Summary: Y/N and Harry share a quiet, intimate evening, wrapped up in each other’s warmth. When Y/N tells him she’s ready, Harry treats her with endless patience and love, making sure she feels safe every step of the way. Though the moment isn’t perfect, it’s theirs.
A/N: My loves!! 🥹💗 This one is so soft and intimate, and Harry is just the sweetest, most patient angel!! I wanted this to feel real, full of love, trust, and tenderness. As said in this request. I hope it makes your heart all warm and fuzzy!! Thank you for reading, and sending you all the biggest hugs!!
Word Count: 3,8k
Warnings:
Explicit sexual content
Loss of virginity
Pain/discomfort during sex – Mention of initial discomfort, burning sensation, and difficulty adjusting.
Tears/emotional intensity
Blood mention – Small amount of blood described.
Consent-focused interaction – Constant verbal check-ins and reassurance.
Aftercare – Detailed care and comfort post-intimacy.
☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆
The evening was slow, unhurried in the best way. The kind of night where the outside world melted away, leaving just the two of them wrapped in the golden glow of soft lamplight and the warmth of each other's presence.
Harry’s apartment felt impossibly cozy, plush cushions, blankets piled on the couch, the distant hum of a carefully curated playlist filling the quiet spaces between their words. The scent of something faintly sweet lingered in the air, remnants of the dessert they had shared after dinner. A movie played on the television, the volume low, but neither of them were really paying attention.
Y/N was curled up against Harry’s side, her legs tangled with his, fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns over his forearm. It was such a simple touch, but it meant everything. She could feel his steady breathing, the occasional squeeze of his fingers against her thigh, the way his thumb ghosted back and forth over her skin in a rhythm that felt instinctual. She felt safe. And that was what mattered most.
The thought had been lingering in her mind for days, maybe weeks—long enough for it to take root, for it to grow into something more than just a fleeting idea. At first, it had been just that: a thought, a possibility that she had entertained but wasn’t quite ready to act on. But things had changed. Harry made her feel different.
It wasn’t just the way he touched her, though that was part of it—the way his hands never wandered without purpose, how he always seemed to ask permission without words. It was the way he looked at her, like she was something to be cherished, something precious. It was the way he spoke to her, soft and patient, never pushing, never demanding.
And that’s how she knew she was ready.
The words formed in her throat before she could second-guess them. Soft, hesitant, but certain.
“I think I’m ready.”
She felt the way Harry stilled beneath her. Not tense, not alarmed, just still. He processed her words in real time, a slow blink, a small inhale, before shifting to look at her fully. The flickering light from the television cast delicate shadows over his face, but she could still see everything—the concern in his eyes, the way his brows twitched like he was about to ask a million questions at once but held himself back.
His fingers found her cheek, brushing along the curve of her jaw, tilting her chin just enough that she couldn’t look away. “Yeah?” His voice was barely above a whisper, a careful thing.
Y/N swallowed, nodding. “Yeah.”
Harry’s thumb ghosted over her bottom lip. “You’re sure?”
She could hear the weight behind his words. He wasn’t asking for reassurance for himself—he was giving her an out. An opportunity to change her mind, to take a step back if she needed to. There was no rush, no expectation. She didn’t hesitate. “I want this. With you.”
A slow breath left Harry’s lips, his shoulders deflating, like he had been bracing for something else. His fingers curled around her cheek, his palm warm and grounding. He studied her for a moment longer, searching for any flicker of doubt, anything that would make him pause. But all he found was certainty. He nodded, pressing his forehead against hers, his breath warm against her skin. “Okay, love.”
There was a pause, a shift, like something in the air had changed between them. The unspoken tension from earlier—the one that had settled between their bodies, lingering just out of reach—was now tangible.
But this time, it wasn’t uncertainty. It was anticipation.
Harry let the silence stretch between them. His fingers traced along her jaw, slow and reverent, his gaze never wavering. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, and it wasn’t just about the way she looked. It was everything—her trust, her vulnerability, the way she was giving this part of herself to him without hesitation.
Y/N’s breath hitched as his lips brushed over hers, soft at first, just the ghost of a kiss. A question. A promise.
Then he kissed her again, deeper this time, as his hands found her waist, pulling her just a little closer. He wasn’t rushing, wasn’t pushing. Every movement was measured, deliberate, designed to make her feel safe, cherished. His fingers traced the hem of her shirt, a silent request, and when she nodded, he lifted it over her head, discarding it somewhere behind them.
His lips barely left hers, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses along her jaw, down the column of her throat. “So perfect,” he whispered against her skin. “So good for me.” His words sent a shiver through her, warmth pooling low in her belly.
She felt the roughness of his calloused fingers against the soft skin of her waist, sliding up, teasing along the underside of her breast before finally—finally—brushing over her nipple. She sucked in a breath, her body arching instinctively into his touch.
Harry groaned, low and deep. “Love the way you react to me.” He rolled the sensitive peak between his fingers, watching the way her lips parted, her lashes fluttering.
He leaned down, taking her nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking over it just to feel her shudder beneath him. His free hand splayed across her back, grounding her, keeping her close.
Y/N let out a soft whimper, her fingers threading into his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan against her skin. The sound went straight through her, making her thighs clench around his waist.
But Harry wasn’t done taking his time.
He eased her down onto the couch, kissing a slow path down her stomach, his fingers working on the waistband of her leggings. “Lift your hips for me, baby,” he murmured, and she did, letting him pull them down along with her underwear in one smooth motion.
A flush spread across her chest, warmth crawling up her neck as she laid bare beneath him. But she wasn’t nervous. Not with him.
Harry settled between her thighs, pressing a kiss just above her knee, then another, trailing higher and higher. “Been thinking about this,” he admitted, voice husky. “Been wanting to taste you.”
The words sent a fresh wave of arousal through her, and Harry must have noticed because he groaned, his fingers gripping her thighs just a little tighter.
Then he kissed her there—soft at first, just a teasing press of his lips against her.
Y/N gasped, her back arching as his tongue traced along her folds, slow and deliberate. He was savoring her, taking his time, learning what made her sigh, what made her whimper.
He flicked his tongue over her clit, drawing a sharp inhale from her lips. “That’s it, baby,” he murmured, his breath hot against her. “Let me hear you.”
She had no control over the sounds slipping from her mouth as he worked her, his tongue alternating between soft, teasing licks and firm, focused strokes. Her thighs trembled, her fingers twisting in his curls, pulling him impossibly closer.
Harry moaned against her, the vibration making her hips jerk. “Fuck,” she whimpered, and he hummed in approval, gripping her thighs tighter as he devoured her.
The pressure built quickly, heat coiling in her stomach, her body tensing with the impending release. “Harry”
“I’ve got you, love,” he soothed, pressing his tongue flat against her clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles until she shattered beneath him.
Her thighs clenched around his head as pleasure flooded through her, her entire body trembling as he guided her through it, his hands firm on her hips, keeping her grounded.But he didn’t stop.
She barely had a moment to catch her breath before he was kissing his way back up her body, dragging her onto his lap. “Again, baby,” he murmured, his hands gripping her hips, guiding her to straddle his thigh.
Y/N’s head was spinning, but the need in his voice, the sheer adoration in his eyes, made her move. She pressed herself against him, gasping at the pressure, at the way his hands steadied her, encouraged her. He guided her movements, slow and steady, letting her find her rhythm, his lips brushing against her ear. “Take what you need, sweetheart.”
And she did. She rocked against him, chasing the friction, feeling the heat build all over again. Harry’s hands never stopped moving—trailing up her back, gripping her waist, tilting her hips just right. His lips were everywhere—her neck, her shoulder, her jaw—whispering sweet praises against her skin.
“That’s my girl.”
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful like this.”
“Let go for me, baby.”
She tumbled into her second release with a soft cry, her body shuddering against his. Harry held her through it, his arms wrapped tightly around her, pressing soft kisses to her hair as she came down.
Breathless but still sure.
The weight of the moment settled between them—heavy in the best way, filling the space with warmth and something almost sacred. Y/N’s body was still trembling, her mind hazy from pleasure, but even through the overwhelming sensation, she knew this wasn’t the end.
Harry knew it too.
He was still holding her, his hands gentle as they traced slow, soothing patterns across her back, grounding her. His lips ghosted over her temple, murmuring soft praises that made her chest tighten with something unspoken. “So perfect,” he whispered. “So good for me.”
She melted into him, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of him—clean and warm, mixed with the faintest hint of cologne and something entirely him.
His hands skimmed down her sides, resting on her waist as he shifted beneath her. She could feel him—hard and heavy, pressed between them, the evidence of just how much he wanted her. And she wanted him, too.
She swallowed, her heart pounding as she lifted her head to meet his gaze. There was something unguarded in his eyes, something raw and devastatingly tender.
“I want you,” she murmured, voice barely above a whisper.
Harry’s breath hitched, his fingers tightening on her hips. “Are you really sure?”
She nodded, her hands coming up to cup his face. “I’m sure.”
His eyes searched hers, looking for even the slightest hesitation. But there wasn’t any.
Still, he didn’t rush. He never rushed with her.
Instead, he shifted, gently guiding her onto her back, settling between her thighs with deliberate slowness. His lips found hers again, softer this time, reverent. Like he was memorizing her, mapping out every part of her he hadn’t already claimed.
His fingers trailed down her body, brushing over her stomach before dipping lower. He slipped two fingers inside her, moving slow, preparing her all over again, making sure she was ready.
Y/N whimpered, her hips rolling instinctively toward his touch. “Harry,” she gasped, fingers clutching at his biceps.
“I know, baby,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her jaw. “Just wanna make sure you’re okay.”
“I am,” she breathed. “I promise.”
He hesitated for only a moment longer before finally reaching between them, lining himself up. The tip of his cock brushed against her entrance, already slick and glistening from how worked up she was.
But even with all the preparation, she still felt tight, still felt that flicker of nervousness.
Harry noticed instantly.
“Breathe, baby,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. He nudged in just a little, barely entering her, letting her body adjust at her own pace.
The stretch was more intense than she had expected. A sharp, insistent pressure that made her body go rigid beneath him, her fingers gripping onto the sheets as she tried to will herself to relax. The initial burn spread through her like a slow-moving flame, and instinctively, her thighs clamped tighter around him.
Harry felt it immediately—the way she tensed, the way her breath hitched, her entire body instinctively fighting against the intrusion. He froze, one hand coming up to cup her cheek, thumb stroking softly over her heated skin. “Hey, baby,” he whispered, voice drenched in tenderness. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then another to the tip of her nose, his lips featherlight. “You’re doing so good for me, so good. But we can stop. Anytime, okay? Just say the word.”
She shook her head, a small, shaky breath escaping her lips. She didn’t want to stop. She wanted this—with him. She had thought about this for days, weeks even, and she had never felt safer with anyone than she did now. Even through the discomfort, the unfamiliarity, there was nowhere else she would rather be than right here, wrapped up in him, giving him this piece of herself.
“I want this,” she murmured, voice soft but resolute. “I trust you.”
Something shifted in his gaze then, something warm and reverent, like he was seeing her in a way he never had before. He nodded slowly, dipping down to capture her lips in a kiss so sweet it nearly made her melt.
“Okay, sweetheart,” he murmured, his forehead pressing against hers. “We’ll go slow. You just tell me what you need.”
And he did go slow, agonizingly so. He rocked forward just an inch, letting her adjust, then another, always watching her face for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. His hands never stopped moving, fingers tracing idle patterns along her hips, massaging gently at her sides, keeping her grounded in him, in this moment.
But it still hurt. Even with all the patience in the world, even with how careful he was, the stretch was relentless. Her nails dug into his shoulders, holding onto him like an anchor, her breath uneven.
Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes before she even realized they were there. Not because it was unbearable, not because she regretted it, but because it was overwhelming—the weight of it, the intimacy of it. The sheer vulnerability of it all.
Harry noticed instantly. He always did. His expression crumbled, something pained flashing across his features before he dipped his head down, brushing his lips over her damp cheeks, kissing away the evidence of her struggle.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he whispered against her skin. “I know, I know. ‘M so sorry. Just breathe, baby. Breathe for me.”
A sudden sting bloomed deep inside her, pulling a sharp gasp from her lips. She squeezed her eyes shut, fingers tightening their grip on him as her body fought to adjust.
Harry froze. “Fuck,” he breathed, his voice tight with restraint. “Sweetheart, I—shit, I know. I know. ‘M so sorry, baby.”
A flicker of red smeared where they were joined, a tangible mark of this moment, of what she had given him, something so fragile and precious. His jaw clenched at the sight, guilt flashing across his features even though she had reassured him over and over that she wanted this. That she had chosen this.
He tried to move, to ease some of the pressure, but the second he did, she let out the softest wince, her body recoiling slightly. His forehead dropped to hers, breath shuddering.
“We don’t have to make this perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “We can stop, baby. Right now. It doesn’t have to be anything more than this.”
She blinked up at him, her vision still slightly blurred with unshed tears, but she shook her head. She didn’t want to stop. She wanted to push through, to move past the discomfort and settle into this feeling of being so wholly his.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “Just... give me a second.”
He did. Of course he did. He stayed still, his body barely moving, his weight supported by his forearms so he wouldn’t press down on her too much. He let her adjust, let her breathing steady, let her decide when she was ready. His lips never left her skin, pressing slow, reverent kisses along her jaw, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. Soft praises spilled from his lips, each one more patient than the last.
And when she finally felt ready, when the sting dulled into something more manageable, she gave him a small nod.
“You can move,” she whispered.
Harry exhaled slowly, as if he had been holding his breath this entire time. His hips rolled forward, just the tiniest bit, testing. His touch was delicate, his movements careful, like he was afraid of breaking her. And maybe, in some way, he was.
