Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

pairing: college student!grumpy!harry × college student!sunshine!fem reader

trope: (kinda) enemies to lovers

chapter warnings: slight angst, groveling, silent treatments and guilt

series cw: angst, smut (minors dni!) fluff, sexual tension, drama, character development, drug use, alcohol consumption, foul language

word count: 6.6k

chapter one I chapter two I chapter three I chapter four I chapter five I chapter six I chapter seven | chapter eight

divider by: @firefly-graphics

Harry feels like shit. He knows he fucked up big time, not only did he lie to Y/N but he also brought up their childhood. He didn’t mean it in a mean tone but he knows she probably took it that way, he completely brushed over the fact that she said she liked him and blew up in her face. All of this happened simply because she asked for some batteries and he was quick to try to play Superman. He stares at the door sadly before setting the pack of batteries in front of her door and quickly sending a text to let her know he left them before he walks back to his car.

He can’t help the heavy feeling in his chest as he sits in the car, both hands gripping the steering wheel as he stares at the front of her house. He should’ve known she’d catch feelings first, as kids she was giggling at him and inviting him to her house. Their friendship started sometime in middle school after they bonded over their shared love for music and singing. They’d hang out at each others’ house taking turns doing karaoke and making jokes, pure happiness radiating over them. They’d hang out sometimes at lunch, the two of them sitting at one of the few picnic tables lining the brick wall. The sound of children screaming as they ran around, the giggles of girls crowded together as they gossip, and ever so often the teacher supervising everyone will yell as they correct someone’s behavior. The heat of the sun kisses their skin as both kids sit quietly together eating whatever was on the menu for today or what their parent made for them. The breeze wasn’t too strong, it was enough to cool them down slightly as it brushed against their skin.

There were days where Harry wouldn't hang out with Y/N in favor of spending time with his own friends, Y/N never minds usually simply because she’ll go to her own friends and they’ll meet up at the end of the day. The sound of a door knocking would erupt Y/N from her schoolwork and she would eagerly run to the door only to be scolded by her mother, her voice tired as she speaks.

“Honey, how many times have I told you no running and no answering the door.” She all but sighs when she sees the frown etched onto her daughter’s face.

“But it’s Harry mama!” Her tiny voice rings out, all sad and whiny as she attempts to plead with her mom. They’ve been through this scenario many times before and it’s always the same; her mom will say it’s dangerous because she can’t be for sure that it’s the curly headed boy. Y/N will pour and stomp her foot saying it is him because she knows his knocks, only for her mother to sigh and cave, allowing the young girl to open the door with a bright smile on her face.

Harry’s face would be equally happy to see her, the same bright smile plastered on her face showcasing his dimples before they’re running up to embracing each other into a tight hug. The rest of the day would be spent with the two kids doing their schoolwork mixed in with the sound of them laughing at something the other said when they got sidetracked. They’d stop briefly to eat whatever Y/N’s mom would make them for dinner and then they’d be back in the living room. Y/N’s mom would send Harry home only for Y/N to insist that they walk him to his house even though he knew his mom would be coming to pick him up shortly.

When his mom would pull up in their driveway, Y/N would walk him up to the car and give him a big hug, acting as if they wouldn’t see each other in the morning at school, but it doesn’t matter to them as they embrace each other tightly and would whisper ‘see you soon’ in each others ears. As Harry would get in the car, the young girl would wave at Anne as she backs out into the street. Afterwards, she would head back inside to do her nightly routine and spend some time with her own mom which resulted in conversations including Harry and how her mom’s day has been. She would yawn and rub her eyes tiredly as sleep overcame her after a while of them relaxing on the couch, her mom would smile softly before bringing the tired girl to bed, bidding her goodnight with a soft kiss to her temple as she tucks Y/N into bed.

That’s how they spent their days throughout the years, they were inseparable it seemed. Years of being close as ever, Harry always sticking up for his friend whenever she came to him with teary eyes explaining how someone started picking on her. He was her protector and she was his sunshine, while he tended to stay with his select group of friends, she would always be chatting with someone different every day. It was easy for her to make friends because of her bubbly personality, Harry could easily make friends as well but he chose not to. It was too much work and he deemed it be unnecessary to have so many people around him, especially if he knows the friendship won’t last after they graduate and life moves on. They’d eat lunch together occasionally and he’d walk her home after school.

They’re both incredibly smart children, they dedicate hours studying and going over worksheets and textbooks, it’s something they pride themselves on. They thrive off being the main hands raised in the air or the only ones in class, being able to answer any and all questions the teacher may ask while being able to back up their answers. They enjoyed going to the library together and really just anything that simulated their brains.

Years passed and now they’re in high school, both teenagers excited to experience such a new beginning. They’ve both changed as time passed, Harry’s curls have grown to past his ears and he’s grown out of his boyish face and various tattoos littered his skin and Y/N can’t help but think he’s attractive. They still hung out at lunch but it has slimmed down to once a week if they’re lucky. She watches as his friend group grows and he becomes more popular with all the students, pats on the shoulders and students calling his name as he passes through the halls.

As they drifted apart, she noticed he would do his best to beat her in answering and be the first one to turn in any homework. He was going out of his way to beat her in any way he could and so as time passed their friendship dwindled away and they became academic rivals. Simple presentations turned into competitions to see who could outdo who and who would go first, sneaking around in order to turn in assignments before the other, and remarks said under their breath when the other was presenting. This rivalry went on for months and they both secretly enjoyed the competition between them, the thrill of trying to outdo the other.

That was until out of nowhere Harry stopped trying to outdo her, in fact he seemed to stop all together. He stopped turning in assignments early and his presentations seemed as if he did it right before class, words and graphics thrown together in haste as the plain white background and the pain text was a stark difference from the hours he’d spent trying to make sure his was perfect. His hand stopped flying in the air quickly opting for a slow rise into the air. The remarks ceased and his friends seemed to drift away minus Alex, who stayed loyal to his friend. Y/N wasn’t sure what happened but that’s when everything changed, their friendship long forgotten as she watched him become a shell of who he was.

He grew quiet, barely speaking unless he was spoken to if he was at school. He never stayed at school for long if he did decide to attend, but for the most part he skipped. There would always be a chair empty in all of his classes and the school grew quiet. Y/N tried talking to him, approaching him in the halls only to be brushed off or ignored. He never stayed in place long enough for her to even begin to open her mouth to speak, and Y/N even went over to his house and spoke to Anne. She’s would ask if everything’s okay and Anne would give her a sad smile and say yes, she’ll let Harry know she stopped by and thank her for checking in.

Harry grew to dislike Y/N, he was jealous of the fact that no matter what she stayed on top of her work. She didn’t let life throw her off balance like his stepdad’s death did, and oh how he wishes he could be like that. He watches as she bounces around the school with her bright smile and glowing aura, growing disdain for the cheerful girl and the way she stays on track. He despises the way she keeps her A’s and little notes written on her worksheets telling her ‘good job.’ He started back his snarky remarks whenever he was near her, comments made about how good she is and calling her a teachers pet, he’d comment on the notes written at the top of her work in red ink. He’d tease her endlessly and whenever he couldn’t think of a remark he resulted in physical bullying, taking the last item in the cafeteria of something he knows she enjoys and bumping into her shoulder as they cross paths in the hallways.

Two weeks, he hasn’t seen Y/N in two weeks. He can’t help the small amount of sadness that swells in his chest, rooting itself into his bones whenever his eyes roam across the halls and classrooms in hopes that he’ll be able to spot her around but only coming up with nothing. She isn’t in her seat in the classrooms, the chair empty as it becomes a constant reminder of how he hurt her. He ignores the icy glares sent from her best friend every time she spots him in the hallway, he can’t talk to her. The school seems to lose its spark, it’s quieter and darker without her sunshine personality oozing into the atmosphere.

When she finally comes back, his eyes automatically land on her only to see that she become a ghost of who she is used to be. He sees her lacking the glow she usually has, he watches as she walks down the hall with her head lowered and not slipping as she normally does. Her hand doesn’t raise in the air as often and when she speaks in class, it’s quiet and doesn’t sound confident. He’s sent numerous text messages and has even resorted to calling her phone only to hear the phone ring and get sent to voicemail. He’s stopped by her house and knocked on her door, there’s no sign of her anywhere. There’s no windows open or lights on, it looks dark and empty and he can’t help the guilt that slowly starts eating at him knowing that he’s the one who caused this.

He can’t be happy when the principal tells him that he passed all of his exams. He doesn’t smirk and feel proud when he overhears the principal and a few teachers talking about how Y/N never showed up to take her exams and never answered any of their emails or let them know she won’t be able to take them. All he feels is sadness, he did this to her. He can’t be happy when he bumps into her shoulder through passing causing her to stumble, it doesn’t spark joy in him anymore to indulge in his favorite past time because it’s not the same. She’s not spitting out her own snarky remarks, she’s not shouldering him, she’s not even looking at him.

She keeps her head down in the hallways, in the classrooms, and she actively avoids her fellow classmates. He doesn’t even see her hang out with her best friend and that’s the scariest part. He doesn’t know what to do in this scenario, he feels absolutely useless and needs to fix this. He watches as her best friend lingers behind her as she walks, a look full of sadness and pity etched onto her face as she follows her. He slowly makes his way up to her, cautious because he’s almost certain he knows what’s gonna happen. He weaves the way through the crowd of students in the parking lot until he reaches her, reaching an arm out to tap on her shoulder hesitantly.

He doesn’t even get to touch her before she’s turning towards him with an icy glare - one identical to the one Y/N gave him weeks ago - and she wastes no time grabbing his hand and dragging him away from wandering eyes and ears. He stumbles behind her as he attempts to keep up with the girl, clumsily walking behind her as they reach the back of the school.

“You fucking asshole! You’re such a fucking selfish prick, Y/N’s done nothing to you!” She seethes and Harry nods, he knows he deserves this.

“I oughta hit you, smack some sense into you. God, I hate you Harry. I fucking hate you. Do you hear me? You broke her!” She yells as a few stray tears fall down her cheeks.

“I know. I’m sorry. She hasn’t talked to you?” He asks and she shakes her head.

“She hasn’t talked to me in two weeks. She wants to be left alone and it’s all your fault.”

He can’t help but to sigh as he listens to her, the guilt only growing bigger as it gnaws on his heartstrings.

“I’ll fix it, I promise. I’m so fucking sorry. I was a dumbass. I was jealous and I just wanted her to stumble a bit, throw her off course for a change.” He watches as her face wrinkles up in confusion, the fire still lit in her eyes as she stares at him. He sighs softly before explaining their story. He explains what happened between them and why they fell apart and why he treats her the way he does. She listens intently to him speak and she sighs.

