yeah, yeah we’re um… good. Let’s just pretend nothing happened,” she suggested.
“Okay perfect,” he agreed, and they went back to eating in silence until a certain topic crossed his mind. “Uh… you do know that just… happens, right?” He said, referring to the obvious hard-on he woke up with.
Stella furrowed her brows, not understanding what he was talking about. “You know… morning wood,” he said, looking down at his crotch to inform her. When he did that her brows shot up in realization. “It happens, I can’t control it. It’s just blood flow I guess.”
“Ohhhhhhhhh,” Stella said, feeling a lot better knowing that she wasn’t the one to give her best friend a boner. “Nice to know.”
They continued to eat in silence, both getting lost in their own heads.
Harry couldn’t help but think about the last 24 hours and what happened with Stella and her mom last night. He thinks about how he never knew their relationship was so terrible and broken and continues to feel bad for never being there for her in that aspect.
He thought about when he left home when he was 16 and how different she started acting, was it because of her mom?
His leaving meant she was at home a lot more, meaning she was her mom a lot more as well. He thought about the first time he came home since joining the band and how different she acted, especially her sudden hatred of her name… did her mom take part in that? She had always been quite spontaneous but her not liking her name all of a sudden felt different. It didn’t feel like it was something light-hearted and cool; like her dying her hair all the time. Her name change felt serious.
“Stella, can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer,” he spoke, causing Stella to look at him, then nodding in response to his question. “You know when I came home from tour for the first time and we were sat on your roof and you changed your name?” She nodded, “You always said it was because you just didn’t like it but… was there a real reason?”
She looked at him in an expression that one might read as shock. It had been 10 years and he’s finally asking… how long had he thought this… and why now, she wondered. “Um…” she swallowed, “yeah I guess,” she shrugged, not elaborating.
Harry realized she wasn’t going to continue so he decided to ask instead. “Can you tell me the reason?” He asked sheepishly.
She sighed and thought about telling him. She was worried about what he may think, but now that he knows about her mom, she felt a bit better about opening up a bit more.
“I think… I think I started to attach my name to my mom saying it, which was usually when she was mad so… I started hating it,” she said nervously, only briefly looking to Harry to catch his expression, which was only encouraging her to feel comfortable being open with him. “You and her were also the only ones to really say it. The rest of my family would just call me Lindes, so when you left it was just my mom saying and… I don’t know, it just became a bad thing for me to hear.”
“I’m sorry Stella,” he said.
“It’s okay, it’s whatever.”
“No it’s not Stella, it’s your feelings and it’s okay to have them. It’s what makes us human.” He reached over and rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb, something he does quite often now in hopes to comfort her, which it always does.
“Okay… thanks,” She said, not knowing how to deal with the heart-to-heart. “Now enough of the sappy shit, what are we gonna do today?” She said in desperate need of a subject change.
—
Hours later the pair found themselves doing one of the things they loved most, songwriting. They were quite the duo and could write together perfectly. Just like everything else in life they fit together like a puzzle piece, Harry did the lyrics while Stella did most of the melody, it was how they always worked.
They first began writing together when Harry had asked her to join the band in 2016. Harry had written a few songs, all of which he thought was shit and Stella had tried her go at it as well while in studying in college and realized that she actually really enjoys it, although the melody is what she’s really good at and her favourite part as well.
When Harry asked her to join the band, naturally they tried to write together and realized that they were a good team. With Harry having a natural connection to lyrics, and Stella melody, they worked together seamlessly. Ever since the discovery of their songwriting chemistry then they had written almost every song together.
They were always quite open when writing together too… well, Harry more than Stella, but she always tried.
Being stuck with Harry all day after what happened this morning and writing with him made her remember the day they wrote Cherry and she suddenly was analyzing things all over again but told herself that now is not the time to be thinking of that and pushed it to the side.
—
3 Years Ago
The studio was filled with Mitch, Harry, Stella, Jeff Bhasker, and a few others. Harry wasn’t in the mood to write tonight but Stella forced him anyways, knowing that ever since the break up he’s barely gotten out of bed and even just going to the studio and being surrounded by music would be good for him; whether he was writing or not.
Stella and Harry had walked in the room and immediately everyone’s back’s had straightened right up and their eyebrows lifted in surprise, not expecting Harry to actually show up, especially looking as terrible as he did. He looked tired, it was evident that despite him not getting out of bed, he had barely slept. His cheeks had also sunken in a bit due to his lack of eating from his loss of appetite.
Everyone’s heart broke for him, but especially Stella’s. She hated seeing him so upset. Everyone knew how much Harry loved his now ex-girlfriend, but Stella was the one who really saw it first hand. She was so protective over Harry and always has been that ever since the breakup she finds herself having to physically restrain herself from calling his ex-girlfriend or just showing up at her house and yelling at her for hurting him the way she did. She knows Harry wouldn’t want that though, which is the only reason she hasn’t done it yet.
Everyone asked him how he is, which eventually led to him being open and honest about nearly everything. When you write with the same close-knit people nearly every day for weeks straight and create such a safe place for one another, opening up in this way becomes natural. Stella always loved that about Harry, how vulnerable and emotional he was, something about her struggling with that same thing made her admire Harry even more in that aspect.
Harry talking about the break-up and how he was feeling eventually led to the writing of Cherry, which was honestly a difficult song for Stella to listen to. She would never admit this but she always felt a sense of jealously when Harry was with her, of course, she could never identify the emotion as that though.
Listening to Harry talk about how in love he was with this other woman was nearly gut-wrenching for her, and then hearing how she broke his heart… she was trying so hard to hold back tears. She’s always had a hard time identifying her emotions and the ones she had for Harry always fell in this weird grey area. The truth was that the feeling she felt for Harry turned from platonic to romantic over time without her ever really realizing it.
She watched him pour his heart and soul into this song, singing about how much he missed her and she began to feel that heartbreak she was getting overly familiar with. She felt the air get thick, her stomach turn and her eyes sinuses got hot. It was then that she realized that maybe… she liked him in a less-friendly way than she ever thought.
She excused herself for a moment over the sudden realization, saying she needed water when in reality, she needed to collect herself before her tears spilled over. She walked into the hall and rested against the wall, closing her eyes and analyzing her emotions. She stood and thought about all the times she felt like this when she saw Harry with another girl and realized that she was jealous this entire time. She then thought about what that could mean… does she like Harry? No way… their friends, always have been… you aren’t supposed to fall for your best friend!
She ended up shoving her feeling back inside, convincing herself that she wasn’t jealous of him per se but jealous of what they had. She always wanted a love like that, granted she wanted that love to be with Harry but convinced herself the opposite.
—
8:37 pm, Present Day
They had finished eating dinner about an hour ago and were lounging around the apartment trying to find something to do. Stella had turned around resting against the back of the couch watching the snowfall to pass the time, and while that kept her busy for a total of 4 minutes, she was bored again.
“Harry I’m boreeeeeed,” she whined like a two-year-old tugging on their mom’s pant leg in a grocery store.
“What would you like me to do about that,” he said, lifting his eyes up from his book.
“Entertain me.” She threw her hands up with a smile.
One thing that always cured her boredom was annoying Harry, and he knew that very well, which now meant he was on the haunt to do anything that will entertain his best friend. He looked around, trying to find something to do and spotted the Christmas tree. “We never finished… or I guess even started decorating the Christmas tree yesterday, wanna do that?” He suggested and Stella’s eyes lit up with happiness and excitement.
“Yes! Perfect idea, nice thinking Harry,” she said, getting up to grab the box of decorations.
She had the box of decorations open and set beside the Christmas tree while Harry picked out a record for them to listen to. The vinyl was spinning and red wine was now being poured for the both of them. “Ready?” Harry asked her, setting the wine down on the coffee table.
“Yep!” She said, bending down to pick up an ornament and hang it up on the tree.
There was a moment of silence between them before Harry broke it. “I miss doing this with mum,” Harry murmured while hanging up his first bulb opposite to Stella.
“I miss doing this with your mum too,” she spoke with a smile.
Stella would always decorate the tree with her own family while Harry would help, and when Harry and his family decorated their own Anne always invited her over.
She enjoyed decorating their tree much more than she did her own. Harry never noticed but her mom would always complain where she placed each ornament and would usually end up changing them behind her back but Stella always noticed. Anne on the other hand let her do whatever she wanted, which made decorating the tree and much better experience at Harry’s house.
Harry understands the meaning behind Stella’s words now. He knows she’s not just agreeing with him but stating that she misses decorating with Anne rather than at her own home.
“We’ll see them soon, don’t worry,” Harry comforts her.
“Yeah.. yeah you’re right. I’m glad I’m at least here with you,” she spoke, looking him in the eyes.
“Me too, no one else I would rather be stuck with.” He smiles sincerely.
Stella walks to the coffee table to have a sip of her wine, then she walks further back so she can get a better look at the tree. “Looks good.” She smiles.
“It’s not done yet, come back here,” he pulls her, causing her to nearly spill her wine.
“Harry,” she yelped.
“Stop screaming,” he laughed.
“You almost spilled my wine.” She points out
“No, you almost spilled your wine,” he chuckled, proving her wrong.
“Oh shut it.” She rolled her eyes.
They continued to decorate in verbal silence for the next 20 minutes, concentrating on decorating the tree while the hum of Christmas music filled the air. “What’s your favourite Christmas memory?” Stella randomly asked him.
He looked at her for a moment, processing her random question before answering it. “I think it was when I was 7. All I wanted for Christmas was a bike, I wouldn’t stop talking about it. Then on Christmas morning, I ran downstairs with Gemma and I saw the bike from Santa. We opened all our presents and whatnot and then I ran outside to ride my bike. My family came out to watch me, even though it was freezing out. As soon as I got on it and started riding it down the street snow started falling and I genuinely felt like I was in a movie. I’ll never forget it.” He smiled and Stella found herself smiling as well. “What’s your favourite memory?”
“When I was 10 and I got my first electric guitar,” She told him, not even having to take a moment to think of it. “My mom was so against it but my dad got it for me anyway. I spent all day playing it until my fingers literally bled. It was the best day ever.” She smiled.