It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t some earth-shattering moment of pleasure, some blissful crescendo of passion. She didn’t come this time, and that was okay. He didn’t make her feel like she had to. He just held her. He kissed her. He told her how proud he was of her, how much he loved her, how beautiful she was like this, bare and vulnerable in his arms.
And when it was over, when he finally pulled away, his first instinct wasn’t to take care of himself, but to take care of her. He kissed her forehead, brushed the damp strands of hair from her face, whispered, “You did so good for me, sweetheart.”
And she believed him.
Her body felt different, tender, a little sore, but wrapped in a warmth that had nothing to do with the sheets tangled around them and everything to do with him. She barely noticed the way her breath still came unevenly, her muscles weak and trembling, until Harry was shifting beside her, brushing the back of his fingers down her cheek.
“Let me take care of you, love.”
She didn’t protest when he pressed another kiss to her forehead and slid out of bed, moving with quiet purpose toward the bathroom. The distant sound of water running filled the air, accompanied by soft rustling—cabinets opening, bottles clinking together. The warm, floral scent of rose and vanilla drifted into the room, and her lips curled into the faintest smile.
He was drawing her a bath.
The realization sent a fresh wave of emotion crashing over her, something deep and overwhelming settling in her chest. She’d always known Harry was thoughtful, always so gentle and attuned to her, but this—this was something else entirely. This was devotion.
By the time he returned, she was blinking sleepily at him, her body too heavy with exhaustion to move. He chuckled softly, crouching beside her, brushing a few damp strands of hair away from her face.
“Come on, sweetheart. Bath’s ready for you.”
She let him lift her, his hands strong but careful as he carried her to the bathroom. The air was warm, steam curling through the soft candlelight, and the sight that greeted her nearly took her breath away.
The bathtub was full, the surface of the water dotted with delicate rose petals, their deep crimson and soft pink hues floating amidst the gentle foam of bubbles. A few flickering candles lined the counter, casting a golden glow over the space, the light catching on the deep amber bottle of bath oil he’d added to the water. The scent of roses was richer here, blending with the faint traces of lavender.
She turned to him, her heart swelling. “Harry…”
“I wanted to make it special for you, baby.” He ran a soothing hand down her back. “You deserve it.”
Carefully, he helped her into the warm water, easing her down as her sore muscles sighed in relief. The heat wrapped around her like a cocoon, soothing the ache between her thighs, and a soft moan of contentment slipped from her lips.
Harry smiled, his dimples peeking through as he knelt beside the tub, rolling up the sleeves of his t-shirt. “Feels good, yeah?”
She nodded, already sinking deeper, letting the petals drift lazily around her arms as she closed her eyes for a moment.
Harry didn’t just leave her there. He stayed, always so present, his fingers tracing along her arm before he reached for a soft washcloth. He dipped it into the warm water, then ran it over her skin, slow and reverent, as if cleansing her was an act of worship. He worked gently, wiping away the lingering remnants of sweat and love, murmuring sweet praises all the while.
“So beautiful.”
“M’so proud of you, angel.”
“Love you more than anything.”
His voice was a balm, each whispered word soothing her more than the water ever could.
At one point, he reached for the bottle of shampoo, pouring some into his palm before working it through her hair with practiced ease. His fingers massaged her scalp, and she sighed, tipping her head back slightly as he washed away the remnants of the night with the same patience and tenderness he had shown her in bed.
When he was done, he kissed her temple and whispered, “Stay as long as you want, sweetheart. I’ll be right here.”
But she didn’t want to stay in the water forever—not when Harry was waiting for her.
When she finally let him help her out, he wrapped her in a thick, fluffy towel, pressing a kiss to her damp hair as he whispered, “Let’s get you comfy, yeah?”
Back in the bedroom, he dressed her in one of his oversized shirts, the hem brushing just above her knees, the fabric swallowing her up in a way that made her feel impossibly small and safe. He tucked her into bed, then climbed in beside her, pulling her against his chest.
His arms curled around her, holding her close, his fingers drawing slow, soothing patterns on her back.
“D’you need anything, baby? Water? Something to eat?”
She shook her head, sighing against him. “Just you.”
His grip tightened ever so slightly, his lips pressing to her forehead. “Always, love.”
As her eyelids grew heavier, she heard him whisper one last thing against her skin, a quiet promise she knew he would always keep. “Sleep, baby. I’ve got you.”
☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆
Thank you so much for reading, you’re a total angel! Don’t forget to like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed! It means everything to me! 💖
description: “a fic about professor!Harry and a psychological experiment with candies that leads to a whole lot more…”
pairing: professor!harry x reader
warnings: sexual content, abusing relationship, angst, fluff
{part two} - angst, fluff, sexual content
gravity - by @moonchildstyles
description: “y/n hated physics but harry loved it, but both of them have a couple of secrets.”
pairing: camboy!harry, shy!harry universitystudent!harry x universitystudent!y/n
warnings: sexual content, swearing
love on tour - by @finelinevogue
description: “you join harry for love on tour”
pairing: hslot!harry x y/n
warnings: swearing, smut
MLB curious gazes - by @erodasfishtacos
description: (prompt) “four different situations where people have run into or hung out with MLB!H - told from their perspective.”
pairing: dad mlb!harry x wife!y/n
warnings: language, mentions of sexual content
your beating heart - by @havethetimeofyourstyles
description: “in which Harry’s your soulmate and you don’t quite know that yet.”
pairing: physical therapist!harry x professor!yn
warnings: slight angst, mentions of heart condition and flatlining
the empowering hearts - by @havethetimeofyourstyles
description: “in which you’re a lonely model until you meet a baker.”
pairing: baker!harry x gorgeous model!y/n
warnings: mentions of emotional abuse, anxiety, and alcohol consumption
bunny’s love on tour, literally - by @misskathcake
description: before, during, and after Vegas.
pairing: husband HSLOT!Harry x wife stylist!Sophia
warnings: swearing
soulmates - by @haroldloverboy
description: “in which Harry and Y/N are soulmates.”
pairing: university!harry x y/n
warnings: sexual content
soft - by @moonchildstyles
description: “harry is y/ns best friend, so she thought she knew everything about him. but, it looks like they both had some secrets: harry thought about her a lot more than she realized and y/n has really soft hands.”
pairing: bestfriend!harry x y/n
warnings: sexual content, swearing
oh, anna! - by @stylesloveclub
description: “in which Y/N is sweet as honey, and Harry is hopelessly in love with his best friend.”
pairing: bestfriend!harry x y/n
warnings: swearing, sexual content
grammy bunny - by @misskathcake
description: “post-Grammy party for the bunny.”
pairing: husband famous!harry x wife stylist!sophia
warnings: swearing
meet me in the copy room - by @stylesharrys
description: “Harry is Y/N’s boss but he likes his secretary more than he should.”
pairing: CEO!harry x assistant!y/n
warnings: swearing, sexual content
you again - by @jarofstyles
description: “Harry regrets not getting the number of a girl he met at a speed dating event over a year ago.”
description: Harry has a massive crush on Y/N, the nicest and most popular girl in school.
pairing: older!harry x y/n
warnings: sexual content, swearing
louder on set - by @havethetimeofyourstyles
description: in which Harry stumbles across your livestream.
pairing: roommate/best friend!harry x bi/camgirl!y/n
warnings: sexual content, girl x girl smut, male masturbation
teacher’s pet - by @jarofstyles
description: Harry is worried about his student Y/N for multiple reasons.
pairing: professor!harry x y/n
warnings: sexual content, mutual masturbation, use of sex toys
{part two} - smut, sexting, use of sex toys, dirty talk
invisible string - by @secretly-a-cold-blooded-murderer
description: in a world where soulmates are connected by an invisible red thread, how would you find yours?
pairing: famous!harry x journalist!y/n
warnings: none
symptoms of kindness - by @harriefromtheblock
description: an enemies to lovers college au following harry styles, the son of a British diplomat, and y/n as they navigate junior fall, a final project, and empathy together (some more successfully than others)
pairing: university lhh!harry x y/n
warnings: swearing, drinking, implied sexual content
rosemary - by @moonchildstyles
description: “harry has a lot of secrets and has perfected the art of being alone. y/n likes to wear bows in her hair and tries harder than anyone harry has ever known.”
pairing: ex-hitman!harry x y/n
warnings: swearing, sexual content
dolcezza - by @1d1195
description: “Harry works in an Italian restaurant. She just moved into the apartment above it. Harry thinks she's a princess and should be treated as such. She has never felt the way Harry makes her feel.”
pairing: cook!harry x y/n
warnings: swearing, sexual content
flower - by @finelinefae
description: “harry's the boy next door, he's also a tattoo artist aannd y/n's sexual awakening because she's an innocent virgin with a flower shop.”
pairing: tattoo!harry x innocent!y/n
warnings: swearing, sexual content
lovesick - by @harrysbabycherry
description: “harry just wants y/n’s number and she’s not interested. at least that’s what she says.”
pairing: older!harry x innocent!y/n
warnings: swearing, sexual content
bambi - by @finelinefae
description: “y/n tries a dating app and meets the CEO of Pleasing”
description: "On the edge of a fading summer, y/n finds herself visiting a countryside inn known for its strawberry milk and ghost stories. The guests are peculiar, the clocks all run slow, time slips in dreamy spirals, and when Harry arrives… sweet, sun-drenched, and soft-eyed… nothing feels real. But the strawberries were sweeter than ever."
This can be read as a standalone I think, but! Here is a second part of Merlot! It's spicy and sweet so I hope you guys like it. Unsure if there will be any more parts (I’m open if you guys have more ideas!) but I do love a good dilfrry.
Check out our Patreon for early access and 200+ exclusive writings!
WC- 4.1k
Warnings- smut, age gap relationship, anal (for those who asked ur welcome!), unprotected sex, cumplay, Dom/sub elements
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Harry was by far the best man she had ever dated.
Their age gap was evident at times, but not in a bad way. It was rather cute when he had been confused about videos she sent or his own excitement to show her the movies or books he was referencing. The added element of their dynamic was learning from one another. Harry had been teaching her about publishing and helping her flesh out the first draft of her book while she sat in his office some days, helping him out in return by getting him coffee or lunch or an occasional shoulder massage when he got particularly stressed. An unofficial assistant of sorts.
“I feel like if I have to write the word ‘said’ one more time, my brain is going to explode.” She grumbled, pushing her laptop across the couch and leaning back on it. The leather seat in his office was by far the most comfortable one she had sat on and he happily invited her to come into the office to see him as often as she wanted. It was both practical and selfish on both ends.It was easier to work in a space like this and with the understanding that Harry really did have work he was doing, she focused on her own stuff. A quiet pair of people working in each other’s company.
Add in the fact that he was the boss man, it made it much easier for her to come and go as she pleased.
“Mm, sometimes authors get stuck with words in their novels. They’ll have phrases they repeat a few too many times, usually gets called out in editing and fixed. It’s not a bad thing. But with words that are action words like that, there are options. Y’know, depending on the scene and tone. Murmured, muttered, peeped, whispered, whined, moaned, huffed, grumbled. Those sorts of words.” He tapped his pen against the desk as he lifted his eyes to her.
It didn’t get old. Seeing her pretty face sitting in his office looking the way she did, much more comfortable than the night they’d first met, but still appropriate for an office setting.
Sometimes he did let his mind wander into the roleplay aspect, wondering if she had been his real assistant if he would have made a move. If Y/N was the Y/N he knew now? Probably. Scandalous.
Today she wore a pair of black flowy pants and a matching turtleneck, but on top she had a chunky knit cardigan that was utterly adorable. It had yellow moons and stars, a deep purple color with sleeves she had to push up so they didn’t hide her hands. His girl leaned into the office aesthetic when she came in so she didn’t stick out too much but with him or when they were at his place or out together, he loved seeing her dressed in her normal clothing. She looked soft, whimsical almost. Like a little fairy.
“Hm. Good point. I need to write down all the synonyms in my notes app and defer to that because if I’m getting tired of writing it, I know whoever ends up reading it will get tired of seeing it too.” Her lips puffed to blow a strand of hair that had fallen from her bun, brows furrowed as she failed and made her hand ready up to tuck it behind her ear instead.
Again, cute.
“Not necessarily.” He replied, leaning back in his chair. “We’re our own harshest critics. I doubt they’re paying that much attention to that. The majority of people will be paying attention to world building, character development, plot, sex scenes, all that fun stuff. The exact wording isn’t always the most important thing. But it shows that you care about quality.” He shot her a grin. “So you will be successful.”
“Mmm… and not because I’m fucking the publishing head?” She grinned as she stood up, stretching her arms out.
“Well. That helps.” He wouldn’t deny it. She had a leg up, but he wouldn’t publish just anything. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t publish shit work. It isn’t worth the reputation of my company. Your writing is genuinely good, my sweet.” He knew the drill by now. Her heeled boots were kicked off by the couch and she made her way over to him, the tiredness starting to hit her as she happily perched herself on his lap.
“Good to know.” She snorted before pressing a kiss to his scruffy cheek. The facial hair had grown but he was shaping it currently. She promised she’d be okay with whatever he did to it but didn’t want anything to happen to the mustache. That wasn’t allowed to go. “What are you working on? Anything fun?”
“No, nothing incredibly interesting I’m afraid.” His hand squeezed her hip underneath the cardigan. “I was working on some contracts earlier but every so often I pick up some submissions and read through them myself. This one is very bland, unfortunately. There’s potential, absolutely. Their writing style is lovely, but the plot falls flat and the characters are one dimensional. S’like they chose a specific stereotype and did nothing to differentiate them.” It was unfortunate.” It was a shame he came across all too often.
“It’s obvious this person is trying but they’ve never observed or met someone with these traits. I don’t think you absolutely have to follow the rule ‘write what you know’, but I think a lot of the best works come from drawing from our own experiences. Romance, for them, doesn’t seem to be a passion. They’d do better with mystery with their writing style as it is, but they have to improve on other aspects first.”
“Is it hard for you to see stuff like that?” She asked curiously, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. “I can tell you’re a little disappointed with it, so I have to wonder if it happens a lot.”
“It does. And it is hard when you see someone with potential not living up to it but I have faith that if we send them some constructive criticism notes that maybe they won’t see it as an attack but as a place of genuine care. I’m going to have someone meet with them I think, give them my notes and have them explain it in nicer terms than the plain ones I used. Maybe they can work on it again and add more and we’d have a best seller.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I can see they care about it in the way they put details in, but it needs more.”
There was something incredibly attractive about listening to him talk about it. It was always attractive to see someone care and talk about their passions; but Harry was on another level. She could see it on his face that he was disappointed and knew the person could do better. While it made it all the more nerve wracking for her own novel, she had him working with her along the way.
He never told her where to go with her story in terms of ideas, but how to improve the mechanics. Reading over bits and telling her to take away a certain detail and add more in other places, or giving suggestions about how things could flow smoother. He’d listened to her storyboard, after showing her the author equivalent of it, and gave his honest feedback from a publisher's point of view and then from a boyfriend’s point of view.
Sometimes it was more obvious that he was the one with miles more life experience in these instances but she couldn’t be upset about it when it only aided in strengthening their relationship.
“I see.” She looked at the manuscript on the desk with the red pen of doom. “Oof. The red pen is out… and you’ve used it a lot.”
“Well, there are errors.” He chuffed, kissing her cheek in return. “Did you get enough done?” The word count goal had been 3,000 for today, but he didn’t make it for her. It was all on her. He simply helped keep her accountable.
“I did more. I think… 4.5?” She tilted her head trying to remember. “Now my head feels like soup.” It did feel like mush right now. That was why the laptop was closed and abandoned and she was finding comfort in the man. It was like a reward.
“That’s ace, my dove. Amazing.” He praised. The pride he felt for her was earned fair and square. She had been applying herself more now than ever. Since their first night together they hadn’t really separated, seeing each other at least a few times a week. Her work ethic was there as she had zeroed in on what she wanted. “Why don’t we finish this up and go back to mine, mm?”
Harry had been holding off all week. He’d gone a bit rough one night and even though she said she was fine, he wanted to give her body time to relax. As much as he loved sex, he had wanted her body to enjoy it more than anything else. Not be overly swollen and sore the next day.
Today was going to be the day to break that. A full week of nothing but heated kisses, and she was as needy as needy could get. He felt her perk up at the mention, sitting up straighter in his lap.
“Please! Let’s go. We can get food on the way home but I think we have some pressing matters to attend to.” She sniffed, standing from him and offering a hand to help him up. “Chop chop. Get a move on, mister.”
——-
Two rounds in and he knew she could take it. Her poor cunt was a mess and he knew that as pretty as it was all drippy and swollen, she had been aching for him to get a try into her other hole. They’d had a proper discussion about it, and he had effectively been edging her the entire night. Fair? No, but she knew how he rolled. The promised pleasure first, experiments after. Just in case she wanted to stop, she got something out of the night.
She’d been warming his cock for a bit as he held her in his arms, cooing soft praises about how good of a girl she was, how brave she had been to ask for something new tonight when he felt her get impatient. She didn’t need to say it. He knew her well enough now to understand what she wanted. Pulling his cock out and rubbing the tip against her asshole, pressing against it and spreading the sticky cum over the rim. “Want me t’fuck this tight little ass too? Fill you from both ends."
“Wanna try.” She nodded, panting as her cunt contracted and his cum dribbled out of her pussy. “You’re so big I… I dunno if I can take it. Go slow.” Y/N knew she was slightly cock drunk but she also trusted him. He’d made her feel good already, took his time with everything else why wouldn’t she want to test this with him?
“Okay, my sweet. Just relax.” Harry wasn’t nervous, but he was cautious. His girl was precious cargo, and he wanted to make sure it felt as good as it could. He’d done the work of stretching her with his fingers, but it was going to be a challenge to get him in there regardless. He slowly pushed his thick head past the tight rim of her back hole. Watching her face intently, his own contorted with pleasure. "You're doing so good, doll," he encouraged softly. "Just relax and let me in. You can take it."
The pressure was intense, and she hissed out a breath as he slowly pushed more and more of himself into her. His thick head stretched her wide, and he paused, letting her adjust to the new sensation. "Breathe." The reminder was whispered as he realized she was holding her breath, his hand carding through her hair tenderly.
"That's it, baby. You're taking it so well. Always do so good f’me." He praised, his voice low and soothing. He slowly pushed more of himself into her, inch by inch, his thick prick spreading her wide. She could feel every vein, every ridge, as he slowly filled her up.
As he slid deeper, Harry could feel the intense pressure and stretch around his girth. Her tight little hole was gripped tightly around his shaft, the muscles fluttering and contracting as he pushed his way inside. She felt like she was being split in two, her body struggling to accommodate his bigger size- but she was. Slowly but surely, he sunk into her fully.
She had done it.
“Fuck.” She sobbed out, clinging to him as he got down to the base. Never in her life had she felt so full that way, so stretched. Only Harry could make her feel this way. It wasn’t just the physical feeling, but the emotional one too. She trusted him more than she trusted anyone else. His guidance was priceless.
"You're doing so good, You’ve got it all in. Jus’ gotta let it adjust." he soothed, his voice strained as he fought to keep control. Giving her a moment to adjust, his hands stroking her hair and her cheeks, his thumb brushing away her tears. "You feel so hot around me, doll. So tight. Knew y’would be."
“I wanna be… I want you to feel good.” She whispered, looking at him with wet eyes. “It’s just so big. I’m tryin’ to take it.” It surely wasn't a beginner cock but she wasn’t known for taking the easy way.
"You're doing so well, baby," he reassured her, his hands never leaving her. He slowly pulled out halfway before sinking in again, a little faster this time. "That's it... take me all the way in."
It was the fourth time he did it that she felt the pleasure. Both from the action and the thatch of hair at the base of his cock rubbing against her swollen clit, making her gasp. Her eyes fell shut as she leaned her head back, slowly relaxing into the bed.
He watched her face contorted in pleasure, his heart swelling with pride. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice rough. As she opened her eyes, he began to pick up the pace, his hips pressing against hers. "M’so proud of you. Look at you, taking every bit of me.”
Y/N sent him a blissed out smile as her hand slipped between them, rubbing her own clit slowly as he fucked into her ass. There was nothing rushed about it, nothing frantic, and it felt good just to be. Her muscles relaxed, making it feel even better as his cock filled her hole. Soft moans left her mouth as she curled her other hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down so he was close. “Are they the best holes you’ve had?”
Harry’s face was lax in his own pleasure as he felt her tight ass clench around his cock. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his breath hot against her lips. “They are. So fucking tight, so perfect. Can’t compare them t’anything else.” He kept up his steady rhythm, loving how her body moved with his. “You feel so good. Can never get enough of you.” He whispered, brushing a stray hair out of her face before stroking her puffy lip. They were so pretty. Kissing wasn’t something he’d thought much of before, but he hadn’t kissed Y/N. She had changed everything for him.
“Better than that silly ex wife?” She prodded, watching with a little smirk as she watched him think it over. Y/N had a feeling she was by the way be was acting, but she wanted to hear it.
"Way better." he grunted, his hips snapping forward. "Little minx, y’just need to ask that, hm? No need to be jealous. She never gets t’have me again. Only y-you." He stuttered as her hand moved around his neck and she squeezed down hard on him. "Her holes were nothing compared to yours, doll. Nothing."
Y/N giggled as she choked him a little bit, watching his eyes widen before pulling. It was obvious that while he was the big man in charge- she could have fun too. “That’s what I like to hear. I’ll tell you a secret, Harry.” Her lips brushed his as she kept the grip on his throat. Her lips were swollen and sensitive, the coarse facial hair brushing it and making her want to moan. “None of the boys my age have ever made me cum. They never fucked my ass. Never fucked me raw. And you did it all.”
"And I'm gonna keep doing it," he rumbled, eyes burning with lust as she kissed him. His hand tightened in her hair, tugging gently and pulling her deeper into the kiss. “You’ve got a man now, no need to think of those boys.You want me t’keep being nice to you? Keep making you cum?”
“If you keep fucking me like this, I do. Want my man to be so, so nice to me.” She gasped as he pushed all the way in, balls rested snug against her ass as he slowly humped into her, the comfort of the fullness making her fingers work harder on her clit. “Gotta- Gotta prove you can keep up with me, old man. That you c-can live up to the hype. I like the bit of silver at your temples but…” Her moan was broken as he pulled out and pushed back in, jostling her. “Gotta prove why older guys are b-better for pretty little things like me.”
"Oh, I'll prove it to you," he growled, picking up pace as he pounded into her tight ass. She had no idea just how badly he’d needed her to walk into his life. Thank god she had. This was everything he had ever wanted. "And right now, you need me to wreck this little hole until you can't walk straight. You need me to show you how a real man handles his woman. I'll give you everything you crave, everything you need. You just have to let go and trust me.” The man had every intention of proving how much better he could be for her than she could ever imagine.
"Fuck, look at this cunt." He muttered, reaching down to spread her dripping pussy apart. "It's absolutely soaked, just dripping down. Love it, hm?” The smugness in his tone would usually make her scowl but there was no denying it. The proof was right there. It was undeniable. “You're so turned on, baby. It's making it easier for me to fuck this tight little ass of yours." The glossy, hard flesh glistened with slick, dripping down onto the bed beneath her. His own cum intermingled with her own, making his movements smoother as he pushed in and out of her, coating her holes with their combined essence.
Her face was a mask of pure ecstasy, her eyes rolled back in her head as she whimpered in pleasure, her hands gripping the sheets beneath her. Her asshole clenching and unclenching around his thick cock with each thrust, trying to milk him for all he was worth. Her body was feeling tingly, her legs trembling as he fucking into her ass, the sound of her arousal and his hips hitting her skin filling the room. She was completely lost in the pleasure, her mind clouded by the overwhelming sensation of being thoroughly fucked.
As she reached the peak of her orgasm, he took over and began rubbing her clit with his own thumb, the sensation sending waves of pleasure cascading through her body. She cried out, her pussy gushing as she came harder than she would have imagined being fucked like this. She was so overwhelmed that she could only hold limply onto his arms as he continued to pound into her, his thick cock stretching her hole as it thrust through the waves of her intense orgasm.
His face contorted, vein bulging in his neck as he struggled to hold back. "You feel too good, baby. I can't... I can't hold back any longer." His heavy balls drew up close to his body, ready to unleash another load inside of her. The feeling of her taut muscles milking him, the way she clung to him with every fiber of her being, it was too much. He was sensitive himself, but he wanted to deliver everything she wanted.
"Please, Harry...Please,come inside me... I wanna feel you fill me up. Want it everywhere." She panted, her voice desperate with need. Half of the fun of sex was seeing him lose that control he so easily held in all other scenarios. She wanted to make him feel just as good as he made her feel. He deserved it.
His restraint shattered at her words. "Fuck, you're gonna get what you asked for."
With a guttural groan, he buried his face in the crook of her neck and let go, his hot load pulsing into her hole in thick ropes. She felt each ribbon scalding her , marking her as his. "That's it, take it all... That’s m’girl.” He kept cumming, his cock twitching as he filled her. Ribbon after ribbon filled her up until she was overflowing with his load, almost overwhelmingly so. He finally slowed, his chest heaving, before gently pulling out of her ass, his cock glistening with the evidence of their fuck.
With a sense of possessive pride, he watched as his cum began to leak out of her stretched hole, dripping down her thighs. It was satisfying in the filthiest way. Primal and caveman in every sense of the word, he loved knowing that he had done it. He’d taken every one of her holes and made her his in the dirtiest type of way. He gently spread her cheeks apart, admiring the sight of his mark leaking from her. "Look at that... You're so full of me, S’that what you wanted?”
“Mhm.” She smiled, slightly drunk on the orgasm and the fact that he had pushed her further than anyone else had before. it was a good feeling in her body, the beginnings of soreness and the calming heat of his hands as he caressed her the way he wanted. “Exactly what I wanted. Think M’gonna have to keep you around so we can do that again.”
“I’d hope so.” He laughed tiredly, pushing back down to take her mouth for another kiss. “I’m far from finished with you, sweet little thing. But I think I’ve ravaged your body enough. Think you need a bath and some tea, get you ready to sleep.”
Aftercare wasn’t something she’d experienced in any other relationship either, but she realized now it was probably a Harry exclusive thing. He was phenomenal at it. A lot of things, honestly. He experimented with her responsibly, took care of her after every round of sex, checked in on her, made sure she was eating proper meals, and helped her with her career. She’d lucked out with him. Whatever his ex wife was thinking, she had no clue- but she wasn’t about to waste a single bit of him.
“Do you have chamomile?” She asked softly, pecking his lips in return.
“What do you take me for? Course I’ve got it.” He scoffed, pinching her chin. “But if I didn’t, I’d find some for you. Know it’s your favorite. Added it to the grocery list, along with your cereal, your rancid battery acid energy drinks, and the sweet and salty popcorn.”
“It’s good battery acid, I’ll have you know.” She giggled, carding her fingers through his hair. He did have a bit of gray going on the temples but it was sexy. Just hearing how much he cared and put effort into the tiny things made her giddy.
“Yeah, yeah. We can talk about your poison in the morning. It’s time to get clean and go t’sleep. Tomorrow may be the day you write five thousand words. You never know.”
warnings/tags: enemies to lovers, harry x fem oc, angst
[before you start: i edited this bc i ended up giving her name back to her, it’s no longer (y/n) but of course feel free to read it however you want and change the descriptors to whatever you prefer!]
The holiday season had wrapped up a handful of days ago and things were slowly starting to go back to normal. The sparkling strings of lights decorating neighborhoods and businesses all around the city were being taken down and shoved back in their storage boxes until the last month of the year circled around again. The weather was staying consistent, though. The gloomy overcast skies and chilly wind that whipped through the streets were enough to keep people bundled up and wishing for spring to arrive.
Most people she knew enjoyed the holidays a lot more than she did. Sure, she loved to see the colorful lights lining roofs and windows of boutiques and restaurants along the main strip. There was something so juvenile, so innocent about the giddy feeling that would fill her stomach as she saw a pile of fake presents and a decorated tree in a shop window. Somewhere deep down inside of her heart, she still had that spark that a child would have.
When she was growing up, she sought happiness during the holidays by admiring other people’s outdoor decorations or gazing in awe at the displays put up in her schools. She didn’t have what most people had that she went to school with, but she tried to be grateful, even as a young chlid, and appreciate what surrounded her.
A strong sadness was building in her chest as she slid the ceramic Santa Claus into his box to pack him away with the other Christmas decorations. She thought about the many years she questioned if Santa was real. There were so many nights when she’d squeeze her eyes shut and whisper out loud, her knees on the floor as she put her elbows into the mattress. There was so much hope in her. She believed that if she wished and prayed and dreamed enough, Santa would leave a present or two on the coffee table next to her dad’s stained coffee mug. There wasn’t a tree most of the years of her childhood, but her dad give gift her things (there was no magical Santa though). There were no twinkling lights outside of her window, hanging down from the roof with a clumsy droop. There were no ornaments to place on the branches of a fake tree, lined with a dusty skirt that would be covered with presents. There were no fresh baked cookies and steaming hot chocolate topped with marshmallows. The television never displayed joyful Christmas movies and specials. The radio on the kitchen counter never once sang a tune of a wintery song about snow and ice. No, none of that. It was just her dad, her brother, and herself for a while.
“Did you keep the box for this guy?” Emma’s curious voice snapped her from her trance.
She cleared her throat and looked up from her spot on the living room rug. Her ‘new’ roommate was holding a ceramic snowman who’s decorated style matched the Santa she just put away. She reached into the plastic storage container and grabbed the box, passing it up to Emma.
“Here you go.”
“Thanks, Ivy.” She smiled back, noticing that there was a glimmer of disappoint on her face, but she didn’t mention it to her. “You didn’t have to put everything away so fast. I would’ve been fine with it for a few more weeks.”
Emma had just moved in before Christmas. Her things were half way unpacked throughout the small house they now shared.
“I didn’t want it to crowd you. Besides, Christmas is over.” Ivy’s tone was partially rough as she began to pack away the miniature houses placed across the console table that the television hung above.
“I’m so excited to actually be here, like, full time. Niall’s a bit upset.. but I told him he’d survive.” She said with a laugh as she started to collect the small figurines that went with the village.
“I’m excited, too. I’m glad you’re actually up for decorating the space and not just.. letting me do it all. My last roommate was not particularly outgoing.” Ivy snickered at the thought, knowing she wouldn’t be missing that person at all. The girl was nice and all, but she was quite boring.
“Oh, totally! I’ve already got some stuff I want to show you in my room. Maybe we could put it out here or something.”
“I’m fine with anything as long as it’s cute.” She shot her friend a grin.
Emma wasn’t a new friend by any means. They met early on while they were both at university. Emma was actually her first partner for a project in one of their biology classes. They met on the third day of class and became friends very quickly. Their chemistry went far beyond the confines of the science lab. Emma was joyful and adventurous and offered Ivy that motivating spark to actually go out and have fun. Not that Ivy couldn’t match Emma’s energy once her veins were filled with alcohol, she just didn’t go out as much.
“Speaking of Niall, I haven’t seen him a while. How’s he doing?”
A proud smile crept to Emma’s lips. “He’s been good. But he’s been super busy with the store.. almost never get to spend time during the actual day with him.”
“But it’s going well, the store, I mean? Like he’s having success?”
Emma nodded. “It’s been great. I told him it would do good around here, especially with the college students. And besides, people are always looking for music lessons. I’m glad he took my advice and decided to offer those through the business.”
Niall was an excellent musician, or so Ivy has been told. She hadn’t actually seen him play anything in person, only through recordings and videos Emma had shown her. She knew Niall was talented, though. He played the guitar and the bass, both of which seemed entirely too complicated in Ivy’s mind. When they started dating last year, Niall was in the midst of finalizing a business plan and opening his music store. Emma told her all about it, including her fears and anxiety about the situation - but only because she was afraid Niall would get so caught up in the store that he would abandon their relationship. Niall ended up not doing that, obviously, and was able to balance everything in his life. He and Emma would be celebrating their one year anniversary on Valentine’s Day - which Ivy thought was particularly sweet and romantic.
“I’m glad everything’s working out.”
The store opened back in the summer, and Ivy had only gone by once to see the place. It was in a part of town she didn’t frequent very often, so the opportunity to casually stroll in was rare. It wasn’t like it was Emma’s store. While she did know Niall well enough to refer to him as a friend, she wasn’t close with him. She was supportive, of course, but not overly involved.
“He’s coming by later to help me put together the dresser. Well.. he’s going to do it for me, not help me.” She snickered as she joined Ivy on the floor to start gently laying the mini figurines in a small cardboard box they knew as home.
“I can make dinner if you’d like. Niall likes that pasta I make, right?”
“Yeah! He actually asked me about that a few weeks ago. He said I have to get your recipe.” She grinned back, rolling her eyes at the thought of her boyfriend’s obsession with food.
“He’s only had it like twice.. but it’s flattering to know I’m such a good chef.” Ivy laughed under her breath. “I’ll give you the recipe.”
The rest of the afternoon was spent on putting away the last of the decorations and moving them into the hallway closet. The box fit perfectly in the bottom of the closet. Emma disappeared into her room to continue unboxing her belongings. Ivy was mostly occupied with dusting the wood furniture and wiping down the kitchen. She liked a neat, tidy home and she was very glad to know that Emma did as well. She checked the cabinets to make sure she had the ingredients required for the pasta she’ll be making later on.
Every now and then, she’d hear a crash of something hitting the floor come from the hallway, presumably from Emma’s room. She would just giggle to herself as Emma’s dramatic cries of curses and sighs would fill the small home. Despite being friends for a handful of years, they had never lived in the same space before. Even while at university when it was mandatory for them to live on campus, they lived in different dorm buildings. Emma was in a sorority and definitely more comfortable with herself than Ivy was. She kept to her small dorm with her roommate, whom she didn’t have anything in common with but she was kind to her. If she were being honest, she thought Emma would try to move in with Niall once her old lease had expired. But, Niall was comfortable where he was in his apartment and he already had a roommate. As much as Emma wanted to live with him, it was just too soon anyway. They tossed around the idea, but Ivy mentioned to her that perhaps she needed to wait, just in case. Niall wasn’t upset with Emma’s decision to move elsewhere, as long as she was in the city close to him. Ivy was also informed that Niall’s roommate wasn’t too keen on letting someone else share their space. She had never met him before, didn’t even know his name, but she couldn’t blame them. She wouldn’t want her house to be permanently crowded either. Niall let Emma stay over there a lot, though, but spending the night for the weekend or on a random weekday when it was too late to drive back home was different than staying full time. And of course, Niall was allowed over whenever he wanted and she made that clear to Emma before she signed the lease. As long as he respected their home and didn’t leave a mess behind, he was welcomed.
A gentle sigh slipped past her thick lips as she trailed back to the living room. The open concept of the front of the home meant the living room was attached to the kitchen with no barrier other than the island. She sat down on the end of the couch, the damp kitchen towel she used to wipe down the furniture sat on the side table. She picked it up, along with the framed photo that was next to the pretty gold lamp. The gold of the frame didn’t quite match the lamp, but it was still beautiful to her. The ornate metal that decorated the frame was cold as she carefully rubbed the pads of her fingers over it. She stared at the photograph locked behind the glass, the speed of her heart beating increased only slightly.
The image was of her and her mother when she was around three years old. It was Halloween, she was dressed in a pink dress that was modeled after Princess Aurora, and her hair was curled and a little makeup playfully swept over her features. Her mother was dressed in a Cinderella themed costume, her matching golden blonde hair curled, too, and pinned up. It wasn’t the last holiday they spent together, but it was one of the only ones Ivy remembered. She doubted herself at times about the memory - she was only three and a half, did she actually remember it or was she imagining it? Despite always doubting herself, she knew too well that the memory was burned into her brain. She can remember the smell of the burning iron as her mom curled her hair. She remembers getting tickled by the fluffy makeup brush as a bit was applied to her face just to add to the illusion. She remembers the taste of the mini chocolate bar her mom unwrapped for her in the car in between neighborhoods - the night was full of trick or treating and giggles and squeals. She even remembered the way her mom’s hand carefully adjusted her curls when they got caught in the zip of Ivy’s costume. It was a memory she held dear to her heart, one she prayed she’d never lose. Ivy had always tried her hardest to find things to fill in the void of not having her mother around. But no matter how determined she was, nothing ever seemed to be enough. She found joy in little things, like collecting whatnots and trinkets that reminded her of the ones that littered her house when her mom was alive. She enjoyed searching for squirrels and birds in the park, collecting odd looking rocks during her walks, listening to her favorite songs on repeat, and a plethora of other things. But nothing could really fill the space in her heart.. It was quite a big space, after all.
That evening, after the sun nestled below the horizon and stars littered the dark winter sky, Emma invited Niall over for dinner. It was third day of actually staying here, since she opted to spend two weeks with Niall for Christmas between her parent’s place and his. Ivy was working on preparing the ingridents for the pasta when Niall knocked and was let in with a grinning Emma planting a kiss to his mouth. He laughed and brushed her off, not a big fan of showing affection in front of other people, even though he knew Ivy wasn’t watching.
“Hey, long time no see!” Niall said with a smile as he followed Emma into the kitchen.
Ivy’s eyes glanced over her shoulder. “Hi, Niall. It’s been a while, yeah?”
“I think you guys haven’t seen each other since the day we moved my crap in.” Emma said with a slight unsure tone.
“Your crap that still isn’t unpacked.” Niall sighed as he leaned against the counter, his arms crossing on his chest.
Ivy chuckled to herself as Emma began to give him excuses for why her things weren’t put away and in their new spots yet. The list included things like being busy with work, having errands to run, and of course ‘spending all my time with you’ that made Niall smack his lips and give her a sarcastic ‘okay, sure’.
They kept up their banter for a bit while (Y/n) rinsed her hands at the sink. She had finished everything she needed to do before actually cooking the food. When she turned towards them, Niall was peering his eyes into the pot of boiling water, frowning as he saw it was empty.
“She’s making the pasta you said you like.” Emma said as she grabbed his forearm to tug him away from the oven.
“Oh, really? That stuff was so good.” Niall’s eyes shot to Ivy’s. “I want a whole pot of it for my birthday, please and thanks.”
She shook her head in disbelief as a laugh rolled out of her mouth. “Isn’t your birthday in September?”
He shrugged. “Yeah, just don’t want ya to forget.”
“C’mon, let's start with the dresser, Niall. Let Ivy cook.” Emma said after checking the time on her phone. “We’ll clean up the kitchen after dinner, okay? Don’t worry about it!”
“Alright, that’s fine. I’ll let you know when it's done.”
And just like that, she was alone in the kitchen again. It didn’t bother her to be alone, she had been for most of her life, especially her late teenage and adult years. Finding something to occupy her bored mind was not a new task for her to learn. She opted for sitting at the small dining table after setting the timer on the oven in case she forgot to check the time.
Ivy pulled her phone from the pocket of her sweatpants and started to maneuver through the notifications that had come through since she last checked. One was a message from a random company that was offering a sale this coming weekend, there were two texts from Niall - the first asking if he needed to bring anything, the second saying Emma told him not to and to just ignore the text - the rest were random notifications from different apps.
Her attention went to her photo app as she scrolled to a few days ago, just a day or so after the New Year began. She went for a walk in the park close by one day during lunch when she had nothing else to do. She snapped a few photos of little random things, like a wild flower that had somehow managed to survive the low temperature, a bird that was perched on top of the black metal fence that lined the park, and a snapshot of the sky with the clouds parting in such a way that made it look like heaven. After having lost so much in life, she learned and forced herself to appreciate the little things that were around. Details of daily life, like the fall of a leaf to the ground or the chirp of a bird in a tree, were almost therapeutic for her.
Dinner didn’t take too long to cook, but the dresser was seeming to take much longer than Emma had expected it to. When Ivy knocked on the bedroom door and stuck her head in, she grinned as she saw Niall sitting on the floor with his head thrown back and Emma pacing the room with her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. Her once neatly fixed dark hair was messily tied in a bun on the back of her head. The instruction booklet for the dresser was laid out in between Niall’s legs, along with a torn bag of hardwear.
“Food’s ready.” She said with a singsong voice that made Niall pop his head up.
“Finally.” He quickly rose to his feet and grabbed Emma’s wrist, tugging her behind him as they followed Ivy down the hall and towards the kitchen.
“Eat as much as you want, I made plenty.” She said as she let them make a bowl first.
“Don’t have to tell him twice.” Emma’s mouth shaped to a smile as Niall practically pushed her aside to be first.
“Guests eat first, right?” He joked as he gave them both a quick glance, a smirk on his face as he grabbed the serving utensil.
Once the three of them had fixed what they wanted and claimed a spot at the table, Ivy offered to grab everyone something to drink. Emma and herself chose a glass of ice water while Niall requested a Coke. Emma had just brought home a box this morning after her quick run to the grocery store. The food appeared to be a big hit as Niall scarfed it down, spitting out compliments and satisfied hums that made the girls giggle and roll their eyes jokingly at him.
“Em told me the store is doing great.”