“You dumbass, could’ve apologized and explained.” She huffs and he shrugs.

“Yea but it just sucked watching her keep the top while I fell off and I just wanted to be on the other end of it.” He watches as she huffs again only to begin walking away.

“You better fix this shit Styles, otherwise you’re not gonna like me one bit. I’m gonna make sure you regret this.” He nods as she walks away.

“I already do.”

Harry’s known for his bad boy look, the way he’s very popular with the ladies and notoriously known for the way a frown is etched onto his face. He’s known his short and clipped responses and most importantly his usually sour mood. He doesn’t like interacting with people for long periods of time so he absolutely despises grocery shopping. He hates having to interact with the cashiers and making unnecessary small talk with the other shoppers crossing his path.

He quickly walks through the the aisles as he grabs everything he needs and setting them inside his basket. He’s eager to get out and back to his little oasis and away from all of these people, and he’s so close to finishing the list made for both him and his roommate. He can just feel his bed calling his name as he throws a couple cans of cat food into his basket, grumbling to himself about the seemingly endless line of customers waiting in line. The people talk amongst themselves as they wait and the obnoxious sound of someone’s baby crying behind him.

He pulls out his phone and replies to a couple unread messages and his eyes linger on Y/N’s message thread, the last message showing him asking if she’s okay and he’s sorry. His message that’s been on delivered for a week, a reminder of the pain he inflicted on the girl. Maybe this is his karma for the way he handled his situation, shutting her out until he grew resentful of her. The way he pushed her away instead of letting her in, ignoring her instead of talking to her.

The distance between them should be normal considering they weren’t friends, they shared a mutual dislike towards the other. They weren’t friendly, they weren’t even tolerable of each other until Harry decided he wanted them to for his own benefit. They never spoke about anything else other than the exams so why does the silence between them now feel so heavy? Maybe it’s just the guilt of his actions eating at his conscious and hitting at his heart.

He almost never regrets anything, maybe aside a couple tattoos, so it’s frustrating to say the least that he’s so torn up about this. He hates that he actually wants to fix this and maybe he might want to be her friend again, that’s if she’ll actually listen to him first. He regrets taking advantage of her kindness, allowing himself to indulge in the fact that she never once doubted him and always saw the best in him.

As he gets closer to the register, he feels someone behind him which shouldn’t bother him because hello, he’s in a grocery store but the familiar flutter in his stomach is hard to ignore. It makes him frown because of course the way they get to interact for the first time after the argument is in a grocery store of all places. He doesn’t look back even though he wants to, he’s trying to respect her space and not create a scene. He wants to do this right, and yelling at her is definitely not the way to go. He bites his cheek as he moves forward in line and tightens his grip on his basket.

He can’t smell her signature scent and it bothers him because he’s oh so sure that she’s right behind him. The feeling in his stomach says all he needs to know. He huffs when he’s finally at the self-checkout register and begins to check out his items. He takes his time checking out each item, dragging it slowly in hopes that the woman beside him will finish up so he can see Y/N one more time. He’s hoping to maybe make some small talk as they check out their grocery items, and soon enough the lady leaves and someone else takes her place.

This girl looks nothing like Y/N though, her face looks too thin and she’d never have bags underneath her puffy eyes. He knows Y/N would never go out without putting her best effort forward, and this girl looks like she has no care in the world. She kind of smells like her though, he could recognize that scent from a mile away, her perfume just faint enough to filter through his nose as if it attached itself to her clothes. There’s just something about the way she’s carrying herself, almost as if she’ll burst into tears at any moment.

His eyes gravitate towards her, watching as she scans her own items and sniffles softly. He takes in the way she’s dressed as if she just rolled out of bed; a plain white tank top paired with a cardigan and some sweatpants and hair thrown haphazardly into a bun at the top of her head. She looks miserable, as if she’s been having a bad day that’s lasted for weeks. He can’t help the pang in his chest as he watches her, his own groceries long forgotten.

He quickly shakes his head and continues scanning his items before paying for everything, stepping aside so the next person in line could use it. He doesn’t want to cause a scene or make this girl uncomfortable if it isn’t the girl haunting him and eating at his conscious. It doesn’t take too long for her to finish checking out as she grabs her bags and heads towards the front door. His legs immediately begin to move as he follows her.

“Excuse me? Excuse me, I’m sorry to bother you. Is your name Y/N by any chance? You just look familiar.” He says and she keeps her head forward. She refuses to acknowledge him and he’s almost convinced it’s not her.

His eyes trail over her frame and spots her tote bag, the same one that’s usually filled with textbooks and papers, is now lighter and seems to only be carrying a few items before she shoves some of the lighter items she bought into it. He’s determined now, determined to apologize and move forward. He’s determined to rid himself of his pride and acknowledge his mean behavior towards her.

“Y/N! Please. Just let me talk to you!” He follows her out of the store and towards her bike. He knows he doesn’t have much time before she’d be heading off down the street.

“C’mon, I’m trying to fix this. I really am sorry. Can you, fuck, just look at me at least? No? I’m sorry! I know I hurt you and I know I fucked up. Big time. I’m an asshole, I’m fucking selfish and I was jealous.” He almost wants to grab her hand or her arm, grab her just to make sure she won’t leave and make her listen.

She’s still walking, though it’s slowed down some as if she’s actually listening to him.

“I was jealous because you stayed at the top, you never lost your fire, that spark you had growing up. No matter what happened in life, you still gave all your effort and then some. I just wanted you to know how it felt and that’s fucking cruel. I should’ve talked to you, and I’m so fucking sorry for hurting you. You didn’t deserve any of this, and I… I really miss you, I miss the friendship we used to have, I miss us. You tutoring me was the closest we’ve gotten in years and I didn’t want to admit it but it felt nice. All the subtle references and to see that some things just haven’t changed. Please, just say something.” He all but begs her, and at this point he’s not ashamed to fall to his knees. His eyes burn as they fill with tears as he stares at the girl standing in front of him. She’s stopped talking sometime in his little speech, showing just the slightest interest in what he has to say.

He doesn’t know what to do, he’s never seen her so quiet before. He’s never seen her look so tired, so beat down and it only pains him to know he was the cause. He’s met with her silence and it scares him, he doesn’t know what to expect. The chilly air flows against their exposed skin and the sounds of cars honking fill their ears as he waits for a response. He hopes they’ll be able to move forward, she’ll forgive him and they could be friends like how they were years ago. He’s tired of pretending to dislike her, tired of the constant remarks and having to treat her the complete opposite of the way he wants to.

She stands still in front of the bike rack, her shoulders rising and falling with each breath she takes. The faint conversations from customers leaving and entering the store as they pass by fall on deaf ears. Their conversations don’t matter to the two people desperate to move forward. Harry sighs as one ringed hand runs through his hair, his frustration beginning to seep into his breath with every moment that passes of silence.

“Y/N, c’mon. I know you have something you want to say, scream at me, curse me out. I deserve it, I know I do. You deserve to be able do this, let it out. Say something, anything. I want to fix this, let me fix this. I can’t stand your silence, I fucked up. I need you to say something to me, I need you to talk to me lala. Tell me how to fix this.” His voice has begun to shake and quiver towards the end, sadness and guilt crashing over him as he speaks.

He knows he’s about to cry but he can’t bring himself to care, the only thing he cares about right now is fixing this. He won’t leave his spot until she agrees to talk it out, to properly hear him out. He stands still, his hands clasped in front of him as he plays with one of his rings to keep them from shaking, the tip of his nose beginning to turn into a soft shade of pink and his eyes fixed on her frame.

“C’mon honey. I’m sorry, okay? I know words don’t mean a lot especially seeing the way I treated you for so long, but I promise I’m gonna show you I mean it this time. Can you just at least look at me? You didn’t deserve this, I’ll accept whatever you wanna do. You deserve to treat me the way I treat you. I want you to blow up and go off on me, please just say something.” He sniffles and he watches as she begins to turn slowly.

He can’t look away no matter how bad it makes his chest hurt, his eyes rake over her face taking in every small detail. Her face is stained with tears and her eyes are red and puffy, she looks exhausted and he just wants to wrap her inside of his arms and hug her tightly. Her gaze is firm, set on his once she’s fully turned around but they don’t shine the way they used to when she looked at him. They aren’t filled with happiness, they’re filled with anger and a hint of sadness and it’s all directed towards him. She sniffles once before she takes a deep breath in, Harry braces for the spew of angry words that’ll fly his way but they never come. The only words that come out of her mouth are worse than any scream and insult she could say.

“I hate you, Harry.”

It’s the breaking point for him. The tears come flowing down his cheeks and his chest heaves. He shakes his head as if that’ll clear it from his brain but he sighs shakily.

“That’s fine, I’m sorry. I’m gonna fix this, I promise. I’d hate me too.” He turns around and makes his way to his car as her words bounce around in his memory. He lets the tears fall as he walks away, if he didn’t already feel like shit before - he definitely does now. He never realized just how important she is and how much he still cares about her, but he’s determined to make up for the years of torment he gave her.

*He’s gonna fix her and he’s gonna fix them.*

Harry’s made his decision to prove just how serious he is about fixing this mess he made. He’s mapped everything out, wrote down a list of everything he needs to do in order to prove his point. He’s researched online on how to win a girl back and he’s even gone to ask his closest friend Alex on what to do. The first day is simple, something small and simple. He figures the easiest way is to build up to the ‘grand finale’ as the people online call it.

He’s written out a little note on a piece of paper stating how sorry he is and he feels horrible, folding the piece of paper small enough to fit through the little slit in her locker. He’s wary of the few students lingering in the hall as it’s still pretty early and the bell hasn’t rung yet, he can almost feel their eyes following him because he’s actually here at school before noon. He can’t help the small flutter in his chest as he slides the paper in, the prospect of doing something so elementary in hopes of making things right and fixing them.

He sighs at the ridiculousness of his actions, doing something so silly just to get the girl’s attention. He can’t think about it too much, otherwise he’ll regret the entire plan and chicken out. He huffs as he runs his hands through his hair as he walks away, heading towards a spot close enough to watch everything happen. He finds a corner and chooses to lean against it and pulls out his phone. He wants to be as inconspicuous as possible, not wanting to draw attention to him and the oddly creepy behavior coming from someone who supposed to hate her.