“Was it the red and white one,” He asked, remembering when he went over to her house for the first time and she immediately showed him her new guitar and he was thoroughly impressed by her self-taught skills.
“Yeah! You remember that?” She asked in shock.
“Of course,” he said. They held eye contact for a moment while the song that was spinning on the record player faded out another came on, causing Stella to eagerly jump at the sound of it.
“Oh! I love this song,” Stella shouted.
He loved her enthusiasm and smiled. “Then let’s dance,” he said. He quickly put up the ornament that he was holding and then held out his hand for Stella to take. She smiled and took his hand. Harry lead her out into the center of the living room, took her hand and raised it up so that he could spin her to the tune of the song.
She giggled as she spun while her head began to feel quite dizzy, “Harry,” she laughed, asking him to stop. “Harry, I’m gonna fall,” she giggled again. When Harry stopped spinning her she fell into him abruptly. Stella then looked up at him, just how she did yesterday when she fell in the storage room, but this time instead of quickly pulling away, she hugged him and rested her head on his chest. Harry felt all warm inside by this action and hugged her back. Together they swayed in the center of the living room.
They’ve danced together before, but never like this. They didn’t feel weird or odd this time even though there was, of course, the trepidation that followed this action, but the act of indulging in this feeling that they’ve been craving for so long made all of the current anxious worries worth it.
They couldn’t let go of each other even if they wanted to. They felt so safe with one another, the same way they did last night but this time it was their conscious minds that found refuge in one another. They continued to sway back and forth while her head lay on his chest.
She could hear his heart beating and when she began to think about it, it was beating quite fast. She pulled her head from his chest, the sudden loss of warmth caused Harry to look down at her. “Why’s your heart beating so fast?” She whispered.
Harry didn’t know how to answer her. The answer held too much truth, but he couldn’t continue to lie to her. It was getting harder and harder every day to continue to pretend that he just likes her as a friend. Lying to her would kill him inside, but telling her the truth could risk it all. “I wish I could tell you,” he whispered to her.
“Why can’t you?” She blinked. Such a simple, normal action, but one that made his stomach feel like a swarm of butterflies were just released inside of him.
“I’m scared,” He said as looked between either of her eyes, her lips catching his gaze as he did.
“Can you… show me then?” She asked innocently.
“Can I?” He questioned back, asking for permission. It was like his mouth had a mind of its own. Every time he spoke his mind had let the big red alarm siren, saying he had said too much, but he continued to ignore it.
Stella nodded her head, now it was her looking back and forth between his eyes, then his lips. Harry tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear as he was having a battle inside his own mind, not wanting to fuck things up between the two of them. Stella could tell he struggling, but let him work himself through it, knowing that that is exactly what he needed.
She knew what he was thinking as she was thinking it herself… what if this changes everything? But that was the thing… what if it does change everything, what if they can finally feel what they have been feeling for so long. What if the change that is bound to come is the most positive change possible? That thought alone had a swirl of excitement surge through Stella.
Stella wasn’t sure why she was so ready. Just hours ago she was working herself up over her possible feeling for him again, but now she’s never felt more confident or sure of anything in her life. Harry was the one aspect of her life that confused her more than anything, but right now she knows exactly what she wants.
Harry had wanted this more than he ever thought. Years and years of waiting, but he couldn’t help but think of Stella. What if she regrets this? What if this changes everything and things are awkward? But then his mind followed the same path as Stella’s and he too had that swirl of excitement.
He took a deep inhale, closed his eyes and began to duck his head closer to her. Stella closed her eyes as their lips got closer, to the point where they were only millimetres apart… until they weren’t. The time between their lips apart and then touching felt like years, but then it just… happened. Their lips touched and as cliche as it is, it felt like fireworks had exploded between them.
Harry took a firm hold of her jaw while her arms draped around the back of his neck. There was a sense of hesitation between the two of them as if they were afraid to do something wrong. The kiss was gentle and soft, their lips moving against one another like a figure skater’s blade on ice; graceful and elegant.
Their noses brushed and their lips continued to mould into one another’s, causing a smile to form upon their lips. They broke apart and a small laugh was shared between to two of them. “What?” Harry chuckled.
“Nothing,” she shook her head with the biggest smile on her lips.
“Why are you so smiley?” He tilted his head to the side and asked the question, even though he had a big old grin himself.
“I’m just happy,” she said looking into his eyes. They shared a moment of silence but understanding before they sucked in a deep breath and reconnected their lips once again. This time they felt more confident though, there was a bit more desperation between the two of them, it was special. They both knew that they weren’t taking any risk this time, this is exactly what the other person wants and they reish in it.
Harry pecked her top lip, then her bottom, then both before their lips parted ever so slightly and Harry took the opportunity to slip his tongue past her lips. The action had Stella letting the quiet whine, but a whine nonetheless. The noise had Harry kissing her back even harder, the passion between the two rising by the second. The both of them had barely taken a single breath since their lips first made contact but they didn’t care, the lack of oxygen and pure chemistry between them only fulled the fire.
Stella moved her hands so she now had a hold of Harry’s hair. As things rose between the two of them Stella subconsciously began to hold his hair tighter. Harry’s brows furrowed with both of them were panting and when she tightened her grip on his hair the whine was let out from the back of his throat.
“Stella,” he panted.
“Harry,” she said back.
They couldn’t bear to pull away from each other, they would do anything to get closer. Harry bent over to get a hold of her thighs and when he did she jumped and wrapped her legs around his torso. Harry walked them both into her bedroom, trying his best not to bump into anything as he does.
He laid her down on the bed and went over top of her so his knee rested between her legs. He pulled away to look at her for a brief moment, checking to see how she was doing and if she regretted what’s happening between them. “Is this okay?” He asked her as their making out gets more intense. Stella nodded but that wasn’t good enough for Harry. “I need to hear you say it,” he said to her.
“Yes,” she panted. “Of course.” With those simple words, Harry ducked back down to kiss her again. This time, teeth were clashing together lips were being nibbled, and slight moans were exchanged. The passion between them rose intensely. Harry had held on to her hip with one hand while the other caressed the side of her rib cage. Stella, in desperation, found her holding on to Harry’s back, doing anything she could to get closer to him.
She then reached away from Harry’s back and cupped his cheeks to pull him away so she could speak. Harry took the action the wrong way for a moment and was searching her face for regret once more before Stella spoke. “Harry, I want you.” She looked at him with such vulnerability in her eyes. “All of you.”
Stella and Harry have been friends for as long as they can remember. They met in fourth grade when Harry and her were sitting beside one another in science class. The teacher gave them both a beaker and was told specifically to be very careful. Unfortunately, things did not go as planned. Harry, being the clutz he is, had accidentally knocked his beaker over so it broke and shattered on the floor between them. The sound of the glass hitting the floor brought silence to the room, and without another thought, Stella had quickly pushed her beaker over to Harry so it would look like she was the one to break it instead of Harry.
The teacher came rushing over to scold whoever broke the glass. Harry was shocked that someone he had never even talked to would do such a thing for him. The teacher had practically yelled at Stella, but she didn't care. That's why she did it in the first place. She knew the teacher's yelling and anger would upset Harry so she took the blame. Harry looked at her dumbfounded, growing guilter and guilter by the second that she had to go through this because of something he did. When the teacher left after giving her a new beaker, Harry turned to her and asked why she did that.
"Why'd you do that? You don't even know me."
She stared at Harry for a moment and shrugged.
"Eh, why not?"
From there on out, they were best friends and the perfect pair. Whenever Harry got picked on Stella was there to stick up for him. She would take a busted lip or black eye from Harry's bullies if it meant Harry didn't have to. Harry was always there for her as well. Whenever Stella was upset, or alone, Harry was right by her side, even if she didn't want him to be. It didn't matter if he was studying for an exam, out with his family, or sleeping, he would drop everything to make sure that girl was okay. Needless to say, they've been joint by the hip since the age of nine.
When Stella found her date to the prom making out with some girl in the bathroom, Harry was her shoulder to cry on.
When Harry was getting cornered by bullies again, Stella stepped in and stuck up for him.
When Stella was wearing white pants and had gotten her first period, Harry gave her his sweater to tie around her waist and later came to her house with a box of chocolate.
When Harry was nervous for his X-Factor audition, Stella stayed up with him all night, helping him practice for the big day.
The pair were a set of twin flames.
And they still are to this day.
Harry and Stella are about to fly home to Manchester for the holidays to see their family today. They haven't been home in months so needless to say, they're very excited. They're staying in New York because that was where Harry's last tour date was and because Stella really wanted to be in New York throughout the holidays and with the both of them being so close, Harry did the same. He had no reason to go back to LA for two weeks when he could just stay in his penthouse living in the same city as his best friend.
"Stella, come on! We're gonna be late!" Harry shouted from the living room of her apartment. Their flight was at 3:30 and it was currently 2:30. With traffic, security, possible fans or paparazzi, they really should have left half an hour ago.
"Oh shut up, I'm almost done. If you wanted to be on time you should have told me to leave half an hour ago so I would really be done by now." It's true, Harry knew better than to expect her to be on time. That girl would be late to her own funeral.
"Stella!"
"Harry!" She mocked.
Harry looked outside the window to pass the time and saw the snow falling so heavily that he could barely see the building across the street. Harry got a sick feeling in his stomach when seeing the downpour of the frozen snow and got increasingly worried. Harry quickly grabbed the remote that was sitting on the coffee table and turned on the TV, then flicking to the news channel.
"Due to recent weather conditions, all flights set for departure between 2:00 pm today and midnight on the 28th of December will be cancelled..."
Harry was on the edge of his seat while receiving such news while Stella finally walked out of her bedroom. "You couldn't wait five minutes? You really had to turn on the TV? I-"
"Shhhhh," Harry cut her off quickly. Stella stopped strolling her suitcase and went over to the couch to sit beside Harry and see what he was staring at.
"All roads will be closed as well due to the heavy snowfall. Please, do not leave your homes unless absolutely necessary..."
