no one else feels like home
authors note: I'm back or am I
summary: after a night out leaves y/n insecure, harry decides to show her exactly why she’s the only one he sees, the only one he wants, and the only one he’ll ever come home to <3
warnings: light angst, smut
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅
The restaurant was loud in that curated, expensive sort of way, with conversation echoing off sleek walls and candlelight flickering against polished wine glasses. Silverware clinked delicately. Harry sat beside her in the booth, one long arm stretched across the back, fingertips brushing the bare skin of her shoulder ever so often, like he couldn't help it. His other hand rested on a drink he hadn't really touched, something with herbs in it that sounded respectable even though it wasn't what he wanted. He wasn't paying much attention to the conversation anymore. He was watching her.
She had leaned in earlier, whispering into his collar that it was warm in the room, that she could feel the heat of his body even with space between them. He'd smiled at that, tucked her hair behind her ear, and told her she could always climb into his lap if she needed air. She had rolled her eyes and got all shy just the way he liked.
Now she was quiet. Still soft beside him, still polite and pretty and gentle, but quieter than before. When one of the producers made a loud comment about the actress across the table, about how she lit up the whole screen in that last film, about how Harry had better be careful sitting next to someone with legs like that, Y/N had just laughed along with everyone else. But Harry could feel the shift in her body.
She went still, then tense, then pulled away ever so slightly. His fingertips barely touched her now.
He didn't say anything at first. Let her stir the ice in her drink with her straw, let her eyes drift to her phone, let her shoulders fold in like she wanted to shrink under the table.
It wasn't until they were in the car on the way home that it came up.
He had been quiet, too, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on her thigh. Lost in his thoughts, he had accidentally taken a wrong turn earlier, and now they were winding through unfamiliar side streets, rain starting to hit the windshield in soft pulses. Y/N stared out the window, cheek pressed to the cool glass, her dress hitched slightly up her thigh.
"She's very pretty," she said suddenly.
Harry glanced over. "What?"
"That actress. The one everyone kept talking about. She's gorgeous."
He didn't say anything.
Y/N turned her head and faced forward again. "And tall. And confident. You looked nice next to her."
Harry's jaw flexed. He shifted his grip slightly on the wheel.
"What are you getting at?"
She shrugged. "Nothing. Just saying."
"You looked nice next to her," he repeated. "You mean in that photo? The one some random photographer took while I wasn't even looking at her?"
"You weren't looking away."
"I wasn't looking at her," he corrected, voice a little sharper now. "You know that."
Y/N shifted in her seat. "It's not a big deal."
"It clearly is, if you're bringing it up."
She didn't respond. Harry sighed.
"Why do you do that?" he asked. "Make it sound like I'd want someone else just because they're in the same room?"
"I didn't say that."
"You implied it."
Her hands were folded tightly in her lap. "I just meant she's more your world."
"What world is that?"
"You know. Press. Premieres. Interviews. People like her."
Harry tightened his grip on the steering wheel.
"You mean the people who know how to pose for photos and say the right thing on talk shows. People who don't get nervous in a room full of strangers."
"I didn't mean it as an insult."
"It's not about that," he said. "It's the way you say it. Like I'm settling. Like I'm tolerating something lesser."
Y/N turned her face back to the window. "I'm not trying to pick a fight."
"I know," he said, voice softer. "But you are hurting my feelings."
She blinked and looked at him, startled.
He met her eyes before turning back to the road. "You think I don't notice when you pull away like that? When you shrink a little every time someone jokes about who I could be with instead?"
"I just don't want to embarrass you."
He let out a breath. "Embarrass me?"
She flinched. He immediately softened.
"I didn't mean to snap. But don't say that."
She didn't respond. Her lip trembled.
"Listen," he said, easing the car to a stop at a red light. Rain tapped softly against the roof. "You're my person. Not because you fit some box or say the right things. Because you're you."
She nodded, but he could tell she didn't believe it.
Harry reached across and turned her face toward him with two fingers under her chin. Her skin was warm, her eyes glossy.
"I need you to hear me, Y/N. Really hear me."
She swallowed. "Okay."
He leaned in, voice low. "If I ever wanted someone like her, I'd be with someone like her."
Y/N's brows pulled together.