He texts a couple people back, and scrolls through the seemingly endless posts of all of his social media’s to pass the time before she shows up. He’s anxious and excited all at once, fighting the battle of wanting to know how she’ll react and not even wanting to think of her reaction. Ultimately he knows he wants to see if he can get a small smile from his old friend, wants to know there’s still a chance for them. He knows he’s not gonna give up even the outcome is bad, if he’s not doing it for his own selfish sake, he wants to do it for her and Leya. He knows they both deserve to get back to their own form of normalcy, and he’d feel horrible if he’s the cause of them drifting apart.

The sound of his fellow schoolmates talking fills the halls as more people begin to fill the halls and soon he spots her, all dressed in a baby blue knee length dress he’s never seen before, white sandals and a white cardigan draped lazily over her shoulders. Even though she dresses like her, she still looks like a stranger. Her eyes lack the light and sparkle they normally do, eye bags have been beginning to form underneath her sad eyes, her hair that’s usually styled is once again thrown into a bun made with a lack of effort. He watches as she keeps her head as low as she can get it while still being able to see in front of her as she makes her way to her locker. His eyes are locked onto her and the butterflies begin to beat rapidly in his stomach from excitement, he finds it hard to stay still as he watches her.

His fingers begin to twist his rings around and he bites the inside of his cheek nervously, anxious to see her reaction to his note. She walks slowly and looks likes she’s about to curl into herself at any given moment and Harry can’t help the flare of anger towards himself for hurting her like this. His eyes never leave her as she gets closer and closer to the locker, the bright lights cast over her and makes her eye bags even more prominent and he watches her shoulders rise and fall as she takes a deep breath. The sound of the surrounding students walking through the halls and making conversation is barely a buzz in his ears, his only concern is making sure she reads the notes.

He watches as her fingers begin to twist the lock, inputting her combination in and to Harry it all seems to move in slow motion. The door to her locker opens slowly and he watches as her head follows the paper falling downwards. He watches as she takes a deep breath before she bends down slightly to pick it up. Her eyes scan the floor in attempts to find out who left the note, but move back down the paper when it’s fully unfolded.

Her eyes flit over the paper and he can see a furrow to form in between her eyebrows as she reads the note. His heart feels like it’s falling into his stomach when she shakes her head and folds the paper back, she’s gentle with the way she handles it. She grabs her books and sets them in her tote, closing the locker after she’s done and walking over to the trash can and releases the note over it, her eyes following the paper as it flutters down into the hole.

His heart feels like it’s being torn in half. He knew there was a high chance of this happening, that she’d want nothing to do with him anymore but seeing it happen right in front of his seems to be a type of hurt he could never prepare himself for. It’s devastating and almost, just almost might bring him to tears. She’s given him chance after chance to try and be better, but he just shrugged it off.

You can only take so much before the other runs out of things to give.

Weeks fly by and it’s the same cycle over and over again, Harry would do something to show he’s sorry and she wont even bat an eye. He’s begun to up his antics, all of his notes thrown in the trash and the small bouquet of flowers attached with a note scoffed at and thrown away as well. He figures the anonymous way of trying to win her back won’t do, he’ll just have to accept the hit to his reputation that’ll come with being seen with the girl he’s sworn to hate.

As she’s walking to class, Harry begins to jog to catch up with her. She’s dressed in a pair of leggings and an oversized sweater paired with her favorite pair of shoes today, a type of outfit he’s noticed she’s been sporting more often and he finds that he misses her getting all dolled up. If he’s being honest with himself, he just misses the way things were and the her he knew before he went and messed it all up. If he could, he would go back in time and just hand her the batteries and maybe things might’ve gone a little different.

Maybe he would’ve stayed close to the girl and built back their friendship, or maybe he would’ve realized his feelings for her and found a way to express them and start a budding relationship with her. Worst case scenario is that nothing would change except the change of heart he had, and they would keep the same interactions as usual. That would be better than the silent treatment and the way she makes him feel invisible with every discarded apology. There’s an emptiness in his chest that only seems to grow with every passing day that can only be filled with her sunshine.

He casually bumps into her shoulder, one that would be exchanged by close friends, before he clears his throat.

“You look comfy today.” The only thing he gets in response is silence from the girl, her head stays facing forward and not even a twitch forms on her face in acknowledgment of his commitment. The two of them dodge their way through the crowded halls as they continue to walk.

“I’m sorry. I really am, lala. If I could go back and fix this, I would.” Once again, she says nothing and he sighs softly before continuing to follow her.

He pulls out all stops for her, walks her to class, brings her small bouquets of her favorite flowers, buys her boxes of chocolates and begun to walk her home after she ignores his offer to take her home. After every good deed, it’s always the same response. She’s quiet and refuses to speak, her eyes tired and dull as if she’s staying up all night. He’s even ditched his old friends, started studying and paying attention in class - while the change wasn’t happen overnight, it was still enough to capture the attention of some of the teachers. He could hear this whisper in the halls and see the proud smiles on their face whenever he turns in the work or comes up to them after class to ask a question.

Even after all this change, the only person that he needs to see it is still ignoring him. She’s still stuck in the constant state of tiredness and heartache, but he has noticed that she tends to linger near her best friend whenever she can find her. His seemingly to be done for nothing, none of the praise matters if it’s not coming from her. He’s only doing this to get the acknowledgment from the only person that matters most to him right now. He follows her around like a lost puppy and just looks helpless.

“Y/N, I’m really sorry.” He begs her daily and it’s always the same response. She doesn’t speak, but the corners of her mouth begin to slightly curl upwards before she’s clearing her throat and any trace of a smile is wiped away.

He can’t tell how long he’s been begging the girl made of sunshine, but it’s been weeks and weeks of the same thing over and over again. He’s beginning to give up when one day, He hands her the chocolates and walks her to her home after school, and she smiles softly before turning towards him.

“Thank you, Harry.” Her voice rings through his ears and he bursts into a bright smile, one that would definitely hurt his cheeks afterwards but he doesn’t care.

“Y/N! You’re welcome! I missed you! I’m so sorry for everything, I’m sorry I was a proper dick, I feel so bad.” He rushes out and a small smile forms on her face, and her eyes begin to shine once more. Harry can feel his heart pounding in his chest as he returns her smile and hurriedly embraces her in his arms tightly.

“S’okay H. You’re cute, y’know that?” She says through a laugh.

“You really changed for me?” She asks and he nods happily.

“Told you, I’d do anything for you. I was determined to make it up to you.”

“Well, you’re not forgiven all the way yet, still gotta prove it to me, but I’m okay with moving forward slowly. You really hurt me and you should’ve been honest with me. As much as you deserve the hateful words and yelling, it’s not me. Stop breaking hearts, Harry.” He nods softly and clears his throat.

“You’re gonna be the last one I break and I promise I’ll fix it as much as I can. I missed you.”

As they walk into her home with soft smiles and the smallest hint of hesitation, Harry begins to explain everything from start to finish. She listens intently before wrapping him in a tight hug and tells him how much of a dumbass he truly is, and for the night.. it feels like they’re back in their childhood. Sharing smiles and laughing over nothing, the budding garden only begins to grow the longer they stay rooted on the couch talking as if the years of hatred and harsh words never happened.

Harry wished he would've talked to her sooner but deep down he knows it’ll never be the same as it once was.

hi everyone! hope you enjoyed this chapter, we are now done with this story! i’m willing write some blurbs and i might revisit and write an epilogue for them, i can’t bear to part with them just yet. let me know how you like it!

taglist: @witchywolfewood27 @ch3rry-styles @hillzrry @iamjustaholeforyousir @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @tenaciousperfectionunknown @zucchinimalfoy @missmielyhoran @daydreaming-laur @harrysgothicbitch @lovrave @kimmi-kat @jassesjo @harryscherri @mypolicemanharryyy @keepstillbecalm @peterbenjaminparke07 @lomlhstyles

what it is: YN is Harry’s personal assistant and she gets sick, but he’s playing Wembley

word count: 4k

The air is crisp and clean as YN steps out of her hotel into the streets of London, hurrying down the sidewalk as she scurries to the first pharmacy she can find. 

It’s 7.54 in the morning and she’s been awake for almost twenty-four hours. Not on purpose, obviously. And not on her boss’s orders either, despite having there been nights the team deemed important and she was required to pull an all nighter, but those were usually times of celebrations, either spent at an afterparty or waiting until midnight for Spotify to release the album everyone had been working hard on.

The air hurts her lungs as she stops to catch her breathing, the pounding behind her temples not dimming the slightest as she trespasses the sliding doors of the pharmacy, only intensifying with the bright artificial lights shining down on her from the ceiling.

She pulls her sunglasses out of the pocket of her sweatshirt and slides them over her eyes, relishing in the temporary relief washing over her sensitive eyes.

Her phone vibrates in her pocket and she pulls it out, grimacing at the name on the screen; it’s her boss, Harry, asking her what time she’s ready to leave for the venue. 

Once her turn comes, she quickly explains her symptoms to the pharmacist and just as quickly she pays for the medicine the pharmacist has taken out for her.

She walks out of the pharmacy and types back a short response to Harry, telling him she’s on her way to his room.

She hopes the medicine she has stuffed in her pocket will make her feel better, and she thinks as she’s making her way back to the hotel that she’ll ask Harry to stop along the way to grab a coffee, hoping it will soothe the tension behind her temples. There’s no way she can be sick when her boss is playing at Wembley for the first time.

…

Harry isn’t one to comment on other people’s appearances, his mum taught him that and it has stuck with him since he was a little kid, a sort of an unspoken rule out of kindness, and therefore he’s never asked if someone was sick because they weren’t wearing makeup or if someone had eaten a little more over the holidays.  He never considered other people’s looks something that concerned his range of business, but once he sees YN, he can’t help but wonder if she’s okay.

Her hair is tied in a messy braid, and there’s some strands falling out of it and in front of her eyes. She’s wearing a big love on tour sweatshirt and a pair of yoga pants, but that isn’t particularly concerning, because he’s used to her comfy articles of clothing. 

What’s concerning is her face… and Harry already feels bad for thinking that, but she doesn’t look like herself. And Harry would know. Of course he would know, because he spends a lot of time looking at her face, especially when she’s not looking, most of the times when she’s reading a book next to him in a moment of rest or when she’s answering emails on Monday mornings. So… he knows her. He knows her skin looks paler than normal, and the circles under her eyes aren’t the same as that one time they partied all night after Harry won album of the year at the Grammys.

He wants to ask if she’s okay, because after a year of working together they have that kind of confidence, but he doesn’t want that to be the first thing he says to her, so he just smiles at her and welcomes her with a side hug and a good morning.

“Hi” she’s quick to greet back, and Harry notices even her voice sounds scruffier than usual.

“Are you ready to go?” She asks a second later.

“Yeah, yeah, the car’s down already?” He asks surprised. Sometimes it takes a while before the drivers find the hotel, and YN and Harry spend that time watching videos on youtube or talking about the day’s schedule.

YN shrugs but doesn’t say anything in response, which is weird to Harry because she’s usually really bright and energetic in the morning, and she’s really meticulous on top of everything: she never lets him wait without finding something to pass the time first.

“Let’s just stay until we don’t know for certain” he suggests.

She agrees with a nod of her head and she heads to his bed, sitting down on the end of it. It’s not uncommon for her, because she’s always in his space, and there have been times where they were forced to basically sleep in the same bed (one time YN fell asleep on his bed, and Harry was so in his song-writing-bubble he didn’t even realize until he was so tired he couldn’t keep his eyes open, so he slipped in next to her and literally passed out).

He still needs to tie his shoes, so he sits next to her and ties the laces of his ratted vans.

“How’d yeh sleep, pet?” He asks, because she’s freakishly quiet and it’s making him anxious. She’s never quiet, and with this being a stressful day already for Harry, every little thing that’s different from normal alerts him.

“Fine” she whispers, knuckling at her eyes, his question bringing back the awful memory of the night she spent tossing and turning in the scratchy hotel sheets, praying for a moment of solace every time she tried to breathe through her nose and failing.

“Me too…” he nods.

YN feels bad because she should be more engaging, but she really doesn’t have it in her to make small talk. 

Some time passes before the driver calls YN’s phone to tell her the van is here, shaking her awake. She remembers closing her eyes to rest them, and next thing she knows she’s sound asleep on her boss’s bed. She’d be a bit embarrassed if it wasn’t for how awful she feels already. 

“Crap! I fell asleep!” She exclaims once she hangs up the call. 

“Yeah” Harry says from next to her, still laying on his bed, “just fo’ like… fifteen minutes though” He’s playing on his phone, and YN pushes at his bicep, “we need to go, driver’s here”

She gets up from the bed and slips on her shoes, grabbing her work bag (it’s really a tote bag but she finds calling it work bag makes her waaaay more professional) from the floor next to the door.

“YN” she hears Harry clear his voice, and she turns around to look at him.

He’s still sitting on the bed, and he passes a hand through his hair before saying, “are yeh all right?” 

She closes her eyes in a furrow and tries not to wince when a sharp pain shoots behind her eyes with the movement, “yes, yes” she stresses, although not convinced.

“Are you sure? C’mon yeh can tell me!” 

“I’m fine, Harry” and despite her words, she sniffles, “maybe I have a cold or something…”

“You can take the day off if you need to, yeh know that” 

“No, there’s no way” she shakes her head swiftly, “no”. 

“YN…” he trails off.

“Harry, I told you I’m fine. I can work! Let’s just go, okay?” 

He sighs but does as she says, following her out of his room.

Harry isn’t a worrier. If someone from his team, or band whatsoever, says they can work, he at least presumes they’re mature enough to know the expanse of their limits. 

With YN, it’s different. He worries.

Not because he considers her immature, but she’s just… different. Ever since she started working for him as his assistant, he’s always looked out for her, despite being the one that didn’t want to hire her in the first place.

She’s young, she works a lot to prove herself to him, despite him telling her lots of times she doesn’t need to prove anything and she’s doing a great job as she is. 

She does unthinkable working hours, sometimes pulling all nighters, other times hurrying to his house in the middle of the night because he’s a little bit of a hypochondriac and she needs to check immediately what’s that new mole he has on his back (turns out it was a speck of dark chocolate that stuck onto his skin).

She’s soft and she always puts her job (him, actually) first, so he doesn’t really trust her to know her limits. If she’s sick she should rest. She should lay in bed and maybe eat a little soup and watch comfort movies tucked under the sheets, but he knows she won’t. And he knows he’s the reason behind that, because he’s playing at Wembley tonight, and she doesn’t want to cause trouble. Harry thinks she in no way could ever be described as trouble. 

And maybe, and he feels a little bit scared to admit this, he could postpone the show just by a couple hours, at least until he knows she’s resting at the hotel. but, she hurries into the van and pretends like she’s just got “a cold or something”, so Harry doesn’t question her further. 

He could just order her to take the day off, but he knows that would hurt her feelings, and he can imagine the look on her face, like a puppy being scolded, so he bites his tongue: there’s no way he could ever hurt her feelings.

…

YN has to stop a couple of times when she starts feeling dizzy on her feet. She shouldn’t run this much when she’s probably feverish, but there’s so much to do! She doesn’t trust to delegate, and not because she’s pretentious, but because she’s a control freak that needs to know how things are being handled, so she would only get much more frustrated and it would eventually just end up in her doing all the work anyway, increasing her fever undoubtedly. 

So, she chugs downs a lot of water and a lot of ibuprofen, taking deep breaths every time she starts feeling nauseous. She should probably inform Harry at least that she doesn’t feel good, so if anything were to happen he wouldn’t be too surprised, but she knows how he is; he would demand she stop immediately and go back to the hotel to rest, and she can’t allow that to happen. 

Wembley is the dream of a lifetime, and Harry sound checks every song two times before passing on to the next one. YN sits quietly in one of the seats, preparing Harry’s next instagram post on her phone. She handles all of his socials, because that’s what she was originally hired for. “A young set of eyes”, Jeff had defined her, and from then, her life had changed completely. 

Of course, she wasn’t aware she’d develop a crush on her boss at the time she was hired. She figured she’d be immune to his charm; she’s younger than him, much less experienced (in every aspect of her life), and hasn’t really seen anything yet, so she thought they’d just be too different to get along. Spending each second of the day together didn’t help, though, because it was then she got to know Harry for who he truly was, and with that, came the awareness of how many things he’d lived through and how many things he could teach her. How soft he was with her, how he would always drape a blanket over her when she accidentally fell asleep on his bed, and how he would tell her she looked pretty even after pulling an all nighter and probably looking like a raccoon. That’s just how he was.

And that’s why she values his dreams more than her health. She would never do anything that could harm him, so she shrugs off the dreadful feeling off her back and keeps working. 

…

“Hey” Harry plops down on the couch next to her, draping his arm on the backrest of the couch. If he’d stretched his fingers he could touch her shoulder, but he doesn’t just yet. He knows she still doesn’t feel good, he can see it in the way she’s hugging herself in the Love on tour hoodie she has on (probably one of his because their laundry always gets mixed up).

“Hi” she says softly, her voice much lower than it’d been the last time he saw her.

It’s closer to show time now, but he’s still not in his outfit. YN wonders if that’s the reason why he came in the dressing room in the first place.

“What are yeh doin’ hidin’ in here all alone?” 

“‘m not hiding!” She pouts, “jus’… resting” 

“Mh, yeah?” He hums, turning his head to look at her, “restin’ your ears? Are you tired of my music yet?” He jokes.

“Never!” She beams, swatting at his chest playfully.

He lets his arm fall down on her shoulder, and he tugs at her, squeezing her against his chest.

She breaths him in, and despite her stuffy nose, she can smell the faint scent of his fabric softener. Musk and lavender. It’s the same as hers.

 “I’m sorry I’ve been a bit of a pain lately…” he trails off, his mouth buried in her hair, “nothing to do with you… was jus’ nervous is all”

She squeezes his hoodie between her fingers to tug him closer, “I’m really proud of you. You’ll do great.”

“Thanks, pet” he grins, breaking away from the hug.

She sniffles and he looks between her eyes warily, “’s there anything you want to tell me before I go on stage?”

“Jus’ to kick ass” she giggles, aware that wasn’t what he was alluding at.

“Mmmh” he muses, getting up from the couch. He knew she’d be stubborn about this so he doesn’t pressure her.

“Hav’to start gettin’ ready” he clears his throat, heading towards the portable hanger YN set up in his dressing room.

He then proceeds to take off his hoodie and his tank top, leaving him shirtless before her.

She’s seen him in his underwear many times, but maybe it’s the fever, maybe it’s the crush on him that’s growing stronger everyday, but she feels her insides get warm at the sight. 

He tugs his sweats down his legs too, kicking them off his feet, and YN pretends to pick up her phone to respond to a message that definitely could have waited. 

He picks up the heart printed overalls he’d be wearing and tugs them over his legs, jumping a little in his place so they could fit over his bum.

Once he’s fully dressed, he looks over at YN and finds her looking at him already, her eyes a little droopy. He feels his heart tug in his chest at the sight. He wishes she’d let him help her. If he could he’d send her back to the hotel straight away, but he has to admit he’s selfishly relishing in the idea of having her here, looking at him perform. It makes him want to do even better than he always does. 

“All ready then” he smiles, dimples denting both his cheeks.

“Mmhh” she hums, getting up on her feet. She walks towards him and adjusts the neck of his shirt, petting it down.

“Good luck Harry” she smiles. He has to refrain himself from lowering his head down to kiss her, and he’s aware these thoughts are way too unprofessional of him, but he can’t help himself. Not when she’s looking at him like that.

“See ya after the show, pet”

…

“Harry!” Jeff pats down on his shoulders as soon as Harry runs backstage, “you just smashed it! Fuckin’ smashed it mate!”

Harry laughs with him out of politeness, but his mind is really on something else.

“Fuckin’ Wembley, Harry! Wembley’s Harry’s house!” Someone else shouts, and he thinks it’s Lloyd but he doesn’t really pay much attention to him. There’s someone missing from the crowd. YN. She’s nowhere to be found, and he’d really like to celebrate with her. She’s the one that should join in on the fun and get a little bit of praise too, because without her, harry doesn’t think he could’ve played Wembley.

Everything was going fine, and he saw her next to his mother standing in the private part of the pit, but then, when he came back after chatting with a couple of fans, she was gone. He wonders if she’s okay.

“Hey, Jeff” he clears his throat, hoping to be discreet with his tone of voice, “where’s YN?” 

“Oh…” he nods, “she wasn’t feeling proper good, so I sent her to your dressing room. I told her to get back to the hotel, but she refused to leave”

Harry nods and after a ‘thanks’ he hurries towards his dressing room, hoping to find her there.

Once he opens the door, the sight of YN sleeping on the couch crouched on herself makes his heart somersault in his chest.

“Hey, pet” he coos softly once he crouches down next to her.

He repeats the endearing greeting, and this time she stirs awake. YN brings one hand to knuckle at her eyes tiredly, and Harry frowns at the sight of her bloodshot eyes. He brings one hand to caress her cheek, but when he realizes how warm she is, he brings it up to her forehead. She’s burning hot. 

He immediately feels guilty. He should’ve sent her back to the hotel as soon as he realized she was sick, hell, he shouldn’t have let her leave his room that morning!

“Harry?” She asks timidly, her voice coming out scruffy. She gulps but flinches as the hurt in her throat doesn’t subside. 

“Yeah, ’s me” he whispers, moving the hair away from her face, “let’s go back to the hotel, okay?” 

“No Harry! The show! You can’t leave… the show! It’s wembley” she stresses, gripping his bicep tightly to refrain him from leaving her.

“Shh, shh” he shushes her, “calm down. ’s okay. The show was great. Everything was great” he coos, pressing his lips down her forehead and flinching from how hot it feels, “you did so great”.

She sniffles and: “great?” 

“Yeah” he nods, reassuring her, “let’s go now, okay?”

He helps her get up on her feet, and she stumbles a bit in her place. She grips the fabric of his overalls tightly between her fingers, and he lets her, hoping to be at least a little bit of comfort.

…

“How are you feelin’? What hurts?” He asks her once they reach his hotel room (he wanted to go back to hers, but couldn’t find her key and didn’t want to startle her too much).

“Everything” she pouts.

“I’m so sorry, darling” he sighs, ushering her inside his room.

She’s stable on her feet now, the little nap at the venue kind of helped a bit in soothing her, but still, everything hurts, and the thought of being in a hotel room and not at her own house bothers her.

She also doesn’t want Harry to look at her like this, all sweaty and red in the cheeks. She must look so embarrassing! 

“I’ll draw you a bath, how about that?” He proposes, not waiting for her response and heading directly towards the bathroom.

Now that he thinks about it, harry’s glad she’s in his room, because (being the Harry Styles) his room has a bathtub, whereas hers doesn’t. He also has lots of salt baths and bubbles to add to the water, courtesy of the hotel, and he adds everything he can to soothe her stuffed nose and make the bath as pleasing as possible.

She knocks on the door delicately, and he turns his head to look at her.

“Bath’s ready” he smiles gently, and he dips his index finger to test the temperature of the water, careful not to make it too hot to not aggravate her fever any more. 

Harry excuses himself from the bathroom, and tells her to give him a shout if she needs anything.

It’s a couple of minutes later when he hears her calling for him, her voice still lower than normal.

He knocks on the door and after he gets her consent he opens it, peeking his head inside. She’s laying in the bathtub, the water submerging her almost to her neck, and he’s aware she’s naked under, but the bubbles cover her body entirely.

“Are yeh all right?” He asks worriedly.

“Mhmh,” she hums, “jus… keep me company?” 

He’s happy she’s more responsive now, and he happily sits at her side, plopping down on the toilet seat next to the tub.

They sit in silence for a while, Harry’s aware he’s still in his fancy (and uncomfortable) show clothes, but he doesn’t care. He’s just happy to dote on her now as she’s been doing with him since she’s been hired.

“I can’t believe you played at wembley and I missed half of it” she says after a while, the water sloshing around her as she turns to look at him.

“There’s always next time” he grins at her playfully.

She throws a smile at him, “bet”.

His mouth opens in a sideway smile, his dimple indenting only one of his cheeks, and more seriously than he did before, he says “I wish you’d told me you weren’t feelin’ good”

“Didn’t want to spoil your day” she shrugs.

He wants to tell her she wouldn’t have spoiled it, that if she’d asked he would’ve postponed his show and crawled in bed with her, cuddling her until she felt better, even with the risk of getting himself sick too, he didn’t care. He would have done anything to make her feel good; but how can he tell her? How can he be honest about something like that without revealing another part of himself to her? He’s her boss. He’s older than her. And he doesn’t know if she feels the same way.

So, instead of making a complete fool out of himself, he ushers her out of the tub, passing her a towel without looking at her. He engulfs her in the bathrobe and ties it tight on her stomach, careful to have her bits covered completely by the fabric of the towel.

When he reaches his room, he takes out a t-shirt and a pair of boxers for her to sleep in, and he leave her to change in the bathroom.

While he waits for her to come out, he texts his mum if she could make that delicious soup she always prepared when he was sick, promising he wasn’t sick himself and that he’d explain in the morning. His mum answers a couple of minutes later with a thumbs up and a kissy face. 

He locks his phone and plugs it in the charger next to the bed, leaving it on the bedside table.

When YN comes out of the bathroom, she looks better already. Her cheeks aren’t as red and her eyes appear to be more rested, but, she still looks tired, and he smiles at her as he tugs the comforter down for her to slip in.

She curls up under the covers and waits for Harry to tuck her in, “comfortable?” He asks.

She nods with her cheek against the pillow, “just wish I was home” she whispers and the affirmation pains him.

“I’ve been overworking yah, haven’t I?” He sighs deeply, feeling extremely guilty. 

She’s quick to shake her head no, flinching when a sting of pain hits her temples with the movement. 

“Yes I have… you’ve been s’good” he smiles down at her.

“You’re a Wembley player now” she whispers, her eyes closing on her as she speaks, and Harry chuckles endeared at her. 

“Get some rest” he coos, but she’s already fallen in a deep sleep that will probably be tainted with a curly headed guy with green eyes and a pretty smile.

He fishes from inside her bag a tab of ibuprofen and, with a glass of water, he places them on the bedside table closer to her side, so, if she’d ever were to wake up in pain, she could take the medicine immediately. 

He takes the shortest shower he’s ever taken, quickly putting on his pajamas and brushing his teeth. Once he’s ready for bed, he slips in next to her, leaning down to press his lips on her forehead to check her temperature. She’s still warm, but the bath seemed to be of help, and probably the much needed sleep, too.

He thinks he’ll give her the rest of the month off. He owes it to her, so she can get back up on her feet and spend some time at home if she’d like. He takes a minute to wonder why hasn’t he ever given her more than a day of rest, and he doesn’t have to wonder too much, because he knows the answer already, one that is overbearing and too deep to even analyze after the day he’s had: he doesn’t want to be away from her that much time. It’s as simple as that. He’s fucked.

hi! let me know if you liked this!!! this is my ko-fi if you'd like to support me and my writing, even a small donation is appreciated <3 love you all!

Hey! Where’s the sequel to Out of a dream? I really enjoyed this blurb and I’m really looking forward to it!!!

HI LOVELY!! it’s still currently in the making (yes i am so sorry it’s been months.) but it should be published around next week as i have a lot of times on my hands then!! thank you for tuning in! 💞

who in the fucking fuck made this show your face right fucking now OR ELSE🤺🤺🤺

running buddies

summary - you and harry go on a little run in london with each other

word count: ~-1.5k

pairing: long-term-boyfriend!harry x reader

“C’mon, y’lump. Get up.” Harry tugged the duvet off your body, whilst you groaned in annoyance. “We’re going on a run.”

That’s how your morning had started.

A rude awakening and a run.

You and Harry had hiked up a hill and then ran along the top of it. He used it as a way to expel all his anxious energy for performing at Wembley.

The headphones you were wearing were blasting out One Direction songs, since your favourite music to work out to was their music. Specifically the album Four.

The headphones you were wearing were blasting out One Direction songs, since your favourite music to work out to was their music. Specifically the album Four.

The view from the hill was gorgeous and you could see over London.

You stopped to take a moment and enjoy the view. You took out your phone and captured a photo of the view, with the beautiful scenery below.

A second later Harry came and jogged up to you, pulling out his earphones.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Yeah. Just admiring the view.” You panted out, not understanding how Harry wasn’t even remotely out of breathe after your 3km run so far.

“Normally I have you for that.” Harry winked at his poor excuse for flirting.

“Fuck off.”

Harry moved next to you and you held up your phone to take a photo of the both of you and the scenery behind. Harry’s cheek was smushed against yours and you both smiled wide as you viewed each other in the camera.

Harry looked at you and you took another photo, before he kissed your cheek and you took your last photo.

“Love you.” He spoke, before kissing your cheek again.

“Mm. Love you too, H.” You smiled at him, leaning in to give him a kiss.

His stubble had not been shaved this morning, so you got slightly scratched by the dusting of hairs over his jaw and upper lip.

You hummed into the kiss as you took pleasure out of kissing him.

It made the run worth it.

“Run in front of me on the way back down?” He asked.

“Why?” You furrowed your brows.

“Well… ‘Cause.. I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Harry Styles.” You cocked an eyebrow and pointed a finger onto his chest. He caught your finger and brought your hand up to his mouth so he could kiss your palm softly.

“Fine. I want to have a good view on the way back down.” He smirked. You couldn’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses, but you imagined they were slightly dilated.

“You’re so gross.” You pushed your hand onto his face and moved his head away from you jokingly.

“And yet you still want to marry me.”

“Steady on, my friend. You haven’t even asked the question yet.”

“Not when you’ve just friend zoned me.”

“H, baby. We’re so far out of the friend zone.”

“Are we now?” He teased, coming closer towards you again. You let him move close until his face is inches away from yours. His oxygen became your oxygen.

“Mhm.”

“So if I got down on one knee now…”

“Which you’re not.”

“How do you know?” Harry questioned with a giggle.

“Because you know that I’d hate this for a proposal. Instead I’d want to…”

“Be in bed after a night together and it to just be so random and so casual that it would be perfect.” Harry nodded. “Yes. I know you. I remember.”

“No friend of mine would know that.”

“Lucky me i’m not just your friend then.”

“You will be if you keep forcing me on these early morning runs though. Believe me.” You joked, turning around to walk down the path.

Before you can get far, Harry tugs on your elbow and whips you back around to face him. Your chest hit his and through your gasp, Harry captured your lips with his and roughly kissed you.

You moaned through the kiss and held onto him tight.

You moved your head to the side and kissed him from a different angle, kissing him like it’s your last time.

He pulled away and rested his forehead against yours.

“You’re never going to be just my friend, baby. Yes, you’re my best friend, but you’re also my girlfriend and soon to be fiancé. I promise you that.”

He was going to kiss you again when you saw some people walking up behind Harry.

One girl of them had a phone, which was obviously, not so subtly, recording the interaction. The other girl was walking up to Harry with a giant grin on her face.

“Excuse me? Hi. Are you Harry Styles?” The girl asked as if she didn’t already know.

“Yeah.” Harry cleared his throat, sort of standing in front of you because he hated the thought of you being filmed without consent because of him.

“I knew it! I love your music! We thought we saw you from down that hill, but were slightly unsure.”

So… they were following you.

You wouldn’t be surprised if they had been hiding and filmed you and Harry this entire day. Including the heavy making out.

Your hand slid into Harry’s to comfort him, knowing how uncomfortable he gets in these situations.

“Can we maybe get a photo?” The girl asked.

“Um. Not today sorry.” Harry replied and you squeezed his hand in assurance that he’d said the right thing.

“Oh okay.”

“Lovely to meet you though.” Not.

“Oh my God. And you too! This is crazy aha!” She walked back to her friend and they started squealing.

You tugged on Harry’s hand and motioned for him to follow you. You walked down the hill in front of him, knowing he wouldn’t allow you to walk behind him now that those girls were back there.

“Can we run again, baby? Please?” Harry asked from behind you and it was obvious he had gained some new nervous energy that he wanted to expel.

“Of course.” You smiled and began to jog again.

Harry matched your pace this time and before long you were back down at the bottom of the hill and far away from those girls.

More people might be on their way here though if they know that Harry’s been here.

Harry wasn’t going to risk it, so you walked back as quickly as you could back home.

Home came quicker than you thought, having passed the time with Harry with mindless games and random chat.

The comfort of home felt good. A similar feeling that Harry brought you.

When you were through the door, you hugged him tight with your face pressed against his chest.

“I love you.” You reminded him.

“I love you too.”

“And you don’t have to apologise for saying no to photos. Especially when those girls were following us. I don’t want your apology, okay? I just want you to be okay.”

“I’m always okay as long as I have my best friend with me.”

The 14 Little Things Harry Does During Sex ~Short Scenarios~ (SMUT)

Before reading this, please read through >>> 14 Little Things Harry Does During Sex (SMUT) first so this makes more since.

AN: this idea came to me mostly from this anon. i know your request wasn't exactly like this but i decided to just do all 14 of the things harry does during sex in little scenarios because why not. and i'm not doing it where harry points out y/n's little things in this because i'd like to make a list for her as well first to explain what her little things even are. feedback is always appreciated. thanks for this idea that i kinda stuck with.

This contains: lots of sex, lots of fluff

{ any!hary (boyfriend, husband, or dad) - soft!harry - 2018 Harry era }

word count: 2296

14 short scenarios of Harry doing the little things he does during sex with you.

1. Your legs are tangled together under the sheets as you have sex in the spooning position and you can feel Harry's bare toes begin to curl. That lets you know he's about to come. "Can feel your toes curling, baby."

"Yeah, can't help it. You make me feel too good." Harry responds though panted breaths and a sweaty face.

You reach around to place your hand on the back of his thigh to try and force him closer to you if that's even possible and mutter, "Didn't say you could help it. It was just an observation. I think it's really cute that your toes curl when you're abo...."

And you're cut off by you letting out a strangled moan because Harry has brought his fingers to around your front and is vigorously rubbing your clit.

2. The pace of his hips start to pick up out of no where from Harry getting carried away due to the tremendous amounts of pleasure he's receiving. The faster and harder thrusts have you gasping for air.

It felt good but it just wasn't the type of sex you were wanting in this moment. Harry quickly realizes what he's done and imidiantly starts slowing his hips back down. "Sorry 'bout that. Got carried away for a second there." he apologizes and bends down to place a pecked kiss on your sweaty forehead.

You look up and reply sweetly, "Its fine, babe. Just want to take it slow right now, okay? You can pound me when its not eight in the morning and I'm more awake."

Harry giggles and lays down on top of your body, continuing the slow, sleepy sex the way you intended to have it.

3. It's late at night and you're riding Harry's cock with your body fully laid on top of his. Harry has his arms wrapped around your back to hold you tightly and his hands start gliding over your back. His fingers gently trace up and down your spine, sending a shiver to run through your body.

Harry laughs a bit and asks, "Was that a shiver, love. You cold?"

You lift your head out from where it was in his sweaty neck and respond, "No, not cold. Your fingers dancing on my back made a shiver run through my body. Feels nice though. You can keep doing it if you'd like to."

Harry raises his head off his pillow a bit and with puckering lips places a quick kiss to your mouth. "Gotcha, my love. I'll keep tracing your spine if you want." And when you fall back down onto his chest while grinding on his dick back and forth, you feel Harry do just that.

4. As you're riding Harry on the couch in your living room, you notice his strained face. The one he makes when he's trying not to blow his load in you. So you decide to call him out on it.

With your hands pressed into his chest and your hips rocking back and forth, you question, "Babe, why the red face? Something wrong?" The tone in your voice is playful and he knows you're asking to be a little shit.

Looking up while still having that strained look on his face, Harry responds through shallow breaths, "You know damn well why I have this face. You keep clenching around m'dick and I'm trying not to bust a nut in yah just yet."

You laugh and fall forward, placing a kiss to the side of Harry's face and mutter, "I know. Just messing with you. Love you."

Attempting to relax his face, Harry coos back, "And I love you too."

5. Harry has his arms on both sides of your head, hands pressed into the mattress, as he holds his body weight up over you while fucking into you. But then he gets this idea. Harry carefully removes one hand from its place beside your head and brings it down to your stomach.

He lays it flat on the lower part of your heaving tummy and Harry can feel himself inside you, creating a cocky smile to be plastered on his face. "Can feel m'self inside you, love. Going so deep in your tummy. Can you feel me in your belly, baby?"

You nod your head, unable to speak clearly with how well he's fucking into you. Then suddenly Harry pressed down a bit on your lower stomach and it creates the pressure in your belly to be even greater then before. "Shit." you cry out.

Harry lifts up and sits on his calves, continuing to thrust into your wet pussy but makes sure to keep that one hand pressing into your stomach. Not too hard to where it would give you a tummy ache but enough to enhance your orgasm pleasure.

6. Harry is fully on top of your body, encasing you in his arms as he sluggishly rocks his hips in and out of yours. The room is dark due to the time of night it is and the covers are over your bodies. Then you feel it. Feel the three little taps to your collar bone.

Every time you have sex in the dark, Harry will tap somewhere on your body three times and you've yet to know what or why he does so. You decide to just ask. "Babe, um, can I ask why you tap your fingers on my skin when we have sex together in the dark?"

Harry stops his slow thrusts all together and sighs from embarrassment. He keeps his head laid on your shoulder so you can't see his face, though you wouldn't be able to anyways from this dark room, and answers shyly, "Don't know. Um, I guess I do it as a way to let you know you're safe and I'm right here. Sayin' it out loud just makes me sound stupid. Sorry if its weird."

You let a grin appear on your face and while running your fingers through his messy, curly locks, reply, "Babyyy, I think that's a very thoughtful idea and I love it. Don't mind at all and its not stupid. I'd very much like if you did it from now on and now I'll know why you do it and appreciate it more."

7. As Harry is hovering over your body, snapping his hips forward to meet yours, you lift one hand up and conjoin two fingers together. Harry knows exactly what you're trying to do and opens his mouth to take your fingers inside.

While his arms support his weight above you, Harry bends his arms at his elbows slightly to lean down and bob his head onto your fingers, as if it was a tiny dick. "Fuck, that's hot." you moan out as you watch him suck your fingers.

Harry lifts off them with a pop and says with glossy, wet lips, "Love sucking your fingers. Such a turn on f'me." Then you take your wet fingers and bring them down to rub your clit, making your eyes roll back from the clit stimulation mixed with Harry's cock fucking you.

8. With Harry thrusting his large cock inside of your pussy at just the right speed for you both, you begin to hear his little pleasure sounds as he pants them in your ear. The sounds that escape his mouth are a mix between a whine and a moan. "Yeah baby, keep making those pretty sounds for me. You sound so hot with your little moans." you tell.

"Mhm, love. God, couldn't stop em' if I tried. You feel so fuckin' good 'round me." Harry heaves out and then goes right back to making those little moans and cries of pleasure.

9. Harry is hovering above you with his hands grabbing at the headboard to give him better strength as he fucks into your pussy. You're in the midst of an orgasm but something gives you the strength to look up and when you do, you see the greatest sight known to man.

Harry has his eyes squeezed shut with his mouth wide open, forming an 'O' as his orgasm takes over his own body. His head is tilted back a bit and his arms shake as they stay straight forward, clutching the bars of the headboard. Knees pressed into the mattress beside your hips.

Seconds later when both your orgasms leave, Harry lets go of the headboard and carefully falls on top of your sweaty body, still out of breath. "Love your 'O face, Harry." you coo.

Inhaling a deep breath into his lungs, Harry questions "What'd yah mean my 'O face?"

"You know, how when you're coming you'll close your eyes and your mouth falls open wide. It's hot." you explain.

Harry sits up, straddling your lap, and replies, "Didn't realize I even do those things. I guess it just happens in the heat of the moment."

10. At first Harry was on top, thrusting into your pussy at just the right angle. It gave you a clear view of his chest and tummy. You noticed his stomach muscles fluttering as he tried to contain himself in order to not come prematurely.

But then when his arms feel like they are giving out, he has to gently fall forward and lay on top of your body, still thrusting into you. Then you feel Harry's stomach spasming against yours. "Your tummy feels weird against mine." you say, breaking the rooms silence besides the sounds of sex.

Staying in his position, Harry asks, "What? My stomach contractions you mean?"

"Yeah, and here, lets flip over. Want to ride you." Harry gets off top of you and rotates until he's laying on his back. You situate yourself on his dick again and look down, placing your hands on his flat tummy. "See," you speak and Harry cranes his neck down to look at his stomach, "it flutters nicely. Bet you'd eventually get abs if you did that long enough."

"Hey," Harry growls playfully, "I already have abs and you know it."

You laugh and reply with, "You're right." Then you fall forward and crash your lips to his, feeling his stomach against yours again as the sex continues.

11. Your legs are wrapped around his waist and Harry's on top of your body with his face pressed to the side of your sweaty face. Then you begin to hear Harry let out a string of different curse words into your ear. "Mother fuckin' shit. Jesus christ, babe. Mhm, damn it feels so good."

Knowing fully well what he's referring to, you ask anyways, "What feels good, babe?" as your nails dig into the skin of his back.

"Shit, shit, shit, that. That right there. You clenching 'round m'cock." Harry explains as you purposefully start clenching around his dick to get a reaction from him.

You only giggle but that doesn't last long because a loud moan escapes your mouth when he changes the angle of his hips slightly and hits your g-spot head on.

12. The sex you're having now was planned. Planned to the extent you knew days before it was happening and have candles lit around the bedroom with a towel under your bodies so your fluids don't dirty the bedding. Everything is slow and thought out. You did several minutes of foreplay before the sex even begun.

Now Harry has his hands on your shoulders as his knees are pressed into the bed beside your rib cage, thrusting meticulously into your tight cunt. But suddenly one of his hands abandons your shoulder and he places his sweaty palm above your right breast, directly where your heart lies.

You look up with love in your eyes and ask, "What's that for?"

Harry switches his vision from his hand on your heart to your eyes directly and responds, "Like feeling your heart beat. It's comforting to me in a way. Sorry if its weird."

"Babyyy," you speak softly, "come here." Harry removes his other hand from your shoulder and falls down onto your chest. He presses the side of his face right where he had his hand over your heart beat, now feeling your beating heart on the side of his face. "It's not weird, Harry. It's super heartwarming. Shows me how much you love me, yeah."

13. As you're bouncing on Harry's cock, you feel one of his hands leave your hip and when you open your eyes, you see him give himself a little scratch to his upper chest. A smile grows on your face and Harry notices. "What?" he questions.

You laugh and answer, "Just think its cute how you scratched your itch in the middle of sex."

This has Harry breaking into a laugh as well and he mutters, "Well yeah, had an itch and I wasn't going to ignore it the entire time."

14. You're having sex on the couch. Harry's above you and you're laying on your back, into the soft but firm cushions. But suddenly he stops moving his hips and you let out a whine to show your disapproval.

When you open your once closed eyes, you see Harry gathering his damp fringe that's fallen into his face with his hands and uses the hair elastic from his wrist to tie it into a bun so it's out of his face. "I know, I know. M'hurrying m'love. Just getting my hair out of my face because it kept tickling my nose."

Before you know it, he has the top of his hair into a little messy bun and his hips pick back up thrusting into your pussy. He looks very cute above you now with his little top knot but also equally just as sexy with his glistening chest on display.

------------------------------------

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND ITS FREE SO JUST DO IT)

tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @evanjh // @harryhoney-bee // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @elenagilbert01 // @bohogothic // @damnasstyles // @mrsstylesthings // @peaceandloverry // @softmullet // @meetmyblondemuffins // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles // @wherethehellhaveyoubeenharry // @stallrry // @skyangel57 // @harry-is-my-little-spoon // @the-gardener-31 // @harryspumkinloveslonghairstyles // @gublerscherry // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss // @kissmyaxe140 // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore1 // @florencepughily // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom

let me know if you'd like to be added on my tag list in my next post by telling me HERE (let me know if i forgot to add you)

______________

My Masterlist Masterpost

Found

Summary: An extra for Mine*

The one where your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has to put you in danger in order to keep you safe.

Word Count: 2.8k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞 You are so much more important!*

“Asher?”

Harry’s eyes find the floor, narrowing with a malicious vengeance.

It’s a look you know well, but never in relation to the aforementioned man. His partner, his second-in-command.

His friend.

You stand and make your way to him, wary of his demeanor as you gently outstretch your finger to his arm. “What’s wrong?”

He almost looks like he wants to flinch when you touch him, and your heart aches for whatever he’s fighting inside.

But then, he looks to you. He looks, and he wraps his arms around you, and he nearly yanks you into his chest.

Everything is him. Every scent, every sound, every feel. His muscles are rigid, and his breathing is shallow, and he’s cursing through gritted teeth.

He doesn’t let you go. Not for quite some time, and despite your attempts to rub his back in soothing circles, nothing calms him.

Finally, he pulls back to take hold of your face. He nuzzles his lips and nose into your forehead, and whispers, “I love you. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry I ever let them take you—”

“Harry,” you exhale, slipping yourself free of his hold so you can look him in the eye. “Don’t do that, we talked about this—”

“I don’t care,” he nearly growls. “I don’t care, I love you, and I never should have let them take you. You have no idea what they could have done—”

“Yes, I do. I was there.”

The reminder makes his expression drop. Skin paling almost as if the thought repulses him.

He moves to hold you again, and you let him, but you don’t wipe the stern look from your face. “Harry, what’s wrong? What’s going on? What’s wrong with Asher?”

He’s quiet for a long lull. Perhaps in an effort to prepare you or perhaps he’s simply trying to wrap his head around it himself.

“His comms are down,” Harry begins slowly. “And they found his tracker discarded a few miles outside of the warehouse.” 

You feel your heart leap into your throat. “What, um…what does that mean? Is he okay?”

That pensive look returns as he squeezes the back of your neck gently. “It means I have to do something I don’t want to.”

“Like…what?”

His eyes return to yours. A vibrant green that bleeds remorse as he dips down to run his lips along your temple lovingly. “I’m so sorry I ever put you in danger.”

Your heart sinks. “Harry—”

“I’m sorry that loving me causes you more pain than joy,” he whispers, and you can hear each ounce of guilt. “I’m sorry that my love comes with so many conditions—”

“Harry,” you try again, leaning back to take hold of his face and squeeze. “You’re scaring me. What’s going on with Asher, what do you have to do?”

He stares at you for a long while, a subtle red rim swimming beside his lashes. “I need to make a call,” he says shortly.

And with that, he pulls himself from your arms and disappears into the other room, the phone squeezed tightly in his hand.

You hear his heated conversation through the walls of the small apartment. Can’t decipher what he’s saying but you know he’s upset. And when he returns half an hour later, he’s wrought with frustration and regret. 

“Har?” you begin gently, cautiously watching from your spot in the tiny kitchen. “Are you…is everything okay?”

You know he won’t offer you an honest answer. He doesn’t particularly like sharing the details of his job with you. He claims it’s better if you don’t know. Safer. And maybe he’s right.

Or maybe he just wants to protect you any way he knows how.

He looks up and finds you. Frowns in the kind of way that has your soul sinking down to the cold, hardwood floor below as he strides over to you.

He takes your hands. Pulls you into his chest and traps you against his heart. Buries his lips into the crown of your head and whispers, “I love you,” for what feels like the hundredth time today.

You smile sadly. “I love you, too. But you’re really starting to scare me, Har. I just…I wanna make sure you’re okay.”

He leans back and captures your cheeks in his palms. Presses his love into your skin as he sucks in a sharp breath and murmurs, “Do you trust me?”

Your answer is instantaneous. “Yes.”

He seems relieved. He seems gutted. “And do you trust that I would never knowingly put you in danger? That I would do anything to ensure your safety?”

You swallow thickly. “Of course.”

He exhales shakily before dipping down to press his forehead to yours. “Do you trust that I love you? More than anything in the fucking world?”

There’s an odd feeling blooming in your chest yet you feel strangely calm. “Yes,” you tell him, nuzzling into his touch. “Always.”

He keeps his eyes closed. Doesn’t let you go as struggles through his next sentence. “Then I need you to do something for me, mama.”

“Anything.”

His features twist, as if it wounds him to hear you say it. “I need you to go sit down on that couch.”

Your lashes flutter as you slip your fingers around his wrists. 

“I need you to sit down, and I need you to wait,” he continues, in a tone so distraught, it makes your throat feel dry. “And I need you to trust that whatever happens next…is because I love you.”

Your breath hitches.

“I need you to trust that this is the only way.” His grip becomes tighter. “I need you…to trust me.”

Despite the countless warnings currently going off in your head, you nod quickly. “I do. I trust you, Har. I promise.”

The muscles in his jaw constrict, teeth scraping together as he stumbles over a wounded inhale. Then, he surges forward and presses his lips to yours. Over and over and over he kisses you. Mumbling, “I love you, sweet girl. More than anything in the whole fucking world. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

His anguish is evident. Body tense beneath your touch and chest heaving with grief. He’s moments away from allowing the tears to fall from his eyes, and it hurts you to see him in so much suffering. 

He kisses you until he has to rip himself away. Tearing himself out of your arms before turning on his heel to disappear into the next room, without so much as a glance back.

And you know it kills him to do it.

You look toward the living room, eyeing the couch warily while taking a deep breath. You do trust him. More than anything.

So, you sit. Take a seat on the center cushion and pull your knees to your chest in wait.

Minutes go by. Then an hour. Harry never returns. The entire apartment is silent. The sun is beginning to set behind the mountains he’s hidden you in, leaving you to wonder in the darkness.

And then…a sound. The first sound in forever. The murmuring of hushed voices and the shimmying of a lock.

The front door opens. Three figures creep into the room, dressed in all black. It’s an instant wave of déjà vu, reminding you of only a few days ago when you were taken the first time.

You want to hide. Want to scream in protest. Want to call out to the man you love and have him protect you.

But he knows they’re here.

And he wants them to take you.

Maybe you don’t know why. Maybe you should be wildly confused and insanely terrified.

But you’re not. You trust him. And as the three shadows find you on the couch, you exhale a deep breath, and allow yourself to be approached.

You play up your terror. Figuring it’s better to give them a little fight so they don’t suspect your compliance.

You gasp and you whimper, and you attempt to squirm away as they crowd you. But only one man kneels to the floor in front of your feet, pressing a large, glove-covered palm to your mouth.

You suck in a shaky pant as his eyes find yours through the mask he wears to hide his face.

And those eyes.

You’d know those eyes anywhere. As soft and reassuring as the touch against your lips. He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t call you by that familiar nickname or attempt to comfort you.

But you know him.

You aren’t sure why he’s here. Aren’t sure why he’s with them, but Harry must know. And if he’s allowing him to take you…it must be for a reason.

Things work quicker from there. They bind your hands before one of them throws you over their shoulder. They take you from your place of safety and toss you into a van. They don’t speak to you, they don’t look at you, they don’t even sit near you.

Everything is cold and dark. Far too quiet and somewhat unnerving. You drive for what feels like hours before the car finally stops and you’re removed from your prison.

You’re brought into a different warehouse this time. Smaller. Fuller. There are guards crawling in every corner of the room. Guns, grenades, and various weapons litter the walls and tables. It smells like cigars and bad decisions.

And just before you can allow yourself to doubt Harry’s intentions, you’re brought into a large office.

And sat in front of the one man Harry fears the most.

Callahan Matthews. 

 You’ve seen his face enough times to recognize it now. The way it leers at you. The way it smiles behind the cigar placed between his strangely white teeth. The way he gestures for you get comfortable as the office door shuts firmly.

“Well, well, well,” he begins in a sadistic croon, leaning back in his seat to study you. “How nice to finally meet you.”

You feel your blood run cold as you stare back, offering nothing more than an unamused frown.

Matthews glances toward the guard that brought you in. “Was she any trouble?”

“Not at all,” the man replies, the familiar voice sending chills down your spine as he slips off his mask to reveal his face.

Asher.

“She never is,” he adds, the corner of his mouth curling up in a cruel display of agreement. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

 Your fingers grip the armrests beside you, chest heaving as you work to remind yourself of why you’re here.

Your confusion and betrayal makes both men grin. “And Styles?” Matthews asks. “Where is he?”

“He was at the apartment,” Asher tells him, and you feel your head begin to pound. “We left him be, just like you asked.”

“Good.” Matthews crosses his arms over his chest. “You think he’ll come for her?”

“I know he will. He’ll give you anything you want to keep her pretty little head on her pretty little neck.”

The larger man laughs, pulling the cigar from his mouth. “And isn’t that just a shame? A man with so much power brought to his knees by something so pathetic.”

“Incredibly so,” Asher agrees, allowing his focus to drift back down to you. “Don’t you think?”

You toss him a bitter glare. “Bite me.”

Asher hums. “Haven’t I already?” he murmurs, leaning down and forcing you to rear back. His smug condescension more than evident. “Unless you want to beg me to do it again?”

Matthews smirks. “Perhaps if he’d spent more time questioning the men he allowed into his home—into his girlfriend…he’d have found his supposed mole.”

“Harry trusts too easily,” Asher declares, finally straightening up and allowing you to breathe. “Always has. It makes him incredibly weak.”

“And incompetent.” Matthews rakes his gaze over your tense figure. “Can’t imagine what she sees in him.”

“She sees what he wants her to see,” Asher says. “If he tells her he loves her, she believes it. If he tells her she’s safe, she believes it. If he tells her she loves him…she’ll believe it. All he has to do is convince her that she’s being saved, and she’ll do anything he wants.”

It’s the lowest of blows. Coming from the man who watched your relationship bloom from the very beginning. Who was there through every fight, every miscommunication, every moment of realization. 

He knows the two of you better than anybody else does.

And if this is truly how he feels…

The office door slams open. Four men wrestle through the frame, pulling a struggling man in their grasp.

Harry.

You see him out of your peripheral. See the blood around his cheeks, the bruises already darkening in color, and the ripped fabric on his chest. 

You feel sick. Distraught beyond measure and when his eyes find yours, tears begin slipping down your cheeks.

He’s shoved onto his knees as Matthews stands from behind his desk. Asher remains to the side, watching as a gun is pressed into the temple of his friend’s head.

He says nothing. Shows no remorse or acknowledgement of such cruelty. 

His indifference is infuriating.

“Suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” Matthews begins as one of the guards weaves their fingers through Harry’s hair and yanks his head back. “But I am a little disappointed.”

Harry remains quiet. Breathing heavily between gritted teeth as he stares daggers through the man approaching. 

“I was hoping for a little more of a fight,” the man admits. “Perhaps even a reason to respect you before I kill you. But I see you lose your edge where she’s concerned.”

Your nails scrape down the chair. Desperately wanting to run to him. To throw your body in front of his and shield him from the weapon you can already see Asher slipping from his belt.

“It’s a shame she has to watch the great Harry Styles die in such a trivial way,” he tsks, hand outstretching for the gun Asher is offering to him. “But I suppose that’s what you get…for thinking you were strong enough to save her.”

The sound of a bullet ripping through the air reaches you before the realization does.

The weapon has been fired. A body is hitting the floor and you’re ready to scream as a smattering of blood streaks across your cheek.

With a wounded, heavy, and unmendable heart, you find the man you love. Needing to see him one last time.

But Harry is still kneeling on the floor. Exactly the way he was before, now covered in a few extra drops of blood.

That aren’t his.

You turn and look for the answer. 

You find it with Asher.

The gun is raised and pointed toward the large man responsible for so much pain and destruction. You see the bullet through his skull as his lifeless body splays across the ground. A pool of blood collecting around his head.

Smoke wafts from the barrel as Asher stares calmly and stoically before he turns his attention and his weapon toward the other four in the room.

“You touch her…or you touch him,” he begins in a threatening murmur, eyebrow raised and ready for any defiance, “and I will make sure there’s enough room in the ground for your bodies, too.”

A moment of silence dances between the walls.

And then, for the second time in twenty-four hours, you’re forced to watch a sea of bullets fly through the air.

You aren’t sure who fires first. Aren’t sure where the danger lies. But you are sure of the way you lunge yourself at Harry’s body to pull him out of harm’s way.

His arms wrap around your torso as you both roll into the corner, just behind the desk. The sound of more gunshots echoes in from the rest of the warehouse as you make the connection that Harry’s men have arrived.

Your ears are ringing. Your chest is pounding. So much violence and strife is happening all around you. And you can do nothing but bury your face in Harry’s chest and will it to be over.

And through all the chaos, you hear him whisper, “I’m so fucking sorry. I had to. I had to let them take you, I’m so fucking sorry. Never let them take you again. I love you. I’m so fucking sorry.”

You aren’t sure when it finally stops. At least in this room. Aren’t sure when the ricocheting of bullets comes to an end. But you do eventually feel Harry lift up to survey the damage and make sure the coast is clear.

The resonating terror is pounding inside your head, but you do your best to follow him out from behind the table. Clutching onto his hand as he leads you into the main part of the office where you find an array of dead bodies and blood dispersed across the walls and floor. 

And just when you feel the first rush of relief in what feels like weeks…you find one more body in the corner of the room.

With a bullet hole right through his chest.

Asher.

Wow, now that's two parts where we end with his name said all dramatically, it's almost like he's the main character??? OOPS??? 🙃 I LOVE YOU ALL, THANK YOU FOR READING AND WAITING AND BEING SO NICE TO ME😭💞

Previous Part:

~ Lost (A Mine Extra)

~ Full Mine Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Taglist (If you ever need or want to be taken off, or simply excluded from certain fics like this one, please let me know!! 💞) : @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @acesofspadess @stylesfever @narry-heart @virginvirgo @pagesfalling @creativelyeva @char112244 @snwells @armystay89 @oh-my-hecky-padalecki

i smiled

sharing a bed

summary: harry and y/n share a bed. it’s not always great. 

warnings: coarse language

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

•••

“Ow, fuck. Ouch, wow.”

“What the hell happened to you?” Y/N said groggily, sitting up a little whilst rubbing one of her eyes, seeing Harry curled up on the floor next to the bed. He grasped the edge of the bed and got back up, sitting down with an unamused look on his face. 

“You pushed me off.”

“How could I have pushed you off?”

“I don’t know! Why else would I be on the floor?”

“You’re, like, a six-foot tall, muscled up man, how could I push you off the bed?”

“Well, I wasn’t sleeping on the floor, that’s for sure.”

Y/N flashed him a sleepy smile, grasping his shoulder and pulling him back down onto the bed, shuffling to get comfortable once more. Harry let out a small, dramatic huff as he got in bed next to her, pulling her close and burying his face in her neck, giving her a small kiss there. Y/N pressed her cold feet against Harry’s legs, something he had gotten used to after sharing a bed with her for so long, keeping his legs tangled with hers so they could be even more tangled in the morning. 

“I’m pushing you off next time.” He mumbled.

“Shut up, go to sleep.”

a/n: thought of nerdrry while writing this, so nerdrry!

🏷: @crow-i-guess, @planetflos, @harrycanyonmoonn, @bxtchboy69, @sweet-as-lilacs, @lyricalniall, @venusincleo (couldn’t tag you!), @bxbun111, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @emispleased, @goldenhrry, @cinnamongirlrry, @manifestrry, @sadqn1, @judesgfirl, @taylorsreputationsversion, @violetsandfluff, @phoebebridgersforqueen, @a-strange-familiar, @moonlightbea-33 (couldn’t tag you!), @famedrs-blog, @coochiesteak, @blahblahblah-888 (couldn’t tag you!), @milesisntdonewritingyet, @harrysgoth, @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite, @cinnamonlola, @youcan-nolonger-run, @velvetrylie, @vamprry, @ellie-luvsfics, @gorlsinmultifandoms, @littlenatilda

Okay boyfriend 🫠🫠🫠🫠

haircuts…

summary: harry got a haircut, y/n isn’t pleased. 

warnings: none. 

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

•••

“Sex with you just isn’t the same anymore.”

Harry and Y/N were in bed, watching Venom on the TV, all snuggled up against each other. They just had sex, although already cleaned up. Harry was shirtless and wearing sweatpants while Y/N had one of Harry’s shirts on along with panties, her head resting against his bicep. Eddie Brock was having dinner with Anne while Venom was making fun of him. 

“It’s a haircut!”

Y/N shrugged and reached over to grab a piece of popcorn from the bowl on Harry’s lap, popping it into her mouth. 

“Don’t care.”

“Baby, look at me.”

“No, your hair’s too short. You’re practically… bald.”

Harry rolled his eyes, throwing a piece of popcorn at her. 

“Excuse you.” She gasped and sat up, appalled. She looked offended and her mouth was open, while Harry had a smile on his face, soft craters in his soft cheeks. He popped another piece of popcorn into her open mouth. 

“You called me bald.”

“Because that’s what you are.” She retorted, bringing both hands to run through his hair, moving them upwards to watch the short strands slip past her fingers. She already missed his hair that had grown out because he just never found the time or desire to get a haircut. Except for now, apparently, and he didn’t even tell her. Rude.

“It’s just so short.” She frowned, grasping his face while lightly squishing his cheeks together as he chewed on popcorn. 

“It’ll grow back?”

“And that takes time, H. You think I wanna wait that long?”

a/n: i ❤️ venom

🏷: @crow-i-guess, @planetflos, @harrycanyonmoonn, @bxtchboy69, @sweet-as-lilacs, @lyricalniall, @venusincleo (couldn’t tag you!), @bxbun111, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @emispleased, @goldenhrry, @cinnamongirlrry, @manifestrry, @sadqn1, @judesgfirl, @taylorsreputationsversion, @violetsandfluff, @phoebebridgersforqueen, @a-strange-familiar, @moonlightbea-33 (couldn’t tag you!), @famedrs-blog, @coochiesteak, @blahblahblah-888 (couldn’t tag you!), @milesisntdonewritingyet, @harrysgoth, @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite, @cinnamonlola, @youcan-nolonger-run, @velvetrylie, @vamprry, @ellie-luvsfics, @gorlsinmultifandoms, @littlenatilda, @straightontilmornin