"What?" Stella whispered, realizing she would be stuck in New York for Christmas.
"Our flights are cancelled Stell, there's a massive snowstorm," Harry tells her while she looks outside the window, confirming what he said. They both felt unbelievably disappointed. They wouldn't be going home for the holidays. They wouldn't see their family. And Christmas wouldn't be the same.
"Fuck," Stella says.
"Yeah."
"I knew I should have booked the earlier flight. Fuck, this is all my fault," Stella mumbles. "I'm so sorry Harry."
"No it's not Stella, you know that. Don't do that to yourself. You're not mother nature, you don't control the weather," Harry says to her sternly but calmly.
"Right..." she says, not convinced but pushing her emotions to the side to deal with the current issue at hand. "So the roads are closed... you wanna stay here then?"
"Is that... okay with you?" He asks.
"Yeah Harry, of course." She nods. "I'm not gonna lie though, I kind of wishing we were stuck at your place instead of mine," she laughs, Harry joining in just after.
Harry lived farther uptown than Lindsey did. While yes, the two were joint at the hip, they by no means lived together. Harry lived in a penthouse while Lindsey lived in just an average-sized apartment. She had a place in LA, New York, and London, just like Harry... but her homes were more average-sized. She wanted a more homey feel and didn't want a giant house anyways.
"Fuck, what are we gonna do?" Stella sighs.
"Common Stell, we can do it. It won't be that bad," he says while trying to cheer her up. "It will be so cozy. We can light those candles you love, there's wine, we can watch movies!."
Stella sighs, processing his words. "Yeah you're right," she agrees. "Wait I don't even have a tree," she groans.
"You had one last year..."
"Yeah but that one was real so it died," she explains.
"But you were allergic to it so after Christmas you bought a new one because they were on sale," he reminds her.
"Oh yeah!" She nearly yells in excitement. "Okay, so it's in storage then.."
"Let's go get it." Harry claps his hands and grabs her keys so that they can go down to the storage unit. They walk out the door together and take the elevator all the way down to the basement where her storage room is.
"Fuck I hate it down here," she says. "It's so eerie and cold." She crossed her arms for both comfort and warmth.
Harry wraps an arm around her and rubs her arm in an effort to warm her up. "We'll be quick." They find her storage room and stop to see an absolute mess. "So uh..."
"It's a mess, I know." She rolls her eyes. "I haven't been down here in a while so hopefully it's near the front."
"... Okay well..." Harry says before they get to searching.
The pair begin searching the storage room for the box that holds the Christmas tree. After nearly twenty minutes of trying to even get a foot inside the room, they eventually find the box.
"Harry! I found it!" Stella shouts. "Oh! Ow," she says after a loud crash
He rushes over to find her completely trapped between a bike, about 10 bins, the Christmas tree box, and a cotton candy machine. "Wow, I never knew you were a hoarder..." he teases.
"Oh shut up and help me." She reaches out her hand and Harry takes it, pulling her up but underestimating his strength and sending her toppling the other way, only this time she falls into his chest.
Her hands rest on his chest to allow her to stabilize herself after the sudden movement and her eyes stay trained on the area between my thumbs. Once her ears can process his voice she slowly looks up at him to see his brows furrowed and eyes full of concern. When she finally comes back to her senses, she pulls away from Harry so they're no longer touching.
"I- sorry I just..." she rambles, not making eye contact with Harry and tucking her hair behind her ears.
"No uh, it's... uh... the tree!" Harry suddenly shouted out, changing the subject.
"Yes! The tree! I found it!" She says, nearly jumping.
"Great so uh... how do we get it out?"
It took the pair forty-five minutes to get the Christmas tree from her storage room to the front door of her apartment. When they finally got inside the apartment Stella walked over to the couch and threw herself on top of it. "Ah, that was so hard," she sighed while Harry stood in the doorway.
"You barely held it at all..." Harry chuckled to himself
"Oh please," she rolled her eyes. "I held plenty."
"Mhm..." Harry said, bringing the tree from the doorway to the living room. "Gonna help me with this or..."
"What if you set it up and then we can decorate together?" She said staring at him from the couch.
"Why am I surprised?" He says to himself. Harry begins to set up the Christmas tree while Stella micro-manages him from the couch.
"Over to the left a little? No, the other left... ah now the right..."
"Stell, why don't you just get up and do it?" Harry sighs.
"Because I don't want to..." It takes them only 10 more minutes to have it set up perfectly. Just as they were about to start decorating, Stella's phone began to ring. When she picked up her phone and saw the caller ID she was overcome with a wave of anxiety "Fuck," she said. She didn't mean for Harry to hear her curse, but he did and was immediately concerned.
"What's wrong?" He asked, making his way over to her and sitting on the couch.
"My mom's calling," she mumbled. Harry knew her mom and she had a tough relationship, but despite them being best friends, she's never told him the true extent of it.
"Oh? Um... I mean she's probably wondering where you are so..."
"Yeah, I should answer, I know. I'll be right back," she says, taking the call and walking into her bedroom. "Hey mom..." she says, trying not to sound overly anxious over the wrath that was bound to come.
"Lindsey..." she begins and Stella cringes at the sound of her first name. "Why did you not tell me your flight was cancelled? Do you think it's acceptable to not only not come home for Christmas... but not even tell me about it?"
"Mom I'm sorry for not telling you but it's not my fault the flight was cancelled." She tells her mom the same thing Harry told her only moments prior, whether she believes it or not is another question. "There's a snowstorm outside and I-"
"I told you to book a flight for 9 am, but you and your lazy ass didn't want to get up then. How is there fair to me Lindsey? I do so much for you and you can't even come home for Christmas? Jesus I mean I knew you're selfish but I didn't think you were this self-centred to just not come home for Christmas." Stella begins to feel her eyes burn with tears.
"Mom..."
"No Lindsey, listen to me. It is not fair to your siblings, your nieces and nephews, me. I mean after all that we do for you..." She sighs.
Stella felt rage within her body. Her chest. Her hands. Her mind. Her voice.
All that they do... all that she does? Words could not even begin to explain how wrong and hurtful that sentence is to Stella. "What?" Stella whispers, but it wasn't soft. No, it was filled with anger, hurt, sorrow. It was the kind of whisper that could make fear strike through one's body. Yelling when mad was one thing but whispering. Whisper shows the last bit of control of your body has, as if all it can do at that moment is whisper because all other energy is spent on anger.
"What do you mean 'what' Lindsey? We gave you a roof over your head, a family, life. I mean I raised you, took you to all those guitar lessons and other useless shit... and never once have you shown any kind of appreciation."
"Useless? Mom those lessons are what has given me my career. The career that has put your two youngest children through college, has given your oldest a wedding and you a house! I gave you a roof over your head mom. That right there is my appreciation! You gave me the bare necessities that a mother should give so please do not think you have won the mother of the year award." She's yelling now... no screaming. Her voice was filled with pain and anger. Her throat hurt as she felt her voice strain and that lump in the back of her throat begin to form.
"How dare you speak to me that way young lady! I am your mother and you will treat me with respect... that is how this relationship works!"
"Why? Why should I treat you with respect when you only ever treat me with utter shit." Her mother gasps. "I swore... big woop." She rolls her eyes.
"I should not have to earn your respect. I gave you life, you give me respect."
"No." Stella state.
"No?"
"No." She repeats. "You gave me life but you made it miserable," she says, holding back tears. "You said learning guitar was useless and that I should just give up. When I came home from the mall with my first ever crop top you said I was too fat to wear it. You said I couldn't eat carbs when I was 12 because carbs make you fat. You said that you wish I was more like Molly Jenson because she's pretty and gets good grades. When I dropped out of college you said that I made a terrible mistake and will end up homeless."
"You drop out of college to pursue music when you were on your way to earning a Ph.D.! Of course, it was a huge mistake!"
"It was what was right for me mom!" She was crying now. Tears streamed down her face and her voice sounded choked, she didn't let that waver her point though.
"Oh please! You dropped out the first chance you got!" She yelled.
"Yeah, I did. I had the chance to pursue my dream with my best friend and world-famous singer, Harry Styles... it wasn't just a chance mom."
"You did that just to hurt me. Again, you have no respect Lindsey... our conversation makes a full circle."
"How can I treat someone with respect when they've only ever made me feel insignificant, a burden?" She sniffles. The honesty, vulnerable words struck Stella deep in her heart and she had trouble controlling her cries... but she did.
"On Christmas..." her mom sighs and she could only imagine she was shaking her head as well. "If you didn't ruin Christmas you sure have now. I will not continue this conversation Lindsey and I will not be spoken to like that. I wish you well and I only expect to hear from you when you have a well-rehearsed apology ready for me to hear." And with that, the line goes dead. She hung up on her.
Stella stared at the wall across from her for a moment before she whips her phone at it, screaming with force and not even realizing what she was doing before the damage was already done. She looked at the new dent in the wall, then at her phone, and then she dropped to her knees and sobbed.
She had completely forgotten that Harry was even in her apartment so when a pair of strong arms wrap around her she's thrown off at first but soon realizes it's Harry. She feels embarrassed. Embarrassed that he's seeing her life this, embarrassed that he's holding her, and embarrassed that he knows.
Harry and Stella are the closets of friends who know nearly everything about each other. Harry always knew that Stella and her mom had a rocky relationship but never knew how bad. Stella never told Harry how bad it was because she knew her mom was lovely... to everyone but her. She was an angel to her children, grandchildren, Harry, strangers... everyone but Stella. This would always make Stella feel like a burden but also as if she was wrong and being dramatic because no one else understood or could relate.
If my mom is an angel to everyone else, how could she be even close to mean to me... Stella would think to herself, which made her feel like she was only being dramatic.
Stella never told Harry because she always felt wrong. How could she speak ill of her mother? She didn't want Harry to see her differently either so she never told him to protect her mother's reputation.
"I'm sorry," Harry whispers before kissing the side of her head. "I had no idea, Stella."
Stella continues to cry in his arms. It all comes out, everything she's been hiding from Harry throughout their friendship, everything she's kept in.