"But I'm not," he continued. "Because no one else feels like home to me. No one else makes me want to skip the afterparty and get in bed just to press my face to your neck. No one else gets the version of me that's not performing."
She blinked, quick.
"You think she would know what I sound like when I'm soft? When I can't even get my words out properly?"
Y/N's breath hitched.
"You're the one I write songs about. The one I picture when I'm halfway across the world. The one I dream about when I'm surrounded by people pretending to care."
She looked at him, eyes full now. Open, hurting, hopeful.
"I love you," he said. "And I hate when you make yourself small. You don't need to. Not with me."
"I'm trying," she whispered. "Sometimes I just feel out of place."
"Then I'll stand closer. Make room for you. Pull you into me until you remember you belong."
The light turned green. He didn't move.
"I'm serious," he said. "You're mine. And I don't want to hear another word about how someone else fits better. There's no better for me than you."
Her lip wobbled. She leaned over the console, pressed her face to his shoulder, and wrapped her arms around his waist.
Harry kissed the top of her head, fingers threading through her hair.
"I'll keep saying it," he murmured. "Until you believe it."
The car ride home was silent after that, not heavy, just thick with something tender. When they pulled into the driveway, he opened her door for her. Neither of them rushed.
He didn't let go of her hand when they got inside. The house was quiet, lights low. Harry kicked off his shoes and looked at her. Her lashes were still damp.
"Go upstairs," he said softly. "I'll be right up."
Y/N went without a word.
When he joined her minutes later, she was sitting on the bed, barefoot, in one of his shirts. She looked up at him like she wasn't sure if she was allowed to fall apart. He crossed the room and kissed her forehead, then dropped to his knees.
"I didn't mean it like that," she finally murmured.
Harry stepped in close, warm and quiet behind her, his lips brushing her hairline.
"I know, love. But you still meant something."
Her eyes prickled, the heat she always tried to swallow down building low in her throat.
"You just looked so good next to her," she said, barely above a whisper. "She was tall and pretty and funny, and she…she talked to you like you were hers."
"I'm yours."
Y/N didn't answer right away. Harry reached around to slide his fingers through hers, drawing her hand up to his chest. His heartbeat pulsed steadily beneath her palm.
"I mean it. You know I do. Say it back."
She tilted her chin up just enough to meet his eyes. "You're mine."
"There you go," he said, kissing her temple. "There's my girl."
The catch in her breath wasn't lost on him. Y/N was soft like that. Gentle in her jealousy, but it tore her up all the same.
"You looked beautiful tonight," he mumbled, nosing at her jaw. "Kept tryin' to behave, but you were sittin' there in that dress, lookin' like that, and I could barely think straight."
She let out a small, shaky laugh. "You're just saying that."
"Am I?" His mouth dipped to her neck. "Or is it true, and you just can't take a compliment when you've talked yourself into thinkin' you're not enough?"
Her silence was answer enough. Harry's fingers slid down her arms, wrapping her up from behind, pressing his chest to her spine.
"You're more than enough," he said quietly. "You're everything. I don't want anyone else. I never even look at anyone else."
"I know," she said, voice wavering.
He turned her in his arms, and her face crumpled for a second, not from sadness, exactly, but from being seen.
Harry kissed her mouth, then again, deeper this time, tongue slow and warm against hers. He kissed her until her body softened, until her hands found his chest and clutched there like she didn't want to let go. He kissed her like they had all the time in the world.
And then he dropped to his knees.
Y/N blinked down at him, breath caught.
"Harry-"
"I want you to feel how much I love you," he said, kissing the inside of her thigh, voice quiet, reverent. "Wanna take my time with you."
Her hands trembled at her sides. He slid them up under the hem of her (his) shirt, kissing each bit of newly exposed skin as she went, fingers easing the fabric higher and higher.
"Let me," he whispered, brushing his nose against the lace of her underwear. "Just let me, yeah?"
She nodded. Couldn't do or say anything else.
He pulled her panties down slowly, helping her shuffle out of them, and pressed a soft kiss right to the crease of her thigh. Then another. Then another.
Harry was patient. So achingly patient, like he had to rebuild her trust with every press of his mouth. His tongue was gentle at first, slow licks, lips soft, sucking lightly on her clit just to hear the way her breath hitched. He groaned when she gasped, hands firm on her hips to keep her from pulling away.