Niall nodded as he sipped his drink. “Yeah, it’s been good, actually. I’m glad.”
“I’m glad you do the lessons. I told her that people are coming in pretty much all day long.” Emma said.
“Yeah, if it’s not someone who’s into music already or just curiously out shopping.. The sign about the lessons really brings people in. And even if they don’t go through with it, they end up looking around and finding something.” Niall told them with a pleased smile, he was relieved his business was staying crowded and people actually enjoyed coming to the store.
“Did you end up finding someone to teach the guitar lessons? I know Emma said something about you were looking for someone else, since you got so busy with your bookings.”
“Yeah, my roommate actually. He’s decent at guitar and he’s just working with the beginners. I’m sticking to the people who sorta know how to play around that just wanna get better.”
Ivy nodded as she took another bite. “That’s good.”
The cooking had made the kitchen a bit warmer than it was before, so she pushed her sleeves up to her elbows. The exposure of the small tattoo on the inside of Ivy’s elbow caught Emma’s eye.
“Oh!” She chirped suddenly, making Niall flinch. “I forgot to tell you, Ivy, I’m getting a tattoo in a few weeks. Already got my appointment.”
“Oh, really? Where at this time?” Ivy asked with genuine curiosity.
“On my foot. Just a cute little flower. Niall says it's going to hurt.”
Ivy squinted her eyes and pursed her lips. “You don’t have any, do you?”
Niall chuckled. “No, but I’ve been told the foot is terrible.”
“I’m not a baby, Niall. It’s not my first one. Besides, Zayn said it would be fine since I’m used to the feeling.”
“Zayn is lying to you to spare your feelings and get your money. He is my friend, I think I'd know when he lies.” Niall was only teasing her, but it brought a flush to Emma’s cheeks.
“Shut up.” She mumbled through a pout.
Ivy was amused by their interaction, but she chose to move on with the conversation so Emma wouldn’t get too sensitive. She wasn’t over emotional or anything, but sometimes she would get embarrassed if Niall playfully taunted her in front of other people.
“Zayn.. is that the guy I met that time at the bar?” Ivy couldn’t remember the person’s name, but she was sort of sure that it was the same person they’re referring to.
Niall nodded to her. “Yeah. The one with all the tattoos.. I would say the one with the black hair but right now it’s platinum blonde.” The lift of Niall’s brows made her think that maybe he didn’t approve of the look, but he had no choice but to accept it.
“I thought that was the same guy. I’m pretty sure he told me he owned a shop.”
“He’s the best around.” Emma said with a laugh. “Plus.. he gives me a discount.”
“You’re welcome for that.” Niall puckered his lips and leaned her direction, demanding a kiss that he knew he wouldn’t get.
“Hush.” She pushed her fingers to his mouth and gently shoved his head back.
He laughed at her reaction. “Just saying, Em. He’s my friend.. like I said before.”
Emma ignored him and turned her eyes to Ivy. “Anyway, Niall can’t come with me.. so I was going to see if you wanted to go.”
“I can see if I can.. just let me know the date and time.”
“Alright. I will. Niall, don’t be a pig.” She groaned as she saw he had slipped from the table and was at the stove, piling his bowl full again.
“Let him eat it. That way we won’t have to worry about leftovers.”
Emma shook her head. “He’d eat the actual house if you’d let him.”
—•—
Ivy was puckering her lips in the mirror of the car visor as she applied her lip balm. It was chilly outside and the weather wasn’t being kind to her skin at all. She huffed as she saw the patch of dry skin right in the middle of her forehead. She had just applied her moisturizer before they loaded in the car to drive to the tattoo shop. Emma was driving, and every now and then she’d glance Ivy’s way and notice she was still staring in the mirror.
“What’s the matter?” She finally asked as Ivy slid the cover over the mirror and flipped the visor up, her back hitting the seat as she felt defeated.
“My skin is horrible right now.” She rolled her eyes to herself, upset that it was bothering her this much. It was just a bit of dry skin and chapped lips, she shouldn’t be so affected by it.. but she was. “Even my lips are dying.”
Emma smiled. “I’m sure lots of people are struggling right now. I’ve got a dry spot on my cheek. It’s been there for a few days. Just the weather.”
“But it's annoying. Y’know my hormones are whacky sometimes.. feel like as soon as I get it under control, I break out or have something like this happen.”
“When we get home, we can look up some different products. Maybe we can find something better for seasonal dryness. My cream isn’t working either.”
Ivy shrugged and took out her phone to mindlessly look through one of her social media apps. “Yeah, we can do that.”
Even though the shop wasn’t too far from where they lived, Emma didn’t want to walk in the cold and she didn’t want to have to cover the tattoo with thick, tight shoes afterwards. So, Ivy agreed to drive back after they left, and after they grabbed some food. The shop was right around the corner, and it caught Ivy’s attention as they turned onto the street. It was just off the main road of the downtown area. The street was lined with different restaurants, stores, thrifting spots, boutiques, and a few law firm offices and an emergency clinic that stayed open during the weekend. She was familiar with the area, and had actually looked towards the tattoo shop’s sign plenty of times. They pulled into a spot and Emma took in a deep breath before pulling the keys out.
“Are you nervous?” Ivy said with an amused grin plastered over her lips as she opened the car door.
“What if Niall’s right? What if it hurts real bad?”
“You’ll be fine. You got one on your ribs and your spine. You can take it.”
Emma was still nervous as she followed Ivy to the door. She grabbed the handle and pulled the door open, allowing Emma to slip into the building first. It was warm in the small lobby of the tattoo shop. She was unfamiliar with the specific shop, but not the reality of one. It looked like the others she had been to and the place she got her tattoos done at. The walls were dark grey and decorated with interesting pieces of artwork and posters. There were rock band posters, most of which she recognized, on the wall behind the dark wood desk that acted as a check in counter. Nobody was at the counter, though. There was a small sleek, black leather couch pressed against the side wall, above it hung a large canvas with what appeared to be an original artwork painted on to it. She saw the signature in the lower left corner and smiled as she read over the name she had heard Niall use a few weeks ago during dinner. So this Zayn character was more than just a tattoo artist? She was intrigued by the brush work on the canvas, the beauty of the image was breathtaking. The muted colors stood out oddly bold against the stark white and midnight black areas. It was nothing like she had ever seen before. Although she didn’t partake in any form of art herself, she was an admirer. She enjoyed frequenting art galleries and museums and contributing to artists as much as she could. She once got a commissioned painting of a bouquet of flowers from an older woman in the area who was a somewhat known artist. The piece lives on the wall near the hall closet.
“Zayn?” Emma called out suddenly as she grew impatient with standing in the middle of the lobby.
Ivy sighed to herself as Emma disappeared through a door. It lead to the main tattoo room, with three different stations placed in it. The back room was Zayn’s private room that his clients were able to be secluded in. Emma knocked on that closed door and waited patiently. A few moments later, Zayn opened the door with a smile, happy to see her.
“Hi, Em.” He said, his accent thick as it rang through the small building.
Ivy heard them chatting, so she decided to peek through the door, a nervous smile on her face. Zayn’s eyes caught hers as he towered over Emma. He offered a friendly wave and gestured for her to join them. She nervously stepped over the threshold and swallowed gently.
“Zayn, do you remember Ivy? You guys met a while back.” Emma said with a gesture of her hand as Ivy approached them.
Immediately, she recognized his features - from his dark eyes to his nearly fully inked arms. His tattooed sleeves wrapped over his shoulders, around his neck, crept over each wrist and wiggled around his fingers. He was covered, to say the least. She could only presume the rest of him looked like that. Colorful tattoos mixed with jet black ones littered his skin. And she noticed, of course, that his hair was blond now like Niall had mentioned.
“I think so, yeah. You’re the chick Niall said could outdrink me, right?” Zayn asked with a laugh.
“I don’t drink that much.. but yeah, that’s me.”
Emma gave her a nudge of her elbow. “She can out drink anyone when she actually lets loose.”
Her eyes rolled as a smile toyed on her lips, still slick from the lip balm. “Yeah yeah.”
“Let me get my chair cleaned off and you ladies can come back here.” Zayn said just as he grabbed the knob to his private room.
They heard something hit the floor and then a shuffle of shoes moving against the tile. Emma furrowed her brows and gave Zayn a curious look.
“Someone in there?”
“Yeah, I just finished a piece.”
He opened the door and went inside, shutting it behind him again. Ivy turned towards Emma and gave her a smile, unsure of what to do next. Emma grabbed her hand and nodded towards the open lobby door.
“We can wait in here.”
They returned to the lobby, where Ivy was easily distracted by the art on the walls again. There was a print of a skull near the door. It had flowers pouring over the crown of it, which then melted to puddles as they hit the imaginary ground. She thought it was interesting and quite cool. From what she could tell about Zayn’s vibe, it fit it well. The music playing from the speakers in the ceiling was loud enough to be heard but not too invasive. She could tell it was a curated playlist going, because the song that just begun seemed to be sung by the same person as the one before.
“Zayn just texted me.. he said we can come back.”
“I thought someone was-“ Ivy stopped speaking the second a body appeared in the doorway. “Oh.”
“Hey, Harry.” Emma said with a friendly tone as she stood up, motioning for Ivy to follow her.
“Hey, Emma.” The stranger replied with a quick lift of one corner of his mouth.
Ivy was slightly confused because it obviously appeared that the two knew each other. She had never heard Emma refer to anyone by the name of Harry, at least not that she could recall. She licked her lips and let her eyes fall down his tall, broad frame.
“What did you get?” Emma asked with her usual curious voice.
Ivy was listening, but she wasn’t paying that much attention. She couldn’t help but be taken aback by the appearance of the person in front of them. He was tall, much taller than Niall but probably close to Zayn’s height. He looked like a sky scraper standing in front of Emma and herself, both of which were shorter than average. His long, dark hair shaped into curls that were messily laying on his shoulders. He suddenly swept his hand through his roots the second she realized he had such long hair. The motion caused the lights above them to ricochet off the rings covering his fingers.
“This.” He said as he extended his right arm to them, well mainly to Emma.
There was a freshly inked snake curling around his forearm, each scale placed perfectly on his tanned skin. There were remenents of blood speckled across his skin, and a deep redness that hazed over the entire tattoo.
“Wow! That’s so good.” Emma beamed at the delicate work.
“Yeah, took two sessions. Zayn got a bit tired last time.” He smirked gently at the girl he knew, completely ignoring the one he didn’t.
“Well, it was cool seeing you! Are you headed home?”
He shook his head. “Gonna sit here for a while. I’ve got to be at the store in an hour to help Niall.”
She checked the time. “Yeah, he said he was the only one closing tonight.”
“Emma?” Zayn called from the back room, his head looking around the doorframe searching for her.
“Coming!” She hollered back, taking one last look at Harry’s freshly inked arm. “It was good seeing you. If you leave before I get out of here, I’ll see you later.”
Ivy didn’t even realize she was tracing her eyes over his body. His arms were like tree trunks, muscles taut under his skin and veins popping out, rolling around as he moved. His legs were tightly wrapped in a pair of dark jeans, she could tell through the fabric that they were toned as well. It wasn’t until he suddenly walked past her, not even sparing her a glance, that she realized she had been standing frozen.
Emma started towards the back room, Ivy in tow as she felt an embarrassed blush cover her cheeks. She didn’t know this Harry guy, but she hoped she wasn’t staring too hard at him. It definitely wasnt polite to just stare at a stranger, especially when she was blanking out. What if she was making a face at him? Something nasty, or something rude looking? She was unsure, but chose to ignore it. He didn’t seem bothered by anything as he took a spot on the couch.
Zayn’s office was just as she expected it to be. It was a deep shade of green, the walls coated in framed prints and a few smaller canvases of what she figured was his work. There was a small accent chair placed in the corner for guests. She sat down and started darting her eyes around the room. The type of work that Zayn had pinned to a board on the back wall caught her eye. He seemed to be good at everything, but most of it was bold color work or extremely detailed realism, sort of like the snake she saw on Harry’s arm moments ago. She wondered if Zayn had given himself any of his own tattoos or if he went to someone else. Surely, not every place on his body was accessible by his own hands, but maybe some of them were done by him. She felt like an amateur compared to him. She had a few tattoos placed on her body, but nothing quite as big or detailed as what she saw on the board or on Zayn’s skin.
“Ivy is your new house mate, right?” Zayn asked Emma as she got comfortable on the chair.
“Yeah. I moved in before Christmas.”
“But.. you’ve known each other for a while, right? I can’t exactly remember.”
Emma nodded. “Yeah, since we were in college together.”
“Zayn.. do you mind if I look through this?” Ivy asked politely as she picked up the small binder off the console table next to the chair. A few figurines of characters she recognized, an hour glass with black sand, and a plant lived on the table as well.
“Of course not, that’s why it’s there.” He gave her a chuckle, but kept his response nice.
She opened the book and started to slowly flick through the pages. She saw his signature on the bottom of the designs. They were all so perfect. Some were executed with such detail and precision that she could've sworn they were fake, others were more loose drawn in a free handed style or just more whimsical in nature. She saw a sketch of a few bees on one of the pages. They were in black and grey, mostly realistic with subtle, soft shading and delicate lines. The drawing was pretty and neat. She glanced to the corner, searching for his signature, but she didn’t find it. Instead, in the corner opposite of where Zayn favored to sign his name was a small H. She hummed to herself, curious to know why Zayn had someone else’s drawing in his book. She quickly shook the thought out and reminded herself that there three other stations in the front. They were not abandoned by any means, she could tell people worked at them based on the different things displayed and the personal trinkets and objects adnoring the areas. Maybe this was one of his college’s work or maybe it was random.
For the most part, the book was filled with things Zayn did. Some of them were his own creations while others were common tattoo designs just drawn by his own hand instead of being pulled from the internet. She liked the way he had a bunch of his own things offered in styles that were more popular. He appeared to be a well versed artist with the talent to create just about anything.
As Zayn prepped Emma’s skin for her tattoo, he was talking to her about Niall’s store. He asked how it was going and if she had heard any horror stories yet of Niall messing up payroll or forgetting to stock an item. She only laughed and said she was surprised he was staying so calm and organized. Everything about the store was going more than according to plan, as at least as much as Ivy could tell from what she’s heard. She was still so happy for Niall. His hobby had turned into a passion and a business and he was able to share it with others, it was like a dream come true she bet.
“Alright, are y’ready?” Zayn said with a deep breath of his own as Emma grew more and more nervous in the chair.
“I think so.”
“You’ll do fine, Em.” Ivy encouraged from the corner, her eyes now focused on her friend.
“Just take some deep breaths. Tell me if it’s too much.” Zayn told her as he pulled the stencil paper off her foot. The flower wasn’t that big, but there were lots of tiny details that Zayn knew would probably hurt her more than anything else she’s gotten. “Just a tattoo.”
“If I cry, you can’t tell Niall. I told him I could handle this.” Emma mumbled out with a frown as she stared at her foot.
Zayn smiled and leaned back, the gun still buzzing in his hand. “Before I start, is it in the spot you want?”
“What do you think? Is it good?” She asked him, twisting her foot to a different pose.
“It’s not my foot, love.”
She groaned and looked over towards Ivy. “Can you check?”
Ivy laughed a little but nodded as she stood up. Just as she was about to step towards them, Emma called for someone else to take a peek at the design.
“Harry? Are you still in there?” Her voice echoed through the room, she hoped that it spilled into the lobby so he could hear her. After a few seconds, she grunted and pulled her phone out to shoot him a text. “I’m so nervous.”
“It looks fine to me.. but it’s your decision.” Zayn told her with a gentle sigh.
Ivy looked down at the placement of the tattoo, her arms behind her back with her hands locked. “Yeah, it’s cute.”
She gave Emma a hopeful smile before turning around. The door opened just as she moved her body, the stranger that wasn’t a stranger to anyone but her, walked in the room, chuckling as he saw Emma fanning her face, the heat swelling her skin with sweat and her eyes with tears - she was nervous.
“You always do this.” Zayn couldn’t resist laughing as Harry walked to them.
Ivy was back in her seat now, her eyes fixed on her phone as she waited for Emma to decide her fate. She could hear snickers coming from Zayn and Harry as they talked about the tattoo and Emma’s apparent hesitation that always came out when she was in Zayn’s chair.
“It’s fine, Emma.” Harry said, giving her a smile before looking to Zayn. “Make sure it hurts.”
“Harry, shut up!” Emma groaned and tried to kick at him. He laughed and took a step back. “You guys are bullies.”
“You’ll be alright, Em. It’s not like it's your first.” Zayn reminded her.
She shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. “Whatever. Go ahead, then. Thanks, Harry.”
“Welcome.” He said lightly before disappearing out of the door again.
Ivy wondered why he didn’t stay in the room with them. Was he not interesting in hearing the painful grunts Emma would sure be letting out soon or watching Zayn draw his design perfected for Emma into her skin? Maybe he was tired of being near the tattoo gun since he spent however long getting his own. She pushed the thought aside entirely the moment she heard Emma groan, curses falling form her lips but not directly towards anyone.
Zayn leaned over her foot, his fingers pulling her skin tight as he worked the needle into it. It didn’t look like it was much fun, and Ivy became grateful that she had no intention of ever inking anything onto her foot.
—•—
There was a freshness in the air as she looked around Niall’s music store. It smelt like freshly picked lemons, probably because he had just sprayed down the counter before she came in following behind Emma. Niall was in one of his usual band tees and a pair of jeans as he sat on a stool with a guitar resting on his thigh. He was talking with a customer, comparing the similarities of two different guitar brands. Emma found herself busy with the items on the checkout counter - dropping loose pens back into their cup and adjusting the pile of papers Niall had pushed to the side.
Ivy stayed curious as she looked around the store. It was very easy to get caught up in the different items, especially since she had little to no idea what some of the accessories were for. Niall provided more than just items for guitars. She didn’t try to decipher every thing on the shelves, just simply moved her eyes across the packages, curiosity settling in her instead of blurting out questions to Niall. The girls came by to bring him some lunch before they did some grocery shopping for the week. Niall was appreciative, but he was unable to entertainment right away.
Emma smiled as the customer approached the counter, the one Niall had been chatting with. She stepped aside and let Niall take over the register. He had another employee here, but he was in the back room looking for a specific thing they needed to restock on one of the shelves. Ivy waited near by as Niall scanned the guitar music book the customer wanted to get and told him that he’d see him when he returned for the guitar - the customer hadn’t made his decision just yet.
When it was just the three of them at the counter, a few customers were lingering around the store just browsing, Niall gave them both a warm smile before wrapping his arms around Emma for a quick hug.
“Thanks for lunch. I’ll eat it when Josh gets off his break.” He said with a sigh, folding his arms and leaning them on the counter.
“The store is so nice, Niall.” Ivy complimented as she glanced around.
“Thanks.”
Emma walked from behind the counter to where Ivy was standing. She was about to ask her something about their plans for the day when her eyes fell on the few pieces of paper taped to the front edge of the counter. One was the refund policy, one was about the instrument lessons, and the other was new since the last time she was here.
“Oh, a flyer? That’s unusual.” Emma suddenly said as she pressed her finger against the pink dyed paper. “For the show?”
“The show?’’ Ivy asked with a drop of her brows as she read over the words printed in bold black letters.
“Yeah, Niall’s band. They play at a bar across town every couple of weeks.” Emma told her.
Ivy remembered as soon as she heard it. Emma had told her before, long ago when she first started dating Niall, that he was in a cover band. It wasn’t anything serious, not trying to search for record deals or gain stardom, it was just him and his friends having a good time. They got decent money for it, including tips from audiences, and it allowed them to play the instruments each member enjoyed. She wasn’t sure who was in the band as Emma never got to that detail before.
“Oh, right.” She nodded as the memory returned to her brain. “That’s cool.”
“Can’t believe Emma’s never brought you to a show.” Niall said with a somewhat surprised expression.
“I invited her a few times but she’s usually busy with work stuff.” Emma defended herself, even though there was no issue with it.
Ivy smiled at her and shrugged. “I remember you asking a couple times.”
“Well, you’re more than welcome to attend if you’d like.” Niall offered as he pushed himself off the counter the moment the bell jingled above the entrance door.
He went to greet the customer, someone he actually was used to seeing come in the store, leaving the girls alone again.
“Yeah, it would be fun if you came! You could finally meet Alyssa. She’s usually just home with her and Zayn’s kid.. she doesn’t go out much anymore, but she loves the shows.” Emma exclaimed with a sparkle in her eye.
“I dunno.. when is it?” She asked, glancing at the flyer.
“Next Saturday night. It would be cool, Ivy! We haven’t went out since Halloween.”
The stress building up at work during the holidays definitely set her back from enjoying a lot of things, including several invitations from Emma to join her and Niall at a bar or go out for dinner with just the two of them. It truly felt like forever since she got to have fun with her friend. She thought about it for a moment, but only lifted her shoulder at the idea. The mention of meeting Zayn’s fiancé was intriguing since she had heard so much about her from Emma, but she doubted that would be enough to pull her out for the night.
“Maybe.. depends on how the week goes.”
Emma gave her a partial smile. “Okay. I really hope you can go with me.”
“Yeah, you should definitely come, Ivy.” Niall said as he appeared next to them, the customer gone to look for the item they asked him about.
Once again, she let out a small sigh and faked a smile for them. “I said I’ll see how the week goes, but no promises.”
He gave her a fake, dramatic frown. “C’mon! Live a little!”
“I live a lot.. at work.”
Emma grabbed her elbow and gave it a squeeze. “I’ll convince you before the week ends.”
“M’sure you will, Em.”
After spending a few more minutes talking to Niall, and then waiting in the car as he and Emma disappeared into his office to say a private goodbye, Ivy was ready to get the grocery shopping over with. The store they frequented was near by, so the drive was short and easy. It wasn’t close to their shared house, but the prices were better than anywhere else. Emma offered to take her car, so that left Ivy in the passenger seat with her eyes glued to whatever passed by the window.
“Are you okay, Ivy?” Emma asked as they strolled through the fruit section in search for the items on their list.
She gulped gently, distracting herself by collecting a few apples for the cart. “M’fine, just tired.”
Emma watched as she walked towards the basket of lemons and grabbed two, she’d need them for a receipe she was going to try later in the week. Ivy was normally not this quiet. She enjoyed the task of grabbing their groceries and checking things off their combined list while Emma pushed the cart and double checked everything. Something about doing such a mundane thing made her feel content and comfortable, even if they decided randomly to try a new store they’d never been in. But today was different, Emma was growing concerned with her unusually quiet friend.
“If you’re irritated with me and Niall pushing you about the show.. I’m sorry. You don’t have to go.” Emma said with a soft frown as Ivy returned to the cart with a handful of bananas.
She sat them down and lifted her hesitant gaze to meet her closest friend’s. “I’m fine, Emma. Just tired.”
She shook her head gently. “No, you’re too quiet. What’s wrong?”
“You and Niall didn’t bother me, I swear. The bar thing is.. whatever. I’ll think about it, I promise. It’s just.. one of those days.”
Emma wasn’t believing it all the way. Sure, maybe Ivy was being truthful about the role her and Niall played in her newfound mood, or didn’t play - but something else was up. She licked her lips and decided to stay quiet as Ivy busied herself with grabbing the rest of the fruits before moving onto the fresh vegetables.
Although she didn’t want to press it any further, Emma couldn’t stop thinking about what could’ve happened at the music shop or on the way to the grocery store. Her worry was growing quickly and it wasn’t very long before she was asking another question.
“Ivy, please tell me. Are you alright?”
She received a sigh as a response, a couple of tomatoes and a bag of baby carrots joined the cart. “Emma, please.. I’m fine.”
“Something is wrong with you. I don’t want to see you so down.”
Ivy walked towards the next section of the store, knowing that Emma would follow her with the cart no matter if they were talking or not. She held her breath as she thought about what was bothering her. She was too caught up with her racing mind to realize she was actually expressing her emotions on the outside. Emma noticed everything, so clearly she wasn't doing well at hiding it. There was no real issue, really, nothing that anyone caused by saying or doing anything. A lump slid down her throat, Emma was her friend - there was no need to keep anything from her.
Just as they turned down the aisle where the bread was, she stopped in her tracks and turned towards the cart, her hand reaching out to stop it. Emma froze, a lift of her brows offering confidence like a good friend should.
“The guy that walked through the door right before we left.. at Niall’s store..” She started with a strong voice, but it slowly faded to almost a whisper.
Emma nodded, encouraging her to continue. She looked down to the floor as the moment replayed in her memory. It wasn’t an unusual thing for her to experience, in fact it was more common than not. One little thing, one random glance from a passerby, one glimpse of someone with a similar shade of hair as her own, one note from a list of songs she knew were special..
“He reminded me of my brother. I.. I don’t wanna talk about it.”
Her response made Emma’s stomach turn to knots. She knew that the conversation was over then, and there wasn’t anything else she could try that would break Ivy. The forbidden topic had been brought up, and quickly dropped back to the vault she kept it locked away in. Emma didn’t mention it again..
[a/n: this is a series! It’s a lot longer per part than my other stuff so I hope you enjoy! This is just the intro so it will be more interesting and exciting as it goes on! reblog, like, do all that lovely stuff!!] ** I did change this from y/n to an actual character but feel free to read her name as whatever you’d like
taglist: (notified for all // if you want to join a taglist for this series, lmk in a comment or message and I’ll start one)
summary: lockdown is tough on both you and harry. you miss the feeling of physical touch so much you start chasing to fill that void in one another.
warnings: sweet and dirty smut, unprotected sex, fingering (fem rec), spitting, deep conversation, lil bit emotional, touch starved harry & y/n, lockdown and covid mentions.
a/n: something hot and sweet for y’all ily!! highkey wish I had harry during my lockdown era writing this, my god.
———
You felt entirely numb as you heard the familiar news reporter say the words you had been dreading of hearing. Tahnee was was always on at this time of the day— you didn’t even know her name however many months ago.
Restrictions had been easing just a week or so ago.
Her voice continued to echo through the lounge room as you cupped your face in your hands with a sigh.
“—we understand the effect this news may have on viewers at home. In these unprecedented times we must stick together as much as we can. Look after yourself everyone… we’ll see you next with our sporting updates after the ad break.”
She sounded glum, like she hated being the one to deliver the news to people. In the end, she too has to go home and cope with the numerous amounts of restrictions on her life.
You reached for the remote, turning off the tv and throwing it back into the duvet that now permanently lived on the couch, good for the cold nights and binge watching TV shows because you had nothing better to do.
Other than ignore your upcoming college assignments. Which you’re going to continue to do. And procrastinate finishing them and how much you hate the pressure of online schooling.
You had other shit to dwell on too.
You miss your family. You miss your friends.
You’re sick of living out birthdays and your college life on video calls.
You missed being hugged, and kissed and touched.
You were so grateful to have your best friend of all people stuck with you. But you still craved so many kinds of social interaction.
Now you just wanted to cry.
You stood up, knowing harry wouldn’t know yet. Probably in bed on his phone, and you just needed his company.
You quickly went to escape the silence of the lounge room, padding down the hallway in your sweatpants and a baggy tshirt you know for a fact you stole from your dad.
His door was only half shut, and you gently said his name.
“Harry…?” Your voice wavers.
“Yea, love?” His voice is soft, welcoming as it always is.
You push through the door to see him laying in bed, also in sweatpants and a rolled up long sleeve.
He looks at you and tears immediately start to spill over your waterline without you even realising.
He props himself up, “y/n, what’s wrong?”
You invite yourself over to his bed, and his arms pull you into his chest the moment you’re close enough.
A gesture that is just too much given the circumstances, and although the sweetest, it tips you over the edge.
You feel the tightness in your throat as his hands move to caress your back. Before you know it, your chest is rattled with a sob. You felt so dramatic but you needed to let it out.
He waited no time to wrap you straight into his tightest hug, trailing his hands up to your the back of your neck, stroking the skin there with his thumb.
“Darling.” He whispered, concerned of what had happened, but not wanting to push you to tell him. Just letting you cry.
Eventually it wracked out of you,
“We’re— we’re going back into stage four restrictions.” Your reasoning came out with a shaky voice.
You felt his intake of breath once you’d said it, and it got held in his chest for a few seconds before getting let go all at once.
“Fuck.” He cursed out defeatedly.
You sit in silence, but not once does his grasp on you loosen.
“I just want to see my family outside of a fucking FaceTime.” You whisper.
“I do too…” he closes his eyes, “I wish there was something I could do to make it better, y/n. I’m sorry.”
He grabs your hand, amending what he said before.
“I know this is shit, but we’ll get through it. We get through everything together.” He smiles, it doesn’t quite crinkle the corners of his eyes like it usually does, but it’s an attempt at the least.
“I’m so sick of feeling so alone, Harry. I’m glad i have you here, but it’s so lonely at the same time with just us.” You say quietly, hoping not to offend him.
He nods against your head, which is tucked into his shoulder, letting you vent without interruption.
“We can’t do anything. We can’t see anyone. I havent felt another persons touch outside of yours in weeks.”
He doesn’t get offended, he understands exactly where you’re coming from and you’re so grateful for that.
He just plays with your hair as you talk.
“Same here, baby.”
“I don’t mean it in a rude way, you’re very affectionate given our circumstances, but I just…”
Your sentences falls off short, and you shrug. You missed romantic touch too.
“Y’miss being touched.” He enunciates the word in a more suggestive way.
You nod, “not to sound… gross or anything. But I do miss being touched, and held, and kissed.”
He pulls you in a little closer as you speak, almost without realising he was doing it. Absentmindedly ready to do any thing to make you feel a bit better. A bit more connected.
“It’s not gross. It’s normal.” He frowns, “We have gone months without seeing our own family. I can only guess neither of us have had anything romantic going for us. Nothing wrong with missing that.”
“It seems kind of— i don’t know— weird to miss in comparison to the other things.”
“Y/n, tell me you’re not feeling guilty for missing getting kissed. Or laid.”
“I’m…” you sigh as you realise you can’t even pretend you’re not, and he rolls his eyes lightly.
“Jesus.” He let’s out a breathy laugh.
“It’s not just that, atleast, that I miss.” You shake your head, still feeling a little embarrassed.
“I miss the connection. The feeling of it.”
His facial expressions quickly get more serious as you talk. All of the words coming from your mouth can be interpreted in varying ways, but his mind can’t help but veer towards the more sexual aspect of it. Especially since you didn’t deny you missed getting laid.
“I get it. I miss having the opportunity to want someone.” He nods again, watching your reaction to what he says like a hawk.
You look away, almost shy, “To really want it.”
“Yea…” he glances at your lips without realising he’s doing it, and the feeling you’re both discussing at this very moment is welling in the pit of his stomach.
His hands reach out to wipe away the damp glaze on your cheeks from your tears.
“I’m proud of you.” He sighs.
“What— Why?”
“Because. You may think you’re not, but you’re doing so well.” He looks utterly sincere as he says it.
“Harry…” you shake your head as his name slips past your tongue, and you bury your face further into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent, lips accidentally brushing the base of his neck.
This has him tingling, your soft mouth so close to his pulse point, he wonders if you can feel it racing.
“Y/n.” He squeezes your hip, “If you want me to kiss you, just know all you have to do is say the words.”
He swallows as you still, processing the offer he’s just put on the table.
“But—“
“I miss it too. The really wanting it.” He caresses the soft skin of your waist with the hand that’s now slid underneath your shirt.
You go quiet, suddenly the air so thick with tension you couldn’t breathe.
“If you want anything from me, I’ll give it to you.” He whispers, so softly. Like he wants you to hear him, but also not at the same time.
You’re not sure how to even react.
You’re horny. Emotional. And frankly a little bit too infatuated with his lips to breach into the territory of being able to touch them with your own.
“Harry.” You repeat, sounding unsure.
“Baby, if you wanted it, I would do it.”
He scratches his fingers down your spine, noting the absence of a bra strap.
You shudder at the sensation. Realising no one has made you feel like this in so long.
“Very sudden.” You blurt, trying not to push forward with you hips whatsoever, despite the ache that’s quickly conjured between your legs.
You fear that if you feel him, all sense of rationality will be gone.
“I know.” He says, lips dragging down your temple.
“M’beginning to realise, y/n, that i would do just about anything to keep you happy.”
Your heart pangs and you indulge a little, hands coming up to weave through his hair and pull on it gently.
And he groans, sounding so pretty.
“You deserve this too.” You carefully say. You’re not even sure where the line is between the two of you. But you continue talking anyway,
“Always so sweet… so giving. Who would I be to not make you feel loved on too.”
“Christ.” He whispers as you tug on his brown curls again, which slide against your fingers like silk.
“How far is this gonna go, H.” You ask, needing clarification before you go insane.
“Far as you want it.”
“I need specifications.” Your hands come to his cheeks, “I don’t want to be making any assumptions here.”
“Angel, If you asked me for my mouth on your pussy, I would give it. Want my cock? It’s yours. Use me, touch me, anything you want you already have.”
You feel yourself melt at the words.
You cave, leaning forward and capture his perfect lips, feeling their shape slot against yours like an art piece.
His lips feel heavenly, and you nearly black out at the sensation that overtakes your body.
“Fuck, that feels so good love.” Harry says against your mouth, his tongue jutting out to swipe over your bottom lip.
You hum in the back of your throat, and he tugs your hips so you’re properly seated into his lap.
You can’t miss his erection underneath your core. His clothed length is pressing into you and a moan slips out of you before you can even stop it.
“Need it. Please.” You start to beg, no matter how desperate it comes across.
His hand comes to your waistband, “you’re sure you want me to touch you?”
“Yes, yes.”
It dips underneath the fabric, finding you without underwear and almost dripping you were that wet.
The thing is, going so long with just your hand and a vibrator, the second any kind of prospect of getting dicked down is there— you’re immediately slick with arousal.
“Jesus fuck, y/n.” He drags his middle finger through your cunt, feeling the wetness along his finger tip. “You’re soaked.”
“Harry— oh my god—“ he slid it back down, teasing your entrance with his fingertip.
“Been that long huh. Just the thought of it works you up this much?” He chuckles.
Your hands fly to the collar of his shirt, tugging at the soft material, gripping it in your fists.
You hum in agreement. “More, please.”
“Mm, so glad you’re letting me do this.”
He pushes in further, and just his one long finger is touching places that has you clenching around him.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Praise is spilling from your lips as he curls his digit in you.
You slouch into his strong frame, hand slipping down between the two of you, palming over his erection.
He peppers your neck in open mouthed kisses, moaning at the feeling of you squeezing his clothed cock.
“Can I— fuck— get you out.” You ask, reaching to dip under his sweatpants.
“Yes. Don’t even have t’ask, pretty.”
You flush, hand moving underneath his waistband, finding him also without underwear.
Relief flooded you as you got your hands on the smooth skin of his cock.
He moaned at the contact, “Shittt. That feels amazing. S’much better than my own hand…”
He slides another finger into as you begin stroking along his length.
You both begin to move in sync with one another, the sound of your pleasure beginning to echo around the room.
“Can hear how wet you are.” Harry grunts, fingers curling inside you.
Your hand squeezes around his cock as he does that, causing you both to moan.
“Harry. I need you inside me… please.” His fingers were already close enough to making you come and you weren’t sure how he’d react if you came before he even got close to being in you.
“Can I make you come first? Want you to feel good, baby. If you can handle more than one orgasm, please?”
He wants you to feel good.
Before himself.
You realise this man in genuinely a saint. Like more than you ever could have imagined.
“Seriously?” You still don’t even believe he means it. Maybe he’s just saying it to be nice, and actually wants you to say no?
“What do you mean?” He looks a little confused, slowing down the kisses he was placing along your neck.
“I— sorry. I’m just not used to being so… looked after, I guess?”
“Have other guys not made you come first…?” He looks shocked.
“No… not usually? Occasionally, if I’m really horny and it wouldn’t take long.”
“I know there’s some scumbags out there, but with a pussy like yours… they should be begging to please you.” He shakes his head, not finished talking.
“For the record, lovie, if you weren’t so adamant in getting filled with my cock, I’d be making you come atleast twice before I fuck you.”
He pulls his hand entirely away from your cunt, allowing you to feel his absence as he talks. “Then I’d edge you with my fingers to the brink of your third. Until you’re begging me to stretch you out.”
He delivers a gentle slap over the hood of your clit once he’s done talking. Sliding his middle and pointer finger back down into your entrance to gather the arousal there, and slip it up to your clit.
“Oh.” You breathed out. A whiney noise following from your throat shortly after.
You were surprised. Not because it was Harry, if anyone would be like this it would be him. But you’re used to being a second thought sometimes. Just an aid to an end goal.
You’d become accustomed to it. Now there’s a man in front of you, who wants to please you because it seems to make him happy.
He reaffirms that thought, “I don’t think you’re aware how happy I’m gonna feel when your cunt is pulsating around my fingers in a few minutes.”
With saying that, he pinches and rolls your clit between his fingers and you struggle to find words to respond to what he said.
“Fuck— I— thank you.” You’re shaking a little as he increases the speed as he works over your clit.
“Nono. Thank you. You’re so nice under my fingers. So wet and warm.” He hums as you begin to squirm against his touch.
Your hand movements around his hard cock have gone to a lax and languid stroke, and almost stop all together when he dives his fingers back into your hole.
“Mhm— Harry!” You gasp, quickly starting to lose all your sense of self as he plays with you.
“That’s it, Y/n. Let me take care of you.”
He works you expertly, and your cunt is so unprepared for the attention from someone other than yourself. Its making it hard to hold yourself together.
You’re clenching around his fingers, and the tension in your stomach is quickly building.
“I’m gonna… fuck I’m gonna come soon, H.” You moan, followed by another curse of his name as he flicks your clit with his thumb.
Your pushing your hips against his hand, grinding into every movement. Chasing that explosion of pleasure in your abdomen.
“Wanna feel it. Come on, let it all go f’me.” He coos, keeping a hard and fast pace with his hand.
You cry out his name, nails scraping down his skin as you beg for the final push, which comes quickly.
A curl of his thrusting fingers and your movement lapses immediately, jaw going slack as you come around his hand.
It’s better than he could ever imagine, the noises coming from your lips are sinful, and you lean forward, open mouth panting over his cheek.
Hot breath fanning across his face while you’re still clenching around him.
He moves to bite your bottom lip, earning a jerk of your hips and another moan from you.
After your heart rate slows, he gently removes his fingers out of you.
“Good girl. Took it so well.” He pecks your nose with his lips.
“Can take your cock better.” You let out a breathy laugh.
He smiles, dimples popping out.
“Little minx. C’mere.”
He draws you into a hug, pulling your middle flush to his chest.
“D’ya need a minute, or no?” He asks gently, voice close to you ear.
“No, I’m ok, I’m good.” You blush.
“S’it too much to ask to take your shirt off?” His hand pulls at the hem of your tshirt.
“Can yours come off too?” You chuckle, leaning back to settle your eyes on the long sleeve covering his chest.
He nods, still smiling as he lets you take his off first. Revealing his toned chest and inked skin.
You run your hands along the ridges of his abs as he reaches for to pull off your own shirt.
Lifting your arms, you hear his little intake of breath as he remembers you don’t have a bra on.
The shirt gets tossed elsewhere as he is focused solely on your chest.
He looks transfixed as he trails a hand up to ghost over the skin on the side of your breast.
“Fuckin’ hell. Look at you, Angel. Got the prettiest tits.” He says it with such endearment.
You squirm with pleasure as he cups you in his hand, bringing your nipple to his mouth. His hot, velvety tongue slicking over the sensitive skin there.
Your back arches immediately, a moan sounding from you.
“Fuckkk…” you drawl out, letting him suck it into his mouth.
The sensation is enough to have you a mess in his hands again. The way he works his mouth over you like it’s nothing.
You take his cock back into your grip— having momentarily let go during the haze of your orgasm— and run the head of him through your folds.
His mouth falls open around you, moaning, letting his breath fan over your sensitive nipple.
“Jesus Christ, Y/n.” He groans against you.
“So hard…” you whisper, rubbing his tip over your clit.
He lifts his head away from your chest, glancing down to see the connection between the two of you.
And he moves a hand down, lacing it over the top of yours.
You felt so connected with him. Just with his hand now over yours, and his length pressed into your clit.
You can’t even imagine the state you’ll be put in when he’s inside of you.
“Harry… need you.” You plead again, without care of if he’s sick of hearing it.
You need him. Need him so bad it’s consuming you. All you can think about is him. Not even in the sense that all you want his cock.
You just need to feel like you’re close as you possible can be to him.
“I know baby, I know.” He kisses your cheek, “Y’want me to use a condom?”
“Only if you want to. I’m clean and still on the pill.”
“I trust you. If that’s what you want.” He reaffirms with you.
“H, I have to feel you. Just need to be close to you.” You lean into his neck, kissing the skin there.
“And s’this position comfortable for you?”
“Yes, yes. I’ll take you anyway, any position. Whether you want me on top, under you, bent over… don’t care. Just want you.”
“God, you’re such a good girl. So amazing f’me.”
You let him guide your hand to the base of his length. And then slowly, with his hand interlocked over yours, drag his tip to your entrance.
Your already letting out whines, free arm coming to lace into the hair at the nape of his neck.
You lower your hips down on him, feeling the head of his cock slip up into you.
You both let out a moan at the sensation, whispers of each others names falling from your lips. Gently you keep sliding him in further, soaking in every second you feel him stretch you out.
This was what you missed. The feeling of connecting with someone. Not necessarily with just the sex. But feeling intertwined. Like you couldn’t tell where your body ended and his begun.
“You’re better than I could’ve dreamed, lovely.” He praised, earning a clench of your cunt. One he wasn’t expecting, that had him moaning into the shell of your ear.
He sounded perfect. Like an Angel. And you melted further into him at the sound.
“This is perfect, Harry. Needed it so bad.” You stroked his hair as you spoke.
He removed his hand from over yours, coming to rest both of them on your hips, guiding you down further.
Once you moved your own, you could let him slide you all the way. Your clit brushing over his pubic bone once you reached the base.
“Clenching ‘round me like that—“ he hisses, “gon’ make me come too fast, darling.”
“Let me feel you for a second.” He holds you in place, letting you sit still over his thick cock.
“So wet, so warm. Made to fit my cock, hm?” He squeezes the skin of your waist.
He bucks his pelvis up to you after you moan out an agreement, “Made just for you, Harry.”
And he’s starting to thrust slowly in and out, guiding your hips through the movements.
“Lay on me.” He rearranges himself so you can lay your chest onto his, and rest your head next to his cheek.
Your breasts press up against him, and clit is now being stimulated even more by his front.
“Need you close to me.” He whispers, and you start to bounce onto his cock gently. Bum slapping on the strength of his thighs.
“Me too, H. Have to feel every part of you.” You moaned, circling yourself on him. Each rotation hitting your clit, causing you to moan.
He also is in shock at the sensation of being inside of you. It almost like a surprise to his entire nervous system.
He draws his fern-adorning hips back, only to snap them back upwards. Skin slapping at the movement.
Not to mention the sound of your wetness gliding along his cock each time you got thrusted into, which was echoing through the room.
“Listen to how wet you are. All for me.” He groans, picking up the pace.
Your lips find a spot to suck below his ear as he talks, nipping at the skin.
“I’m so… you make me so wet.” You agree, pussy pulsating around his bare cock.
“Love it. Don’t you? Us using each other like this.”
He says it, knowing the dirty talk in turning you on even more. But you both know it goes beyond getting a quick fuck.
This is everything to you both. Feeling like, for the first time in so long, you are truly not alone.
“Want you to use me, Harry.” You roll your cunt, pushing your clit onto any part of him it reaches, still clenching at the contact.
“Dirty Girl. So fucking desperate.” He laughs, kissing your hair.
“Who would I be to talk, though.” He grabs at your ass, “I’d beg you for this everyday. This sweet cunt around me. For you to touch me. Anything.”
He admits it with a moan following after it, your pussy fluttering.
You feel it building it inside the pit of your stomach.
“Want you to fill me up.” You state, panting as your thighs start to shake, and you realise in a few minutes your going to come. And hard.
“With my come, huh? Want me to put it deep inside y’baby?” He asks you, hips bucking excitedly at the prospect.
“Yes! Fill me with your warm come, Harry.” You’re starting to go delusional.
Filthy fucking words flying from your mouth as your arousal overtakes every rational part of your brain.
“Shit—“ He is pressing you flush to his body, holding you as close as he possibly can. The pace of his cock slapping into you increasing by the second.
“I wanna see it drip out of you, Y/N.” He groans, fucking into you hard and fast.
You feel amazing, your heart racing in your chest, and your whole body vibrating. You’re being stimulated in so many places. Your nipples pressed up to his toned chest, clit being rubbed by his pubic bone, god— and his cock fucking you.
“Thankyouthankyou—“ your mind is quickly turning to a mess with him swallowing you up like this.
You feel your orgasm approaching with a tension in the pit of your stomach. It’s quickly becoming the only sensation you can feel outside of the harsh thrusts Harry is giving you.
“Good little slut.” He grabs your face, lust taking over the both of you like you’re teenagers.
His pace doesn’t let up, and he stares at you with half lidded eyes.
“Spit in my mouth.” You beg, not even sure where the fucking thought was from before it came out of your lips.
“God… fuck— open your mouth.” He grunts, tilting his head to angle his lips to yours.
You open it, sticking your tongue out a little past your bottom lip, ready to catch anything that would drip given the fact you’re still on top of him.
He purses his lips, gathering up his saliva and dropping it down onto your tongue.
It was fucking feral, and you loved every second of it.
It tasted of him, and you swallowed it without even being asked.
Just watching that happen had him fucking you like it was his sole purpose in life. His thrusts became despeate for you.
You shook with anticipation, “I’m— I’m gonna come!”
“Yes… fuck yes. Come on, baby, finish all over my cock.”
His words were your breaking point, your cunt clenching so hard around him that he groaned aloud.
“Fuckfuckfuck— make me come, Y/N.” before he started to pulsate in you, putting his load deep into your pussy.
Having it happen almost all at once prolonged your orgasm, making you continue to moan and writhe in his grip for what felt like forever. Squeezing him until he had nothing left to give you.
Once you slowly both regained your awarenesses, you stayed on top of him. Sweaty and sticky, but you stayed close as possible to him.
You couldn’t fathom that just happened.
“Harry…” you whispered, and he hummed to the quiet chant of his name.
“Thank you. Thank you so much.”
“Stop thanking me baby. You did just as much for me.” He smiles into your cheek.
He brought his arms up to cage you to his chest, “and it’s so nice to be holding you.”
You move to kiss his lips, gently sucking his bottom one into your mouth. Lulling your tongue over it, letting it go with a pop.
“I haven’t felt this present in… in months.” You say quietly.
“Neither have I. Y’make me feel safe. Which might sound odd, but s’true.” He glances at you, watching you smile at his words.
“Im so glad we did that.” You make sure he knows you don’t have a single regret in following through with everything.
“Once we’re showered, gonna have a serious conversation about the fact you asked me to spit in your mouth.” He chuckles.
You flushed, not sure whether to be embarrassed about it or not.
“Got a little uhm.. carried away.” You tried to justify.
“Don’t worry, don’t worry,” he laughs, indicating he was just teasing, “thought it was so hot. Just never would have expected it.”
“I wanna know what else you’re into, yknow.” He licks his lips.
“What other dirty little secrets your hiding up in that head of yours.”
You shake your head, “shut up.”
“M’serious. We’ve got a lot of time to kill.” He’s still chuckling, hand coming to stroke through your hair.
“And I loved that. Loved feeling you so close. You’re a dream.” He pecks your cheek again.
“Make me some of your good cooking and I’ll think about it.” You joke.
“But really…” you pause, “thank you too, H. That meant everything to me.”
He didn’t reply with words, they wouldn’t be enough, so he just kissed you. Kissed you with every ounce of his being.
content warning: drug use, sexual topics, divorce, found family
Harry Styles has everything—a thriving career as a London political consultant, a glamorous marriage, and a spotless reputation. But when a sharp-tongued teen shows up at his door claiming to be his daughter, his life unravels. What begins as a search for the truth turns into a fight to give her the home and love she’s never known, forcing them both to face the risks of loving someone deeply.
ACT 1
Part 1: Harry gets an unexpected visitor, and it’s more than he bargained for. [3.2k]
Part 2: Harry takes a page out of Arabella's book. [4.5k]
Part 3: Harry’s past catches up with him, shaking things up more than he expected. [5k]
Part 4: Arabella meets Harry's wife. It’s awkward, but something starts to shift. [4k]
Part 5: Harry faces the reality of Arabella’s past and what it means for their future. [2.2k]
Part 6: Arabella learns she's not as sly as she thinks she is. Harry makes an offer he thinks is irrefutable. [2.5k]
Part 7: Harry starts to realise it might be too late to mend the broken ties with his daughter. [5.3k]
Part 8: Arabella learns Harry is a man of his word. [5.9k]
Part 9: Harry becomes concerned for Arabella's safety, and he doesn't know how to help her. [3.2k]
Part 10: Harry and Arabella reunite, but it's under...questionable circumstances. [5.4k]
ACT 2
Part 11: Arabella settles in with Harry. [4.5k]
Part 12: Harry starts to feel in over his head. [7.9k]
summary : you and THE harry styles had a one night stand.. the night was a blur so the morning you wake up you’re quite surprised.
warnings : mentions of sex, swearing, fluff?? pls let me know if there was anything else!!
*HEY GUYS!!! first of all I want to thank you for everything on my first ever writing post, i know it’s not the best thing you’ve ever read, it’s definitely not the best thing I’ve written but I didn’t expect that much love. I’m so sorry for just disappearing, life has been very busy but I will get back to things soon! p.s this is how y/n will be in most of my writings, not shy, very outgoing and sarcastic!!!*
Last night was very much a blur.
The only thing you remember was drinking at a random club in the Hollywood Hills, then stumbling into a SUV before everything else was just a blackout.
Waking up to the sun beaming onto your face, your eyes flutter open, hand coming up to block the bright light from your eyes. Although everything seems quite normal, you feel a heavy thing over your torso and a soft aroma of a Tom Ford cologne, pushing yourself up quickly you scan the room, confused on how you might of ended up here.
Well, you already know because the most logical reason would be that you wanted to get someone’s dick wet. You look down to see if the man you pleasured was good looking at-least and-
“Holy fuck.” Your eyes widen, your heart beating out of your chest as you freeze. Harry fucking Styles is sleeping right beside you, curls sticking up left and right, you realise his face was buried into your stomach because of the red mark on it.
You also realise you both were naked, quickly scrambling out of the bed- or wait, his bed. You grab your panties from the floor pulling them up, panic mode absolutely activated.
You hear him moving on the bed, sheets rustling as he sits up, glancing to him he’s stretching his arms above his head, turning his head to you and you notice the panic now evident on his face.
“Hey.. uhh, are you okay? Did I scare you or something, I promise I didn’t kidnap you.” He watches you as you put on your bra, grabbing your shirt and jeans to put on.
“I didn’t realise I literally just fucked Harry Styles, sorry.” Looking into the full-size mirror he has next to the bed you fix your hair up, not noticing how he’s got out of his bed and put his boxers back on, you also didn’t notice how he winced from what you said, he didn’t like when he was labeled as just a famous celebrity a random girl had fucked after having the best sex he’s ever had.
“Hey, chill out. Calm down I’m not gonna like bite you or anything. Unless..” he walks up behind you, looking at you through the mirror.
“Harry, this isn’t funny. 15 year old me would be absolute screaming right now that I actually finally fucked Harry Styles.” Your face blooms in redness at the confession, you see him raise his eyebrows in the mirror, smiling.
“‘S really cute y’know, your dream coming true. You don’t have to go right now.” His hands find their way to your hips, pulling you back into his chest as you keep your eyes on yourself in the mirror, clipping your earrings back into your ears.
You practically lose your breath as his hands caress your hips, all you want to do is pounce onto him and fuck him yet again. But you can’t, you always tended to have attachment issues and having them with Harry Styles was not the way to go.
You had to continue on with life and hide the fact that you hooked up with Harry in the back of your head.
“I have to go, Harry. I have a home and a life, maybe we can hook up some other time in like 3005 or something!” You muster up a smile for him, turning to look up at him, his eyes shine a beautiful emerald green, a dimple pokes out of his cheek, his lips a beautiful shade of pink.
Oh you wanted him so bad again, you knew Harry, from his music of course but you didn’t know or let’s say like him enough to be a fan, that’s for sure. He tugs on your hips again, your hands coming to his waist to brace yourself.
You did wonder if this is what the routine was with all his hookups, fuck them till he was satisfied? Part of you also didn’t think so as he was such a gentleman.
“Come on, darling. Jus’ a little bit longer? I promise, this is not what happens wit’ all the girls I have seen.” The pet name makes you all giddy, your hand coming up to comb through his chocolate curls.
“Are you just trying to make me feel bad for you so then I can follow your music and promote it and whatever?” You ask, eyebrow raising. You see he’s taken aback by that, his eyebrows creasing.
“No, no! Y/N im so sorry if it looks that way, oh my god. I promise that’s not- that’s definitely not what I’m trying to do.” You giggle at his panic, a little surprised that he remembered your name.
“I’m just kidding.” You smile as he pushes his bottom lip out in a soft pout, without thinking you push up onto your tippy toes, pressing your lips against his soft ones, he kisses you back almost instantly, innocently pecking your lips a few times before he slips his tongue into your mouth.
Harry then lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he moves back to the bed, mumbling something softly against your lips.
“Maybe you could give me your number or something if I prove to you that the night was really worth it.” He pulls away, a smirk on his lips, you laugh, biting your bottom lip softly.
“Yeah, yeah. Dream on Watermelon Sugar singer.”
You see a spark in his eyes and as he leans back in to kiss you again your vision goes black.
You feel heat on your body and your eyes snap open, the sun beaming on you, yet again. You look around the room, sitting up, you’re in your own room. You look beside you, a messy empty spot beside you.
Your head then whips to someone walking into the bedroom, it was your fiancée, a bright smile planted on his face seeing you’re finally awake.
“You were having a good dream so I didn’t want to wake you, sounded like you were having fun.” He wiggles his eyebrows, coming to move onto the bed, pulling you into his chest.
“Yeah, it was about the first time i met you.” You plant a kiss onto his bare chest, arms wrapping around his waist.
“Ohh, s’right when I was Watermelon Sugar boy.” He smiles, kissing the top of your head. “Lucky you finally gave into giving me your number and accepted me into your life, hey? Now m’getting married to my one night stand in two weeks.”
“You’re still a loser, Harry. And no I’m still not following your Spotify even when we’re married.” You mumble against him.