Harry knows it's bad too because there has only been a handful of times that Stella has openly cried in front of him. She never comes to Harry with her problems. She always keeps them in and Harry knows that. He was always there for her though, even if she didn't want him to be.
There were times where he could see she wasn't okay... or even just sense it, and when those times occurred he would be there for her, never making it obvious that he could tell she wasn't okay though as he knew it would only make her uncomfortable.
That being said, she was still very good at hiding her emotions and lying about how she was doing. She didn't want people worrying about her so she made sure no one did. Little did she know, Harry was always worrying about her, mainly because he knew she was lying.
One of the lies Harry never saw through though was her relationship with her mom. He knew they weren't exactly the closest but he never thought that it was this bad. Her openly crying in his arms proves that.
Harry coos her with his words for the next 20 minutes while she cries, her sobs turning into small sniffles and hiccups over time. Once she realizes what's happening, her embarrassment is overwhelming. She tucks her hair behind her ears and briskly wipes her tears. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have-"
"Stella stop," Harry says to her, kindly but sternly. "You can come to me, you know that right? Why didn't you tell me? Why'd you keep it in?"
"I-I don't know..." she says, looking away from him. "Because it doesn't matter... it's whatever."
"Stella... talk to me." He picks up her hand.
Stella looks at her hand, then back at him and sighs. "She's upset I'm not coming, thinks I'm selfish and..." she sighs, talking about everything again brings that heaviness back in her chest, "she thinks my career is a mistake and I only dropped out of university in spite of her and just a lot of other stuff I guess."
"How long has it... been like this?" Harry didn't know how to word his question. How do you ask your best friend how long her relationship with her mother has been the equivalent of utter shit?
"I don't know," she shrugs and Harry gives her a look again. "Always... she's always been like this to me."
"Why didn't you tell me, Stell? Why'd you always hide it?"
"Because she's my mom!" She shouts in frustration. "How can I... she's just... UGH! She's my mom, and she's so nice to everyone. Everyone loves her, you, my siblings, strangers... everyone. I love her too but..." she trails off.
"Mhm?" He encourages her to be open while rubbing his thumb on the back of her hand.
"But I don't think she loves me," she says, letting out a gut-wrenching sob after the unwanted words.
Harry brings her back into a hug, consoling her cries. His heart breaks hearing this. "I'm so sorry Stella, so sorry," he says rubbing her back and kissing the top of her head. "Listen, why don't we watch a movie, get some snacks, order take out..."
"The roads are closed, Harry..."
He chuckles, "right... okay, we'll make dinner if you have groceries, if not it's chips and chocolate for dinner."
"That sounds like a lot of fun... thank you," she sniffles.
"Alright, let's get you up," he beings to stand and grabs Stella's hands to help her up as well.
The pair realize she has very few groceries but does have a load of chips and candy in typical Stella fashion. They ended up just grabbing all of the junk food and placing it on the coffee table, grabbing loads of blankets and curling up on opposite ends of the couch, which were not very far from one another.
As Stella grew more and more tired throughout the movies she began to fall asleep on Harry's shoulder. Harry felt her subconsciously nuzzle into him, and when he did he lightly kissed the top of her head and directed his attention back to the movie.
When the ending credits appeared on screen, Harry very lightly shook Stella to wake her up. He would have just carried her to bed, but getting up would have been difficult with her lying on top of him. "Stella, wake up, let's go to bed," he kindly whispered.
Stella lifted herself off of him and rubbed her eyes. "Oh," she said, realizing she fell asleep. "Okay, let's go to bed," she said getting up. "Wait, where are we sleeping? I only have one bed," she said once they're both in her bedroom, still holding the blankets from the couch.
"Oh it's fine, I'll just sleep on the couch," Harry said, taking the blankets so he could sleep out there.
"No no, I'll sleep out there don't worry" Stella stops him and takes the blanket so she can give him the bed.
"Stella, common, I'm not gonna take your bed," he says.
"Okay how about this, tonight you get the bed and tomorrow, I get it and then we just take turns from there? Deal?" Stella proposes, keeping to herself that she was going to do everything in her power to make sure that she isn't sleeping in that bed for the next few days.
"Stella no, you were upset earlier, how is that fair. You deserve a good night's rest," he says, wanting to make sure his best friend was alright.
"Okay, would it make you feel better if I slept in here?" She asked, her hand resting on her hip.
"Yes!" Harry confirmed, throwing his hands up in the air.
"Okay, fine." She takes the blankets and begins to set them up beside the bed.
Harry walks over to Stella to see what she's up to on the floor beside her bed. "Uh... what are you doing?"
"I'm sleeping in here and you are sleeping in my bed." She smiles.
"Nuh-uh." He shakes her head. "H-how is that- no... no you are sleeping in your bed."
"No actually... I'm sleeping here." She sits down and gets underneath the covers, proving her point.
What Stella wasn't expecting was what Harry is about to do next. "Okay." He says. He then walks right over to Stella and gets underneath the covers with her.
Stella looks over to him and sighs. "What are you doing?" She asks.
"Going to bed, goodnight Stella," Harry says.
She looks at him, scanning his face to see if he was kidding or not and once she realizes he's not, she takes a deep breath. "Fine" She rolled her eyes. "Goodnight Harry."
Ten minutes pass of the two of them sharing a very small blanket on the cold floor of her New York City apartment. She begins to shiver but refuses to let him win this small argument. Harry quickly realizes just how cold she is though and puts an end to all this. "Stella you're shaking, common, just take the bed."
"No Harry, the only person in that bed tonight will be you," she says stubbornly.
Harry puts his pride aside for the well-being of his best friend. "How about this, both of us take the bed?"
Stella looks over at him and sighs. "Okay." The two of them get up and into bed, Stella feeling warmer instantly. The pair haven't shared a bed like this since they were nine, and suddenly sharing a bed feels quite odd. They sleep on the very edge of either side of the bed, taking precautions to make sure neither of them is touching one another. "Goodnight Harry."
"Goodnight Stella."
—
Ten Years Ago
Seventeen-year-old Lindsey and Harry sit on the roof of Lindsey's house, a blanket shared between the two of them in efforts to keep warm. Harry was home from tour for the holidays and was spending his time with Lindsey. They were side-by-side, shoulder to shoulder. They couldn't be any closer if they wanted to be.
Harry had always had a special kind of love for Lindsey. He loved her unconditionally, but it wasn't until recently that he realized, maybe that love wasn't platonic. He's always had a bit of a crush on her since he was twelve and always liked the idea of being more than just friends with her, but he never realized that it was maybe more than a small crush. Harry looked over to her and was about to the words that have been on the tip of his tongue since he was 12. "Lindsey," he whispered.
Lindsey cringed at the sound of her name. She hated her name, always has. She only ever heard it from Harry and when her mom when she was in trouble, which most of the time she was. She's grown to associate her name with the feeling of anxiety and has had enough. She looks over to Harry and says what she's been thinking for a while now. "Can you not call me that anymore?" She says just as quietly as Harry had spoken her name.
"What? Why? I love your name," Harry says, surprised,
"I don't, I hate it," she murmured.
"Why?" He asked, surprised.
"I don't know... just sounds bad." She shrugs.
"O-okay," Harry says, not knowing where to go from there. "Well, then what should I call you?" The young girl looked over to him and shrugged again. She had put so much thought into the hatred of her name but never about the replacement. "Okay, what about Estella? Your middle name?"
"Nah, it's too long." She shakes her head.
"Okay... Stella then?" He asks. She looked over to him with wide eyes at the sound of the name, a smile creeping up on her lips. "You like that one?"
"Yeah... sounds like a rockstar... Stella Jones..." She smiled.
"Stella Jones it is then!"
Stella leaned farther into Harry and rested her head on her shoulders. Harry hadn't forgotten what he was going to ask the beautiful girl beside him, he never would, but he had decided to wait. Wait to ask if she maybe, possibly, wanted to be more... more than just friends. Harry never had the guts or confidence to say it, but he finally felt ready tonight. But with the new information of Stella hating her name, he told himself he would wait to do it tomorrow.
She was tired, and he was too. He couldn't ask anymore. He could feel her weight sink into him more and more and she began to fall asleep. He told himself twenty more minutes of peace outside here with her before he woke her up to go inside and then lightly kissed the top of her head.
Stella and Harry have been friends for as long as they can remember. They met in fourth grade when Harry and her were sitting beside one another in science class. The teacher gave them both a beaker and was told specifically to be very careful. Unfortunately, things did not go as planned. Harry, being the clutz he is, had accidentally knocked his beaker over so it broke and shattered on the floor between them. The sound of the glass hitting the floor brought silence to the room, and without another thought, Stella had quickly pushed her beaker over to Harry so it would look like she was the one to break it instead of Harry.
The teacher came rushing over to scold whoever broke the glass. Harry was shocked that someone he had never even talked to would do such a thing for him. The teacher had practically yelled at Stella, but she didn't care. That's why she did it in the first place. She knew the teacher's yelling and anger would upset Harry so she took the blame. Harry looked at her dumbfounded, growing guilter and guilter by the second that she had to go through this because of something he did. When the teacher left after giving her a new beaker, Harry turned to her and asked why she did that.
"Why'd you do that? You don't even know me."
She stared at Harry for a moment and shrugged.
"Eh, why not?"
From there on out, they were best friends and the perfect pair. Whenever Harry got picked on Stella was there to stick up for him. She would take a busted lip or black eye from Harry's bullies if it meant Harry didn't have to. Harry was always there for her as well. Whenever Stella was upset, or alone, Harry was right by her side, even if she didn't want him to be. It didn't matter if he was studying for an exam, out with his family, or sleeping, he would drop everything to make sure that girl was okay. Needless to say, they've been joint by the hip since the age of nine.
When Stella found her date to the prom making out with some girl in the bathroom, Harry was her shoulder to cry on.
When Harry was getting cornered by bullies again, Stella stepped in and stuck up for him.
When Stella was wearing white pants and had gotten her first period, Harry gave her his sweater to tie around her waist and later came to her house with a box of chocolate.
When Harry was nervous for his X-Factor audition, Stella stayed up with him all night, helping him practice for the big day.
The pair were a set of twin flames.
And they still are to this day.
Harry and Stella are about to fly home to Manchester for the holidays to see their family today. They haven't been home in months so needless to say, they're very excited. They're staying in New York because that was where Harry's last tour date was and because Stella really wanted to be in New York throughout the holidays and with the both of them being so close, Harry did the same. He had no reason to go back to LA for two weeks when he could just stay in his penthouse living in the same city as his best friend.
"Stella, come on! We're gonna be late!" Harry shouted from the living room of her apartment. Their flight was at 3:30 and it was currently 2:30. With traffic, security, possible fans or paparazzi, they really should have left half an hour ago.
"Oh shut up, I'm almost done. If you wanted to be on time you should have told me to leave half an hour ago so I would really be done by now." It's true, Harry knew better than to expect her to be on time. That girl would be late to her own funeral.
"Stella!"
"Harry!" She mocked.
Harry looked outside the window to pass the time and saw the snow falling so heavily that he could barely see the building across the street. Harry got a sick feeling in his stomach when seeing the downpour of the frozen snow and got increasingly worried. Harry quickly grabbed the remote that was sitting on the coffee table and turned on the TV, then flicking to the news channel.
"Due to recent weather conditions, all flights set for departure between 2:00 pm today and midnight on the 28th of December will be cancelled..."
Harry was on the edge of his seat while receiving such news while Stella finally walked out of her bedroom. "You couldn't wait five minutes? You really had to turn on the TV? I-"
"Shhhhh," Harry cut her off quickly. Stella stopped strolling her suitcase and went over to the couch to sit beside Harry and see what he was staring at.
"All roads will be closed as well due to the heavy snowfall. Please, do not leave your homes unless absolutely necessary..."
"What?" Stella whispered, realizing she would be stuck in New York for Christmas.
"Our flights are cancelled Stell, there's a massive snowstorm," Harry tells her while she looks outside the window, confirming what he said. They both felt unbelievably disappointed. They wouldn't be going home for the holidays. They wouldn't see their family. And Christmas wouldn't be the same.
"Fuck," Stella says.
"Yeah."
"I knew I should have booked the earlier flight. Fuck, this is all my fault," Stella mumbles. "I'm so sorry Harry."
"No it's not Stella, you know that. Don't do that to yourself. You're not mother nature, you don't control the weather," Harry says to her sternly but calmly.
"Right..." she says, not convinced but pushing her emotions to the side to deal with the current issue at hand. "So the roads are closed... you wanna stay here then?"
"Is that... okay with you?" He asks.
"Yeah Harry, of course." She nods. "I'm not gonna lie though, I kind of wishing we were stuck at your place instead of mine," she laughs, Harry joining in just after.
Harry lived farther uptown than Lindsey did. While yes, the two were joint at the hip, they by no means lived together. Harry lived in a penthouse while Lindsey lived in just an average-sized apartment. She had a place in LA, New York, and London, just like Harry... but her homes were more average-sized. She wanted a more homey feel and didn't want a giant house anyways.
"Fuck, what are we gonna do?" Stella sighs.
"Common Stell, we can do it. It won't be that bad," he says while trying to cheer her up. "It will be so cozy. We can light those candles you love, there's wine, we can watch movies!."
Stella sighs, processing his words. "Yeah you're right," she agrees. "Wait I don't even have a tree," she groans.
"You had one last year..."
"Yeah but that one was real so it died," she explains.
"But you were allergic to it so after Christmas you bought a new one because they were on sale," he reminds her.
"Oh yeah!" She nearly yells in excitement. "Okay, so it's in storage then.."
"Let's go get it." Harry claps his hands and grabs her keys so that they can go down to the storage unit. They walk out the door together and take the elevator all the way down to the basement where her storage room is.
"Fuck I hate it down here," she says. "It's so eerie and cold." She crossed her arms for both comfort and warmth.
Harry wraps an arm around her and rubs her arm in an effort to warm her up. "We'll be quick." They find her storage room and stop to see an absolute mess. "So uh..."
"It's a mess, I know." She rolls her eyes. "I haven't been down here in a while so hopefully it's near the front."
"... Okay well..." Harry says before they get to searching.
The pair begin searching the storage room for the box that holds the Christmas tree. After nearly twenty minutes of trying to even get a foot inside the room, they eventually find the box.
"Harry! I found it!" Stella shouts. "Oh! Ow," she says after a loud crash
He rushes over to find her completely trapped between a bike, about 10 bins, the Christmas tree box, and a cotton candy machine. "Wow, I never knew you were a hoarder..." he teases.
"Oh shut up and help me." She reaches out her hand and Harry takes it, pulling her up but underestimating his strength and sending her toppling the other way, only this time she falls into his chest.
Her hands rest on his chest to allow her to stabilize herself after the sudden movement and her eyes stay trained on the area between my thumbs. Once her ears can process his voice she slowly looks up at him to see his brows furrowed and eyes full of concern. When she finally comes back to her senses, she pulls away from Harry so they're no longer touching.
"I- sorry I just..." she rambles, not making eye contact with Harry and tucking her hair behind her ears.
"No uh, it's... uh... the tree!" Harry suddenly shouted out, changing the subject.
"Yes! The tree! I found it!" She says, nearly jumping.
"Great so uh... how do we get it out?"
It took the pair forty-five minutes to get the Christmas tree from her storage room to the front door of her apartment. When they finally got inside the apartment Stella walked over to the couch and threw herself on top of it. "Ah, that was so hard," she sighed while Harry stood in the doorway.
"You barely held it at all..." Harry chuckled to himself
"Oh please," she rolled her eyes. "I held plenty."
"Mhm..." Harry said, bringing the tree from the doorway to the living room. "Gonna help me with this or..."
"What if you set it up and then we can decorate together?" She said staring at him from the couch.
"Why am I surprised?" He says to himself. Harry begins to set up the Christmas tree while Stella micro-manages him from the couch.
"Over to the left a little? No, the other left... ah now the right..."
"Stell, why don't you just get up and do it?" Harry sighs.
"Because I don't want to..." It takes them only 10 more minutes to have it set up perfectly. Just as they were about to start decorating, Stella's phone began to ring. When she picked up her phone and saw the caller ID she was overcome with a wave of anxiety "Fuck," she said. She didn't mean for Harry to hear her curse, but he did and was immediately concerned.
"What's wrong?" He asked, making his way over to her and sitting on the couch.
"My mom's calling," she mumbled. Harry knew her mom and she had a tough relationship, but despite them being best friends, she's never told him the true extent of it.
"Oh? Um... I mean she's probably wondering where you are so..."
"Yeah, I should answer, I know. I'll be right back," she says, taking the call and walking into her bedroom. "Hey mom..." she says, trying not to sound overly anxious over the wrath that was bound to come.
"Lindsey..." she begins and Stella cringes at the sound of her first name. "Why did you not tell me your flight was cancelled? Do you think it's acceptable to not only not come home for Christmas... but not even tell me about it?"
"Mom I'm sorry for not telling you but it's not my fault the flight was cancelled." She tells her mom the same thing Harry told her only moments prior, whether she believes it or not is another question. "There's a snowstorm outside and I-"
"I told you to book a flight for 9 am, but you and your lazy ass didn't want to get up then. How is there fair to me Lindsey? I do so much for you and you can't even come home for Christmas? Jesus I mean I knew you're selfish but I didn't think you were this self-centred to just not come home for Christmas." Stella begins to feel her eyes burn with tears.
"Mom..."
"No Lindsey, listen to me. It is not fair to your siblings, your nieces and nephews, me. I mean after all that we do for you..." She sighs.
Stella felt rage within her body. Her chest. Her hands. Her mind. Her voice.
All that they do... all that she does? Words could not even begin to explain how wrong and hurtful that sentence is to Stella. "What?" Stella whispers, but it wasn't soft. No, it was filled with anger, hurt, sorrow. It was the kind of whisper that could make fear strike through one's body. Yelling when mad was one thing but whispering. Whisper shows the last bit of control of your body has, as if all it can do at that moment is whisper because all other energy is spent on anger.
"What do you mean 'what' Lindsey? We gave you a roof over your head, a family, life. I mean I raised you, took you to all those guitar lessons and other useless shit... and never once have you shown any kind of appreciation."
"Useless? Mom those lessons are what has given me my career. The career that has put your two youngest children through college, has given your oldest a wedding and you a house! I gave you a roof over your head mom. That right there is my appreciation! You gave me the bare necessities that a mother should give so please do not think you have won the mother of the year award." She's yelling now... no screaming. Her voice was filled with pain and anger. Her throat hurt as she felt her voice strain and that lump in the back of her throat begin to form.
"How dare you speak to me that way young lady! I am your mother and you will treat me with respect... that is how this relationship works!"
"Why? Why should I treat you with respect when you only ever treat me with utter shit." Her mother gasps. "I swore... big woop." She rolls her eyes.
"I should not have to earn your respect. I gave you life, you give me respect."
"No." Stella state.
"No?"
"No." She repeats. "You gave me life but you made it miserable," she says, holding back tears. "You said learning guitar was useless and that I should just give up. When I came home from the mall with my first ever crop top you said I was too fat to wear it. You said I couldn't eat carbs when I was 12 because carbs make you fat. You said that you wish I was more like Molly Jenson because she's pretty and gets good grades. When I dropped out of college you said that I made a terrible mistake and will end up homeless."
"You drop out of college to pursue music when you were on your way to earning a Ph.D.! Of course, it was a huge mistake!"
"It was what was right for me mom!" She was crying now. Tears streamed down her face and her voice sounded choked, she didn't let that waver her point though.
"Oh please! You dropped out the first chance you got!" She yelled.
"Yeah, I did. I had the chance to pursue my dream with my best friend and world-famous singer, Harry Styles... it wasn't just a chance mom."
"You did that just to hurt me. Again, you have no respect Lindsey... our conversation makes a full circle."
"How can I treat someone with respect when they've only ever made me feel insignificant, a burden?" She sniffles. The honesty, vulnerable words struck Stella deep in her heart and she had trouble controlling her cries... but she did.
"On Christmas..." her mom sighs and she could only imagine she was shaking her head as well. "If you didn't ruin Christmas you sure have now. I will not continue this conversation Lindsey and I will not be spoken to like that. I wish you well and I only expect to hear from you when you have a well-rehearsed apology ready for me to hear." And with that, the line goes dead. She hung up on her.
Stella stared at the wall across from her for a moment before she whips her phone at it, screaming with force and not even realizing what she was doing before the damage was already done. She looked at the new dent in the wall, then at her phone, and then she dropped to her knees and sobbed.
She had completely forgotten that Harry was even in her apartment so when a pair of strong arms wrap around her she's thrown off at first but soon realizes it's Harry. She feels embarrassed. Embarrassed that he's seeing her life this, embarrassed that he's holding her, and embarrassed that he knows.
Harry and Stella are the closets of friends who know nearly everything about each other. Harry always knew that Stella and her mom had a rocky relationship but never knew how bad. Stella never told Harry how bad it was because she knew her mom was lovely... to everyone but her. She was an angel to her children, grandchildren, Harry, strangers... everyone but Stella. This would always make Stella feel like a burden but also as if she was wrong and being dramatic because no one else understood or could relate.
If my mom is an angel to everyone else, how could she be even close to mean to me... Stella would think to herself, which made her feel like she was only being dramatic.
Stella never told Harry because she always felt wrong. How could she speak ill of her mother? She didn't want Harry to see her differently either so she never told him to protect her mother's reputation.
"I'm sorry," Harry whispers before kissing the side of her head. "I had no idea, Stella."
Stella continues to cry in his arms. It all comes out, everything she's been hiding from Harry throughout their friendship, everything she's kept in.
Harry knows it's bad too because there has only been a handful of times that Stella has openly cried in front of him. She never comes to Harry with her problems. She always keeps them in and Harry knows that. He was always there for her though, even if she didn't want him to be.
There were times where he could see she wasn't okay... or even just sense it, and when those times occurred he would be there for her, never making it obvious that he could tell she wasn't okay though as he knew it would only make her uncomfortable.
That being said, she was still very good at hiding her emotions and lying about how she was doing. She didn't want people worrying about her so she made sure no one did. Little did she know, Harry was always worrying about her, mainly because he knew she was lying.
One of the lies Harry never saw through though was her relationship with her mom. He knew they weren't exactly the closest but he never thought that it was this bad. Her openly crying in his arms proves that.
Harry coos her with his words for the next 20 minutes while she cries, her sobs turning into small sniffles and hiccups over time. Once she realizes what's happening, her embarrassment is overwhelming. She tucks her hair behind her ears and briskly wipes her tears. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have-"
"Stella stop," Harry says to her, kindly but sternly. "You can come to me, you know that right? Why didn't you tell me? Why'd you keep it in?"
"I-I don't know..." she says, looking away from him. "Because it doesn't matter... it's whatever."
"Stella... talk to me." He picks up her hand.
Stella looks at her hand, then back at him and sighs. "She's upset I'm not coming, thinks I'm selfish and..." she sighs, talking about everything again brings that heaviness back in her chest, "she thinks my career is a mistake and I only dropped out of university in spite of her and just a lot of other stuff I guess."
"How long has it... been like this?" Harry didn't know how to word his question. How do you ask your best friend how long her relationship with her mother has been the equivalent of utter shit?
"I don't know," she shrugs and Harry gives her a look again. "Always... she's always been like this to me."
"Why didn't you tell me, Stell? Why'd you always hide it?"
"Because she's my mom!" She shouts in frustration. "How can I... she's just... UGH! She's my mom, and she's so nice to everyone. Everyone loves her, you, my siblings, strangers... everyone. I love her too but..." she trails off.
"Mhm?" He encourages her to be open while rubbing his thumb on the back of her hand.
"But I don't think she loves me," she says, letting out a gut-wrenching sob after the unwanted words.
Harry brings her back into a hug, consoling her cries. His heart breaks hearing this. "I'm so sorry Stella, so sorry," he says rubbing her back and kissing the top of her head. "Listen, why don't we watch a movie, get some snacks, order take out..."
"The roads are closed, Harry..."
He chuckles, "right... okay, we'll make dinner if you have groceries, if not it's chips and chocolate for dinner."
"That sounds like a lot of fun... thank you," she sniffles.
"Alright, let's get you up," he beings to stand and grabs Stella's hands to help her up as well.
The pair realize she has very few groceries but does have a load of chips and candy in typical Stella fashion. They ended up just grabbing all of the junk food and placing it on the coffee table, grabbing loads of blankets and curling up on opposite ends of the couch, which were not very far from one another.
As Stella grew more and more tired throughout the movies she began to fall asleep on Harry's shoulder. Harry felt her subconsciously nuzzle into him, and when he did he lightly kissed the top of her head and directed his attention back to the movie.
When the ending credits appeared on screen, Harry very lightly shook Stella to wake her up. He would have just carried her to bed, but getting up would have been difficult with her lying on top of him. "Stella, wake up, let's go to bed," he kindly whispered.
Stella lifted herself off of him and rubbed her eyes. "Oh," she said, realizing she fell asleep. "Okay, let's go to bed," she said getting up. "Wait, where are we sleeping? I only have one bed," she said once they're both in her bedroom, still holding the blankets from the couch.
"Oh it's fine, I'll just sleep on the couch," Harry said, taking the blankets so he could sleep out there.
"No no, I'll sleep out there don't worry" Stella stops him and takes the blanket so she can give him the bed.
"Stella, common, I'm not gonna take your bed," he says.
"Okay how about this, tonight you get the bed and tomorrow, I get it and then we just take turns from there? Deal?" Stella proposes, keeping to herself that she was going to do everything in her power to make sure that she isn't sleeping in that bed for the next few days.
"Stella no, you were upset earlier, how is that fair. You deserve a good night's rest," he says, wanting to make sure his best friend was alright.
"Okay, would it make you feel better if I slept in here?" She asked, her hand resting on her hip.
"Yes!" Harry confirmed, throwing his hands up in the air.
"Okay, fine." She takes the blankets and begins to set them up beside the bed.
Harry walks over to Stella to see what she's up to on the floor beside her bed. "Uh... what are you doing?"
"I'm sleeping in here and you are sleeping in my bed." She smiles.
"Nuh-uh." He shakes her head. "H-how is that- no... no you are sleeping in your bed."
"No actually... I'm sleeping here." She sits down and gets underneath the covers, proving her point.
What Stella wasn't expecting was what Harry is about to do next. "Okay." He says. He then walks right over to Stella and gets underneath the covers with her.
Stella looks over to him and sighs. "What are you doing?" She asks.
"Going to bed, goodnight Stella," Harry says.
She looks at him, scanning his face to see if he was kidding or not and once she realizes he's not, she takes a deep breath. "Fine" She rolled her eyes. "Goodnight Harry."
Ten minutes pass of the two of them sharing a very small blanket on the cold floor of her New York City apartment. She begins to shiver but refuses to let him win this small argument. Harry quickly realizes just how cold she is though and puts an end to all this. "Stella you're shaking, common, just take the bed."
"No Harry, the only person in that bed tonight will be you," she says stubbornly.
Harry puts his pride aside for the well-being of his best friend. "How about this, both of us take the bed?"
Stella looks over at him and sighs. "Okay." The two of them get up and into bed, Stella feeling warmer instantly. The pair haven't shared a bed like this since they were nine, and suddenly sharing a bed feels quite odd. They sleep on the very edge of either side of the bed, taking precautions to make sure neither of them is touching one another. "Goodnight Harry."
"Goodnight Stella."
—
Ten Years Ago
Seventeen-year-old Lindsey and Harry sit on the roof of Lindsey's house, a blanket shared between the two of them in efforts to keep warm. Harry was home from tour for the holidays and was spending his time with Lindsey. They were side-by-side, shoulder to shoulder. They couldn't be any closer if they wanted to be.
Harry had always had a special kind of love for Lindsey. He loved her unconditionally, but it wasn't until recently that he realized, maybe that love wasn't platonic. He's always had a bit of a crush on her since he was twelve and always liked the idea of being more than just friends with her, but he never realized that it was maybe more than a small crush. Harry looked over to her and was about to the words that have been on the tip of his tongue since he was 12. "Lindsey," he whispered.
Lindsey cringed at the sound of her name. She hated her name, always has. She only ever heard it from Harry and when her mom when she was in trouble, which most of the time she was. She's grown to associate her name with the feeling of anxiety and has had enough. She looks over to Harry and says what she's been thinking for a while now. "Can you not call me that anymore?" She says just as quietly as Harry had spoken her name.
"What? Why? I love your name," Harry says, surprised,
"I don't, I hate it," she murmured.
"Why?" He asked, surprised.
"I don't know... just sounds bad." She shrugs.
"O-okay," Harry says, not knowing where to go from there. "Well, then what should I call you?" The young girl looked over to him and shrugged again. She had put so much thought into the hatred of her name but never about the replacement. "Okay, what about Estella? Your middle name?"
"Nah, it's too long." She shakes her head.
"Okay... Stella then?" He asks. She looked over to him with wide eyes at the sound of the name, a smile creeping up on her lips. "You like that one?"
"Yeah... sounds like a rockstar... Stella Jones..." She smiled.
"Stella Jones it is then!"
Stella leaned farther into Harry and rested her head on her shoulders. Harry hadn't forgotten what he was going to ask the beautiful girl beside him, he never would, but he had decided to wait. Wait to ask if she maybe, possibly, wanted to be more... more than just friends. Harry never had the guts or confidence to say it, but he finally felt ready tonight. But with the new information of Stella hating her name, he told himself he would wait to do it tomorrow.
She was tired, and he was too. He couldn't ask anymore. He could feel her weight sink into him more and more and she began to fall asleep. He told himself twenty more minutes of peace outside here with her before he woke her up to go inside and then lightly kissed the top of her head.
SUMMARY: Holly works at The Beanery with Harry and has been experiencing panic attacks, this time Harry’s there
This one-shot is heavily inspired by episode 4, season 4 of Alexa and Katie.
5:06 PM
Harry had been working at The Beanery, a small local coffee shop for the past 2 months. It's only him, Holly and the shop owner, Mark that work there. Holly had been there for the past two years and was the one to train them. Holly had known Harry from and after having some classes together, she wasn't exactly fond of him. She found him arrogant and cocky while he found her uptight and annoying. He needed a job though, and working with Holly was much better than working at the corner shop down the street with Cranky Steve.
"You sure you don't want me to help you lock up?" He asks her. Just because they nearly hated one another doesn't mean they don't have responsibilities and it doesn't mean they don't try and be civil with one another. While yes, it's her night to close up, he doesn't mind washing a few mugs to help her out
"No, I'm fine. Honestly, I'd rather you leave," she tells him while walking over to a table with a small bin to put dirty dishes in.
"Okay well... have fun, loser. Good luck on that biology test tomorrow," he teases her. He doesn't wish her good luck whatsoever, in fact, he hopes she gets a bad grade just to make her mad. Although, if she does get a bad grade then she'll be in a cranky mood at work and probably make him clean the toilets.
He walks out of the coffee shop and the door shuts behind him, leaving Holly alone in the shop with her thoughts. "Good luck on the bio test," she mocks under her breathe. "Of course I will. I'm Ho-" She's cut off when she begins to feel a sick feeling in her stomach and her heart speeding up. "Holly Fi-" she tries to finish her sentence but can't when the air she inhales begins to feel thinner and thinner.
"No... no no no." Holly isn't new to panic attacks, she's been getting quite often for the past year. Sometimes she knows exactly what triggered while other times it could happen quite randomly. She has been working on figuring out her triggers recently but it's hard when it feels like her episodes are triggered by the most mundane things to her.
She knows when one is coming on and sometimes she can calm herself down and stop it before it even really starts. Other times, she feels as though she has no control. When she begins to feel the control over her own body slipping through her fingers, she begins panicking even more over what's to come. "Fuck."
As each second ticks by her heart begins to beat faster and faster and her arms begin to feel weak and tingle. "Breathe..." she tells herself, "b-breathe Holly j-just breathe." She tries to remember the techniques her therapist has told her and shakes her hands to try and snap herself out of it, focusing on something other than the panic in her body. "One hundred... ninety s-seven," she begins counting backwards by threes but can barely focus on what number is supposed to come next. "N-ninety four... n-n." Her breathing is erratic and she can't focus enough to figure out what number is next. "N-n... fuck."
Her hands are shaking, but so is the rest of her body as she rests her hand against her chest. She feels her heart thumping against her ribs and wishes it would stop. She knows she can't calm herself down on her own at this point so she reaches for her phone to call her mom in the hope she can help her and maybe even pick her up as she knows she is in no state to take herself home. Her shaking hands make their way to her mom's contact, calling her and holding her phone up to her ear. Each ring that fades in and out throughout the speaker only makes her panic, even more, worried her mom won't pick up and she'll be alone. The voicemail system tells her to leave a message and after the beep, she tries her best to get words out.
"M-mom? Um... I think it's uh... h-happening again. Can y-ou please p-pick me up?" You can practically hear the lump in the back of her throat while she talks, her breathing still erratic as well. Holly hangs up the phone and drops it on the table before she places her hands on it and rests her weight on them while she hunches over. She's so out of it that she didn't even hear the door open and shut behind her while she was on the phone. Harry can hear her stuttering and breathing, as well as what she told her mom and now knows what's wrong with her.
He walks up to her with calculated steps, making sure that he's not being too loud that he'll freak her out but not too quiet that she'll be spooked when she sees him. Harry, very gently places a hand beside her on the table where she was staring. He was going to touch her shoulder but doesn't know how she'll react in this state.
She sees his hand and knows it's him because of the cross tattoo on his hand. Holly glances over at him and words didn't need to be spoken for her to tell him what was happening. He takes his eyes off of her to pull a chair out for her to sit on. "Sit down," he tells her calmly and she does exactly as he says, resting her hand on her knees while her breathing is still shaky. "Let's talk about our weirdest customers yeah?" He smiles, trying to calm her down. She gives him a weird look, half wondering how this would help and the other half wondering why he even wants to help. "Come on miss judgemental, you always have something to say about a customer in the breakroom."
"Um... t-there's uh, Whip... Whipped Cream Wanda," she tells him, tears streaming down her face. She's not sobbing though, only a few tears.
"Oh so you've started giving them names now too," he chuckles. There's a look in his eyes where he hopes that she'll laugh at his joke with him or even just a slight smile but she didn't.
"More f-fun that way," she says.
"I see. Well, Whipcream Wanda is definitely a good choice, I had to refill the whipped cream yesterday and after she came it was empty again. But who's next?" He keeps talking, trying to distract her mind.
"That uh... g-guy that comes in and a-asks for water with c-caramel syrup," she tells him, slowly but surely beginning to calm down
"No name?" The same warm smile stays on his lips. He's acting as if she's not having a panic attack and it's just a normal conversation. But they both know it's not normal and that he's trying to distract her. Their conversations would never be this civil.
"Swampy S-sam."
"Ah, cause it look likes swap water... smart." He taps his temple. "Who else, don't stop."
"Finger Wand Milly," she says, which earns an odd look from Harry.
"Who's that?" He tilts his head with his brows furrowed.
"The girl who a-always comes in to flirt with you," she tells him. "She twists her h-hair around her fingers when she talks."
"She... she was flirting?" His eyes nearly bulge out of his head. He had no clue that she was flirting, he just thought she was friendly. It wouldn't matter anyways, he wasn't interested in her.
"Yeah but-but it was funny to watch because she's so b-bad at it," she chuckles... finally.
"There we are." Her smile only grows at his words. "So you had a problem with her flirting with me huh?" He teases
"N-no, I just don't l-like her because you get distracted a-and stop working," she explains.
"Sure," he drags the word and fills it with sarcasm, earning an eye roll from Holly. "I personally hate Vanilla Swirl Sully. Longest order ever!" Her breathing has seemed to get better but she's not making eye contact anymore as she tries to calm herself down even more and he takes that as a cue for him to leave. When he goes to stand her head snaps up to him and the look on her face is almost one of fear.
"Where are you going?" She asks, sounding more nervous than before.
"Just gonna finish cleaning up. I'm not leaving you," he tells her and she nods. He walks over to the table she was cleaning, takes the rag that Holly was using and finishes the job before moving to get the empty cups from the table over.
"How did you know what to do?" She asks out of nowhere although she does sound a lot calmer.
"My sister gets panic attacks," he tells her. "Over time, I learnt what helps her and... hoped it would help you to."
"Oh," she says. Harry doesn't do or say anything but gives a small nod and gets back to work. He finishes cleaning the shop quite quickly while Holly focused on her breathing and calming down.
When Harry finished closing tasks, he hung up both of their aprons and grabbed her bag and his keys. "Ready to go?"
Holly opens her eyes and lifts her head to look at him. "What?" She speaks.
"You really think I'm just gonna leave you to go home on your own?" He says. "Common, let me drive you home." He smiles and walks up to her, giving her a hand which she takes and stands up.
She begins walking and Harry wraps a friendly arm around her shoulder. "Please don't tell anyone," she whispers.
Harry's brows furrow as he looks at her, he can see how worried she is that he'll gossip about her panic attacks at school. "I promise you, Holly. Promise I won't," he says.
"Thank you," she smiles.
"Of course," Harry says before they both get in the car. Putting their seatbelts on, Harry pulls out of his parking spot and then hands her his phone. "I don't know if you want to listen to music right now but my password is 4279 if you do."
Holly is quite confused by Harry's kindness. She's used to bickering. She's to the arrogant asshole that is Harry Styles. Not someone who is helping her through a panic attack, driving her home and giving her control over the music. "Why are you being so nice?" She asks randomly.
Harry looks over to her like she's insane. "I know we argue a lot but did you really think I'd just throw you to the wolves? I'm not a complete asshole Holly."
"No I didn't- sorry that all came out wrong. I'm just not used to this," she explains. "Thank you."
"You don't need to thank me, it's just basic human decency." He shakes his head. "Can I ask you something?"
"You just did," she teases.
"Shut up." He rolls his eyes. "Um... tell me to go fuck myself if I'm crossing a boundary but uh... how often have you been having... you know." Now it's Harry feeling nervous. He doesn't want to make her feel uncomfortable or think that he's somehow making fun of her.
"Calm down Harry... I don't bite," she laughs. "I'm fine telling you just... can you please promise you won't tell anyone anything from tonight? Please I-"
"Holly I already told you I wouldn't tell anyone. We argue sure, but you can trust me." He turns his head to look at her ever so often and see her picking at her cuticles.
She nods her head, taking in his words before she works up the courage and tells him. "I've been getting them pretty often for the past year or so. I usually have a few a week I guess. My parents are going through a divorce and school has been stressful, especially because we're in junior year it feels like my entire future depends on what grades I get this year and..." she sighs, "it's just a lot of pressure."
"I get it, it can definitely be stressful. I'm sorry about your paren-" Harry begins but is cutoff by Holly.
"Don't apologize, it's not your fault and I don't want sympathy," she tells him firmly.
"Okay. Well... if you ever need someone to talk Holly, I'm always here," he tells her honestly. "You can talk to me."
this story contains mature content and possibly triggering subjects such as;
toxic familial relationships
foul language
*please note that this list will be added to as I continue to write this story*
if any of these topics are sensitive to you, please think before reading this. your mental health comes first. i will write these themes with the utmost respect but please CALL ME OUT if you feel as though i have written something inaccurately as i am only human. i will also include trigger warnings at the beginning of chapters that contain a lot of sensitive content but please know that most chapters have these themes.
as of right now there will be no smut in this book. as much as i love reading smut, i don't feel comfortable writing something sexual about someone else. i hope you will continue to read this book regardless of the lack of sexual content though.
the pretty humans i have cast as face claims are who i imagine my characters as, but please feel free to imagine whoever you want. please know that these are only the faces of my characters and in no way reflect the face claim's real lives and personalities.
Lindsey and Harry are about to go home for the holidays when suddenly all flights and cabs are shut down, meaning they have to spend the holidays together. They quickly realize that this holiday season will be one to remember, but little do they know that this holiday season will change their lives forever. The only question is, is it for the better or is life as they know it ruined forever?
SUMMARY: Holly works at The Beanery with Harry and has been experiencing panic attacks, this time Harry’s there
This one-shot is heavily inspired by episode 4, season 4 of Alexa and Katie.
5:06 PM
Harry had been working at The Beanery, a small local coffee shop for the past 2 months. It's only him, Holly and the shop owner, Mark that work there. Holly had been there for the past two years and was the one to train them. Holly had known Harry from and after having some classes together, she wasn't exactly fond of him. She found him arrogant and cocky while he found her uptight and annoying. He needed a job though, and working with Holly was much better than working at the corner shop down the street with Cranky Steve.
"You sure you don't want me to help you lock up?" He asks her. Just because they nearly hated one another doesn't mean they don't have responsibilities and it doesn't mean they don't try and be civil with one another. While yes, it's her night to close up, he doesn't mind washing a few mugs to help her out
"No, I'm fine. Honestly, I'd rather you leave," she tells him while walking over to a table with a small bin to put dirty dishes in.
"Okay well... have fun, loser. Good luck on that biology test tomorrow," he teases her. He doesn't wish her good luck whatsoever, in fact, he hopes she gets a bad grade just to make her mad. Although, if she does get a bad grade then she'll be in a cranky mood at work and probably make him clean the toilets.
He walks out of the coffee shop and the door shuts behind him, leaving Holly alone in the shop with her thoughts. "Good luck on the bio test," she mocks under her breathe. "Of course I will. I'm Ho-" She's cut off when she begins to feel a sick feeling in her stomach and her heart speeding up. "Holly Fi-" she tries to finish her sentence but can't when the air she inhales begins to feel thinner and thinner.
"No... no no no." Holly isn't new to panic attacks, she's been getting quite often for the past year. Sometimes she knows exactly what triggered while other times it could happen quite randomly. She has been working on figuring out her triggers recently but it's hard when it feels like her episodes are triggered by the most mundane things to her.
She knows when one is coming on and sometimes she can calm herself down and stop it before it even really starts. Other times, she feels as though she has no control. When she begins to feel the control over her own body slipping through her fingers, she begins panicking even more over what's to come. "Fuck."
As each second ticks by her heart begins to beat faster and faster and her arms begin to feel weak and tingle. "Breathe..." she tells herself, "b-breathe Holly j-just breathe." She tries to remember the techniques her therapist has told her and shakes her hands to try and snap herself out of it, focusing on something other than the panic in her body. "One hundred... ninety s-seven," she begins counting backwards by threes but can barely focus on what number is supposed to come next. "N-ninety four... n-n." Her breathing is erratic and she can't focus enough to figure out what number is next. "N-n... fuck."
Her hands are shaking, but so is the rest of her body as she rests her hand against her chest. She feels her heart thumping against her ribs and wishes it would stop. She knows she can't calm herself down on her own at this point so she reaches for her phone to call her mom in the hope she can help her and maybe even pick her up as she knows she is in no state to take herself home. Her shaking hands make their way to her mom's contact, calling her and holding her phone up to her ear. Each ring that fades in and out throughout the speaker only makes her panic, even more, worried her mom won't pick up and she'll be alone. The voicemail system tells her to leave a message and after the beep, she tries her best to get words out.
"M-mom? Um... I think it's uh... h-happening again. Can y-ou please p-pick me up?" You can practically hear the lump in the back of her throat while she talks, her breathing still erratic as well. Holly hangs up the phone and drops it on the table before she places her hands on it and rests her weight on them while she hunches over. She's so out of it that she didn't even hear the door open and shut behind her while she was on the phone. Harry can hear her stuttering and breathing, as well as what she told her mom and now knows what's wrong with her.
He walks up to her with calculated steps, making sure that he's not being too loud that he'll freak her out but not too quiet that she'll be spooked when she sees him. Harry, very gently places a hand beside her on the table where she was staring. He was going to touch her shoulder but doesn't know how she'll react in this state.
She sees his hand and knows it's him because of the cross tattoo on his hand. Holly glances over at him and words didn't need to be spoken for her to tell him what was happening. He takes his eyes off of her to pull a chair out for her to sit on. "Sit down," he tells her calmly and she does exactly as he says, resting her hand on her knees while her breathing is still shaky. "Let's talk about our weirdest customers yeah?" He smiles, trying to calm her down. She gives him a weird look, half wondering how this would help and the other half wondering why he even wants to help. "Come on miss judgemental, you always have something to say about a customer in the breakroom."
"Um... t-there's uh, Whip... Whipped Cream Wanda," she tells him, tears streaming down her face. She's not sobbing though, only a few tears.
"Oh so you've started giving them names now too," he chuckles. There's a look in his eyes where he hopes that she'll laugh at his joke with him or even just a slight smile but she didn't.
"More f-fun that way," she says.
"I see. Well, Whipcream Wanda is definitely a good choice, I had to refill the whipped cream yesterday and after she came it was empty again. But who's next?" He keeps talking, trying to distract her mind.
"That uh... g-guy that comes in and a-asks for water with c-caramel syrup," she tells him, slowly but surely beginning to calm down
"No name?" The same warm smile stays on his lips. He's acting as if she's not having a panic attack and it's just a normal conversation. But they both know it's not normal and that he's trying to distract her. Their conversations would never be this civil.
"Swampy S-sam."
"Ah, cause it look likes swap water... smart." He taps his temple. "Who else, don't stop."
"Finger Wand Milly," she says, which earns an odd look from Harry.
"Who's that?" He tilts his head with his brows furrowed.
"The girl who a-always comes in to flirt with you," she tells him. "She twists her h-hair around her fingers when she talks."
"She... she was flirting?" His eyes nearly bulge out of his head. He had no clue that she was flirting, he just thought she was friendly. It wouldn't matter anyways, he wasn't interested in her.
"Yeah but-but it was funny to watch because she's so b-bad at it," she chuckles... finally.
"There we are." Her smile only grows at his words. "So you had a problem with her flirting with me huh?" He teases
"N-no, I just don't l-like her because you get distracted a-and stop working," she explains.
"Sure," he drags the word and fills it with sarcasm, earning an eye roll from Holly. "I personally hate Vanilla Swirl Sully. Longest order ever!" Her breathing has seemed to get better but she's not making eye contact anymore as she tries to calm herself down even more and he takes that as a cue for him to leave. When he goes to stand her head snaps up to him and the look on her face is almost one of fear.
"Where are you going?" She asks, sounding more nervous than before.
"Just gonna finish cleaning up. I'm not leaving you," he tells her and she nods. He walks over to the table she was cleaning, takes the rag that Holly was using and finishes the job before moving to get the empty cups from the table over.
"How did you know what to do?" She asks out of nowhere although she does sound a lot calmer.
"My sister gets panic attacks," he tells her. "Over time, I learnt what helps her and... hoped it would help you to."
"Oh," she says. Harry doesn't do or say anything but gives a small nod and gets back to work. He finishes cleaning the shop quite quickly while Holly focused on her breathing and calming down.
When Harry finished closing tasks, he hung up both of their aprons and grabbed her bag and his keys. "Ready to go?"
Holly opens her eyes and lifts her head to look at him. "What?" She speaks.
"You really think I'm just gonna leave you to go home on your own?" He says. "Common, let me drive you home." He smiles and walks up to her, giving her a hand which she takes and stands up.
She begins walking and Harry wraps a friendly arm around her shoulder. "Please don't tell anyone," she whispers.
Harry's brows furrow as he looks at her, he can see how worried she is that he'll gossip about her panic attacks at school. "I promise you, Holly. Promise I won't," he says.
"Thank you," she smiles.
"Of course," Harry says before they both get in the car. Putting their seatbelts on, Harry pulls out of his parking spot and then hands her his phone. "I don't know if you want to listen to music right now but my password is 4279 if you do."
Holly is quite confused by Harry's kindness. She's used to bickering. She's to the arrogant asshole that is Harry Styles. Not someone who is helping her through a panic attack, driving her home and giving her control over the music. "Why are you being so nice?" She asks randomly.
Harry looks over to her like she's insane. "I know we argue a lot but did you really think I'd just throw you to the wolves? I'm not a complete asshole Holly."
"No I didn't- sorry that all came out wrong. I'm just not used to this," she explains. "Thank you."
"You don't need to thank me, it's just basic human decency." He shakes his head. "Can I ask you something?"
"You just did," she teases.
"Shut up." He rolls his eyes. "Um... tell me to go fuck myself if I'm crossing a boundary but uh... how often have you been having... you know." Now it's Harry feeling nervous. He doesn't want to make her feel uncomfortable or think that he's somehow making fun of her.
"Calm down Harry... I don't bite," she laughs. "I'm fine telling you just... can you please promise you won't tell anyone anything from tonight? Please I-"
"Holly I already told you I wouldn't tell anyone. We argue sure, but you can trust me." He turns his head to look at her ever so often and see her picking at her cuticles.
She nods her head, taking in his words before she works up the courage and tells him. "I've been getting them pretty often for the past year or so. I usually have a few a week I guess. My parents are going through a divorce and school has been stressful, especially because we're in junior year it feels like my entire future depends on what grades I get this year and..." she sighs, "it's just a lot of pressure."
"I get it, it can definitely be stressful. I'm sorry about your paren-" Harry begins but is cutoff by Holly.
"Don't apologize, it's not your fault and I don't want sympathy," she tells him firmly.
"Okay. Well... if you ever need someone to talk Holly, I'm always here," he tells her honestly. "You can talk to me."
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