"You taste so sweet," he mumbled, tongue working her open, wet and slow and obscene. "Always so fuckin' good for me."
She was already shaking. He could feel it in the way her knees wobbled, in the little means she tried to swallow. He flattened his tongue against her again, messier this time, licking through everything he could reach, then flicking quick and filthy over her clit until she gripped his hair.
"Harry," she whimpered, trying to pull him closer and push him away all at once.
"C'mere, sweet girl," he said, standing long enough to lift her and lay her on the bed, her shirt pushed up over her breasts. He kissed her again before returning to his place between her legs.
This time, he didn't hold back.
He spat on her.
Let it drip from his tongue, filthy and deliberate, right onto her clit. Y/N gasped, hips jolting, thighs trembling.
Harry groaned low in his throat. "That's it. That's my good girl."
He spread her pussy with his fingers as he sucked her clit into his mouth. Y/N's fingers twisted in the sheets, her head thrown back, breaths coming in short little gasps.
He pushed one finger in. Then two. Then three. Slowly, carefully, curling them just right. She was fluttering around him already.
"Look at you," he whispered, awestruck, eyes locked on her face, mouth shiny with her. "All of this just from my mouth? Some fingers? Telling you how fuckin' perfect you are like you don't already know?"
She nodded, barely able to breathe.
He pressed another kiss to her clit, not stopping his fingers for a second. "You're my everything, Y/N. Every little sound you make, every breath. It's all mine."
Her thighs started to shake, and Harry could feel it- the tension building, that delicious swell under his fingers. She was so close.
"I've got you," he says quietly, pressing in deeper, curling his fingers just right. "Let go for me, sweetheart. Let me feel it."
She came with a broken cry, thighs clamping around his head, hands fisting the sheets. Harry didn't stop. Just kept licking, slow and sweet, drawing it out until she was whimpering and twitching beneath him.
Then he kissed the inside of her knee, slow and soft, and crawled up her body to kiss her mouth.
"Did so good for me," he whispered. "So fuckin' good."
Y/N wrapped her arms around him, breath all shaky. "You're so good to me," she whispered dreamily.
Harry kissed her cheek, her temple, her mouth. "Always want to be."
And then- because he couldn't help himself- he kissed her again, harder this time, tongue deep, hand sliding back down between her legs.
She gasped, arching into him. "Harry-"
"Not done with you," he said, voice low and rough. "You need to feel me everywhere."
He kissed his way down again, slower this time, savoring her reactions. Every little tremble, every whimper. He pushed her thighs open again and groaned at the sight.
"So pretty," he muttered. "So mine."
This time, he started slow and didn't stay gentle for long. He licked her like he was starving, loud and messy, dragging sounds out of her that made his cock ache. His fingers slid back in, curling up until she was writhing, begging, pulling at his hair.
"You're gonna come again," he told her, voice wrecked. "Right on my fingers. Right on my tongue."
She tried to protest, hips twitching, breath coming in broken sobs. "Harry, I- it's too much-"
"No, it's not," he said, curling his fingers. "You can take it. I know you can. Let go for me again, love."
She came harder the second time, thighs shaking, body arching clean off the bed.
Harry moaned against her, fingers slowing only when she pushed at his shoulder with a shaky hand.
He kissed the inside of her thigh, then her hip, then her stomach, all the way up to her mouth.
"Still think I want someone else?" he whispered, brushing her hair back.
"No," she breathed.
"Say it."
"You want me," she said. "Only me."
He kissed her, soft and deep.
"Good girl."
She lay beneath him, boneless and dazed, her breath catching in little waves as he kissed her forehead and tucked the damp strands of hair behind her ears. His hands hadn't stopped moving. Even in the aftermath, even when her thighs trembled and her chest heaved, Harry couldn't stop touching her- brushing down the length of her sides, stroking up the backs of her thighs, fingers skimming over her ribs like he had to reassure himself she was really there.
Y/N's eyes were barely open, but she saw it- the way his mouth stayed parted like he was still catching his breath, the way he blinked down at her like he was somewhere between wrecked and worshipful. His curls were messy, his lips swollen, his chin slick from her. He looked ruined. Still, he looked at her as if she were the one who had undone him.
She reached her fingers up to trace his mouth. He kissed them automatically, eyes fluttering shut.
"Need you," he whispered, quiet and desperate.
She nodded, too full of feeling to find her voice, and Harry kissed her again, slow and sinking, his whole weight pressing her into the mattress. It wasn't hurried- just heavy with want. With everything he hadn't said at dinner. Everything she hadn't let herself believe now.
He pulled her dress up over her head, smoothing it off her arms with careful hands, like he was peeling away every last layer of insecurity. When he looked at her again, bare and flushed in the dark, he let out a shaky chuckle.
"Christ, Y/N. You're perfect."
He ran his hands over her slowly, palms warm on her stomach, her hips, the softness of her breasts. She felt worshipped even in the silence. Harry kissed down her collarbone, then lower, taking one of her nipples into his mouth and sucking gently until her fingers twisted in his hair. His other hand slid back between her thighs, and she gasped as his fingers slid through the slick again, sensitive but still wanting and open for him.
He moaned against her chest, slowly grinding his hips into the mattress like he couldn't take it anymore. She reached for him, cupped his jaw, and guided his face back up to hers.
"I want you," she whispered.
"Yeah?" His voice cracked. "Tell me how."
"Slow," she breathed. "Like this. I want to feel you everywhere."
Harry kissed her again, this time with so much softness she nearly melted into it. He pulled away just long enough to drag his clothes off, then pressed back into her, skin to skin now, their bodies sliding together. He didn't rush. He kissed her neck, her shoulder, her jaw. He licked a path down her throat and whispered her name into the space just beneath her ear.
When he finally pushed in, it was with a quiet groan that vibrated right through her.
“Fuck, baby…so tight for me.”
Y/N gasped, wrapping her legs around his waist, drawing him deeper. He filled her slowly, inch by inch, thick and warm and overwhelming. She clutched at his shoulders, digging into his back.
He didn't move yet. He just stayed there, buried deep, forehead resting against hers.
"This good?" he asked.
"Yes," she whispered, breathless. "Feels perfect."
He pulled back just a little, then eased back in, the drag of him so slow and tender it made her ache. She whimpered into his mouth, and he kissed her through it.
"That's it, love. I know. Just like that, yeah?"
He rocked into her with slow, deliberate rolls of his hips, letting her feel every inch, every vein, every stretch, every stroke. His hand found hers, fingers lacing together beside her head, and she squeezed back tight.
"You're so good to me," she said, eyes wet with everything she hadn't said earlier. "You always are."
He kissed the corner of her eyes. "Because you're mine. You're my girl. My sweet, soft girl. You think anyone else could ever touch you like this?"
She shook her head, tears slipping down into her hairline. He licked the salt from her cheek.
"No one else gets to see you like I do," he whispered. "No one else knows how to make you fall apart. No one else gets to see you all messy and fucked out and mine."
She moaned, quiet and choked, and Harry started to move a little faster, hips grinding deep, the slide of him so slick it was filthy.
"I'm gonna come," he panted, voice wrecked against her throat. "Don't want to. Don't wanna be done with this."
"Then don't," she begged. "Wait for me. Come with me."
Harry groaned, pulling her leg up higher around his waist, sinking even deeper. The new angle made her cry out, walls clenching around him. He reached between them, thumb finding her clit with practiced ease, rubbing tight circles that had her shaking all over again.
"You gonna give me another one?" he asked. "You gonna let me feel you come on my cock this time, sweetheart?"
She nodded frantically, too far gone to speak, hips rocking up into his to chase that last bit of friction.
"Come for me, baby," he growled. "Let me have it."
She fell apart with a cry, body locking around him, her orgasm washing over her in waves. Harry held her through it, thrusting once, twice more before he stilled with a low, broken moan, his body jerking as he spilled into her.
They stayed like that for a long time- trembling, breathing hard, tangled up in one another.
Harry kissed her like he was afraid to stop. His hands kept moving, smoothing her hair, tracing her jaw, brushing over her back. Y/N could barely open her eyes, but when she did, he was there, watching her with so much love that it made her chest ache.
"You're everything to me," he said softly. "D'you know that?"
She nodded, nuzzling closer. "I do."
He pressed a kiss to her lips, then another to her shoulder, whispering, "Good," like he'd finally exhaled after holding it in all night.
She curled into him, body humming, heart finally quiet.
He didn't let her go. Not even for a second.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅
