That Makes Four.
that makes four.
PART 8 - playlist
You fiddled with the bracelet on your wrist, tugged at an earring and smiled when a group of unfamiliar faces passed by. Jeff’s birthday parties were always well attended, but this year felt different since you knew you would--and planned to--bump into Harry.
You sipped on the drink in hand--vodka with soda and some kind of juice mixed in by the bartender who complimented your necklace.
Now, in the upstairs private dining room at a restaurant in Malibu, you ignored the face Tristan made when he took a sip of his own concoction. “This has too much grapefruit juice--do you want to switch?”
“Sure,” you pushed yours forward and swapped, already taking a sip when Tristan eyed you suspiciously.
“Wait, don’t you hate grapefruit?”
“I don’t care,” you shrugged, another scan of the crowd. He wasn’t here--at least, not yet. Tristan cleared his throat and let out a sigh.
“Okay, is this how the whole night is going to be? You just anxiously waiting to confess your love?”
“I’m not going to confess my love,” you clarified. “I’m just going to chat with him, see how he’s doing and if his house is finished. Take the temperature, y’know.”
Everyone had pretty much stayed out of it. Even Jeff, for the most part. Aside from showing up in your kitchen with a bag of donuts to bribe your kids, he’d left you alone and didn’t pester you over and over about making a big mistake.
You could admit it now, partially, when you were alone at night wondering if you’d grow old in this house and be single forever. You could admit it when you drove to the office and wished there was someone to come home to, someone who’d cook dinner, and listen to how annoying Tristan had been in the afternoon meetings or at events like this.
In the back of your head it was a truth you’d always known: life with Harry in it was better than any alternative.
But now you could admit it.
Which is why your heart dropped to the floor when you saw him hug someone on the other side of the room in greeting, Tristan pulled you by the shoulder behind a wall and you both peered around the corner, watched as he found Jeff and clapped him on the shoulder in celebration.
Was it childish? Was your hardcore crush that had somehow turned into more a complete waste of time? Maybe. You’d been telling yourself for so long that nothing could ever come of sex with someone eight years younger that you didn’t even give enough room for the possibility to breathe and potentially flourish.
“I’m going to need another drink before I have to face him.”
Tristan laughed. “So are we going to hide over here until that happens?”
“Maybe,” you shrugged. “But you can go get me another one to make me chill the fuck out.”
“Do you parent your children with that mouth?” he teased, taking your almost drink.
You nudged Tristan toward the bar and kept watch, Harry mingled with people you knew and some you didn’t--made his way around the room and up to the bar twice. You wondered if he’d meant all of the sweet things he said: I wanted to defend you, I’ve been waiting for this to happen.
If you’d known back then how you felt now--alone, sad, and filled with regret--you would have played your cards differently. But how were you supposed to know that something like this, something unexpected and strange would feel so right and could actually be what you needed?
After you finished the drink that Tristan returned with, you smoothed out the dress you were wearing and asked: “anything in my teeth?”
“No, but you look like an angry chihuahua.”
“Funny. Okay--if I look like I’m failing, come intervene and pretend to be super drunk or something.”
“I will not be doing that.”
“Okay,” you nodded, knowing it would be a tough sell. “Wish me luck.”
“Be brave!”
You elbowed into the crowd and snuck by groups of people, mumbled apologies as you tried to keep a new drink from spilling over the sides. He was with Jeff, a cocktail in hand when you came up behind him. Jeff’s eyes landed on you and then he tried to cut Harry off.
“Harry--”
“I just think it’s a bad idea, you know?”
Jeff’s eyes were wide when he greeted you. “Y/N--hi, we were just talking about the album.”
“Hi,” you bit out, forced a smile and tried to ignore the anxiety that buzzed down your spine.
They were talking about you, right? That level of intensity in Jeff’s eyes used to be reserved for nights when you’d snuck vodka from his parent’s liquor cabinet and now one of them came home earlier than expected.
You swallowed, wondered for a second if you should turn around and leave, grab Tristan and head for the door and hope you never had to see him again. “Sorry, I’m interrupting, I guess.”
“No,” Harry shook his head, stepped aside to let you move closer. “We were just talking business. How are you? I didn’t know if you’d come tonight.”
You didn’t know what to say to that, blinked a few times in confusion. You knew Jeff first--he was arguably your friend and Harry’s manager. If anyone was going to have claim over Jeff, it was you. You had thirty-two years of proof to back that up.
Jeff could sense this, he laughed a little and offered you a sarcastic grin. “Of course she’s here--she’s the sister I never wanted.”
You faked a laugh in his direction but then looked back at Harry, who’s eyes were glued to yours like his life depended on it.
Jeff nodded at his failed joke and the tension in the air, took a sip of his drink and looked between the two of you.
“Could Harry and I maybe talk for a minute, Jeff?”
He widened his eyes, wrinkled his forehead in surprise but then nodded quickly. “Yeah, sure--I’ll just--I’ll be over there.”
He hurried away, looked over his shoulder when Harry pursed his lips in a firm line and tried not to laugh at Jeff’s awkwardness.
“Hi,” you said quickly.
“Hi,” he smiled a bit. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“First time we’ve been at the same party, after all these years.”
He furrowed his brow. “M’starting to think Jeff was purposely keeping us apart.”
“That would explain a lot,” you laughed. “How are you?”
“Good,” he nodded. “How are you?”
“Also good,” you lied. “Yeah--busy, you know. The girls have a lot of extracurriculars but--”
It felt strange, interacting with him without the interruption of hands grabbing for snacks before dinner or pleading questions to stay up later and watch TV. He seemed to watch you closely, his lips set in a firm line when you trailed off.
“Right, is the body wash doing well?”
“Great, yeah, sales are through the roof,” you lifted your hand to gesture along with your words, then immediately felt stupid when he let out a tiny laugh that made your heart swell and break in the same moment. You had to spit it out, take a leap of faith and hope that you wouldn’t crash to the ground in failure.
“But, I actually just wanted to let you know--”
Of course--with your luck and your karma and apparently the entire universe now conspiring against you and Harry--someone put a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey!” he turned to greet them, clearly excited and surprised. “Oh my god, I didn’t know you were coming!”
A man and woman, around your age, fancy clothes. They both hugged him, smiled apologetically at you when he angled his shoulders to face them and ask a thousand questions: when did you get to LA, how long will you be here, are you free for dinner this week?
You shifted on your feet uncomfortably and this prompted Harry to snap back to reality. “Sorry, Y/N, these are my friends Percy and Lillian,” he turned back to them. “You guys should go get drinks, the bartender is amazing.”
They nodded, moved in that direction when he called after them. “Get me another, just a sex on the beach.”
You pulled your head back and eyed him. “You drink sex on the beach?”
He laughed and looked back down at you, “I love peach schnapps--but, sorry, that was rude of me--you were going to say something?”
“Right,” you nodded, wind gone from your sails as you rerouted. “I just wanted to let you know that CeCe’s ballet recital is coming up. She’s been begging for you to come. I can text you the details?”
“Oh, right!” He smiled. “Yeah, text me, I’ll definitely be there. And I’m still good to do dinner with them this week if they’re up for it?”
“Oh, they’re up for it,” you admitted.
“And CeCe’s birthday is Thursday, right?”
“Right.”
“Great,” he leaned in and kissed you on the cheek, the Brit in him slipping out before he stammered. “Sorry--I just--I should go catch up with them.”
He rushed off at that, smiling when he rejoined his friends by the bar, completely unaware of the awkward conversation he’d just narrowly missed. Tristan, whose lips were wrapped around a paper straw, sidled up beside you with a disapproving look on his face.
“I can’t hear anything over the noise in here but I’m going to guess you didn’t actually tell him how you feel.”
“No,” you shrugged, “of course not. He and Jeff were definitely talking about me when I walked up and so that was weird and Harry said something about it being a bad idea. And then I was going to but those people showed up and then I panic-invited him to CeCe’s ballet recital!”
“Where Luke is supposed to be?”
“Where Luke is supposed to be,” you confirmed. “Because I’m a fucking idiot.”
“You’re not an idiot,” he frowned. “But that definitely just created more stress for you.”
“I know, it was dumb but I haven’t had more than one glass of wine in a few weeks and now I just think I should go home.”
“Boo,” he frowned. “Don’t be a party pooper. Have another drink and judge people with me.”
“I can’t even enjoy that right now because I’m so stupid.”
“Oh my god,” Tristan groaned. “Just go interrupt and tell him you love him or something!”
“You what?” Jeff was behind you when you turned around quickly.
“Nothing,” you shook your head, another sip to drown out his laughter on the other side of the room.
“You love him?”
“Why’d you ask what if you heard her?” Tristan made a face.
Jeff was serious, though, he wasn’t taking any bait. “Y/N, are you in love with him?”
You let out a groan and stomped a foot on the ground. Maybe it was the alcohol or the close proximity to someone you didn’t want to love, but you whined and answered him. “I don’t know, Jeffrey, okay? Now is not the time to discuss all of this.”
“You have to tell him that.”
“Yeah, well, why do you think I asked you to give us some time to talk?”
He pointed a finger to the floor. “You were going to tell him here?”
You rolled your eyes at all of his questions, and apparently, his shock at this discovery. “No, I don’t know. I was just going to see if he missed us or something, I don’t know!”
“Oh, he misses you,” Jeff nodded with confidence.
“Well whoever those people are showed up,” you gestured in their direction, threw your chin towards the girl who had better eyebrows than you and a smile as wide as the Mississippi. “Kind of interrupted.”
Jeff looked over and nodded, hands on his hips when he let out another breath, apparently still taking all of it in.
“Wait--speaking of interrupting, what was he saying when I came over? You did that whole wide-eyed shut the fuck up look you used to do when your mom would walk in the room.”
He sipped his drink casually when he recalled the moment. “It was nothing.”
“Bullshit.”
“It was nothing, Y/N!”
“He said something was a bad idea.”
“Yeah, music shit.”
“Or Y/N shit?” Tristan challenged, a flick to Jeffrey’s shoulder with his free hand.
Jeff rolled his eyes at both of you. “How many drinks have you people had?”
“Enough to handle being in the same room with him right now.”
“Wow,” Jeff nodded, unimpressed. “You really do love him.”
You smacked him in the chest playfully and ignored his statement. “Are you going to tell me what you were saying about me?”
“Oh my god,” he complained, a grand gesture to let you know just how annoying you were. “He just said that it feels really weird to not live with you guys--I told him to tell you that and he said he thinks that’s a bad idea. But then you interrupted us, so that’s all the intel I have.”
“See?” You turned to Tristan, “I knew this was all stupid. I would have told him that I miss him and he would have shot me down.”
“You don’t know that,” Jeff held up his hand.
“Then why did he say it would be a bad idea?”
He shook his head in disbelief, made a face like you were stupid. “Maybe you don’t know this, Y/N, but he was really hurt when you asked him to move out. I’ve seen him break up with people before but--that rocked his world.”
Jeff referenced the event like it was a distant memory, like it was more than two weeks that now stood between you and the fateful launch party.
“Well he hurt me when he was late and didn’t tell me. I don’t want to live my life always wondering if he’ll show up--I already did that with Luke.”
“He’s not Luke,” Jeff said seriously, his demeanor suddenly shifting. “But if you’re going to treat him like he is, then nothing will ever work between you two.”
You shrunk back, even in a half-drunk state you could tell you’d struck a nerve in Jeff. Tristan sipped at his drink again and the silence between the three of you felt deafening.
“I just think you need to be honest with him. If you have feelings for him, tell him.”
“That was the plan tonight,” you admitted. “Maybe it will work some other day.”
“Well you need to figure something out soon. I’m sick of both of you being so scared to admit it to the other.”
“You’re filling in the blanks for him,” you reminded. “He said it was a bad idea.”
“Because he doesn’t want to get hurt again,” Jeff nodded.
“Well neither do I!”
He slung an arm around your shoulder and let out a deep breath, shedding the anger that had previously laced his voice. “I know. Shockingly enough you both want the same thing and are afraid of the same thing. But one of you has to be brave enough to take the risk.”
Tristan tossed back the rest of his drink at that, when both you and Jeff looked over to him with amusement, he shrugged. “I need to be drunker if we’re going to keep talking about all of this deep shit.”
**
CeCe turning seven made you feel ancient. So ancient, in fact, that you woke up Thursday morning with a splitting headache and a sore back. The alcohol from Jeff’s birthday probably took a few days to work itself out of your body, so you spent the first half of the week drinking your bodyweight in water and popping advil.
You weren't sure what you’d done to deserve it, but CeCe’s birthday request was simple: bring a friend to a trampoline park, with Harry, no mom.
At first you were sad. She didn’t want to spend time with you? Was Maeve’s pre-pubescent attitude rubbing off on her at the ripe age of seven?
But then, when she screamed at her sister the night before because she was wearing purple which meant Maeve couldn’t wear purple, you were glad to have the night to yourself and even more glad to dump their bickering on Harry. If he was so keen on being in their lives, he’d get all of it: the bickering, the yelling, the occasional shoving and hair pulling.
He was timid again when he arrived to pick them up, like he didn’t know how to interact with someone with whom he’d once shared a bed. Booster seats strapped in, snacks packed in a bag you prepared for him, money, water bottles, a change of socks in case someone’s got dirty. Pizza, CeCe had been begging, and soda, and then ice cream on the way home.
He nodded when you ran through the plan again, a small smirk on his face that sent a shiver down your spine. “I’ve got it.”
“What are you smiling for?”
“Well, I mean, I know what I’m doing, Y/N--s’not the first time.”
“I know, but she’s seven now and her friend still needs to be home by 9pm and make sure Maeve doesn’t have too much soda or else she’ll be texting on her stupid phone all night.”
“I thought you were taking it from her at bedtime?”
You sighed, about to reply before he cut himself off and backtracked.
“Sorry--not my place, I don’t--anyway. Okay,” he looked down at the four girls. Maeve and Hayley, CeCe and Lily. How on earth he felt comfortable bringing the four of them in public was unknown--probably would be until the day you died--but you practiced going with the flow and let out another exhale.
You were trying to play it cool in more ways than one. Cool mom, not anxious about sending her children off with a famous celebrity who had somehow doubled as the world’s best babysitter or stand-in father-figure. And then casual, nonchalant previous hook-up who didn’t have any feelings about interfacing with Harry despite all that had occurred between you. You’d practiced in your mirror a few times before she showed up, but nothing prepared you for the climbing heartbeat when he rested a hand on CeCe’s head lovingly.
“Okay, Maeve, call me if you need anything. Hayley--your mom already texted me so I’ll keep her updated if you guys are going to be late, but text her when you get to the trampoline park, okay?”
Hayley nodded and Maeve rolled her eyes. CeCe brushed hair out of her face. “Are we good? I have jumping to do.”
Harry stifled a laugh and looked back to you. “We’re good. I’ll text you, enjoy your night.”
They piled in and buckled before you could even shut the garage door and head inside. You poured some wine and stared out into the backyard for a moment, wondering how on earth you’d settled in this house and into a life you almost didn’t recognize. Just a year ago you were finalizing your divorce, trying to figure out where you’d end up, watching your father decline in health as Maeve started wearing a training bra.
Now they were choosing Harry over you and suddenly your family felt more incomplete than it ever had, simply because he moved out.
But instead of sulking in regret, you put on a movie and ordered your own take out. At only 7pm you were already struggling to keep your eyes open, but a vibrating from the end table pulled you back to the movie you were already bored of.
You grabbed your phone and saw it was Harry--a knot in your stomach twisted and tugged when you answered.
“Hi,”
“Hi, uh, everything’s fine, we’re okay, but Maeve maybe broke her arm? I don’t know--Lily’s mom is on her way to come get her and Hayley, so that’s good, but Maeve needs to go to the emergency room.”
“What the fuck happened, Harry, how did she hurt herself?”
You were already up and on your feet, flip flops on and keys in hand when you tugged a sweatshirt over your head but kept spouting off questions.
“Were you not watching them? Is she okay? What hospital?”
“She landed on it wrong, it might just be a sprain or something! Just come and I’ll tell you everything, okay? She’s alright, the EMTs already wrapped her up--”
“She’s going in an ambulance?!”
You were in the car now, heart beating rapidly when your mouth felt dry and the ignition turned on.
“I’ll meet you at the Cedars Sinai in Tarzana, okay? Breathe, Y/N,”
You hung up without another word, blew a red light on the way there and wondered if this was your punishment for being the worst mom ever. Had all of your bad decisions somehow come back to bite you in the ass, or break Maeve’s arm?
Was letting Harry take them to a crowded trampoline park a mistake? Did he get recognized and mobbed and Maeve was a casualty? The questions flew through your head as you flew down the freeway, but you couldn’t shake one particular thought: thank God Harry was calm.
If you were going to be this elevated and out of breath before you even found them in the hospital, someone needed to keep his cool and be able to remember the doctor’s orders.
You pushed into the emergency department of the hospital he’d directed you to in under 13 minutes. A sticker on your chest and a nurse who brought you down a hall to a room with a curtain pulled shut. When she opened it, Maeve was in the bed and CeCe was sat in a chair beside her, Harry paced back and forth.
His eyes were wide when he turned to see you, but you didn’t acknowledge him.
“Sweetie? Hi, what happened, are you okay?”
Harry moved closer to you, but gave you enough space to inspect your daughter.
“I’m fine,” Maeve rolled her eyes when you pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“I’m fine, too,” CeCe said in the corner with an attitude. “It’s still my birthday, you know.”
“How could we forget?” Harry offered her a smile.
“What happened?” You turned around and asked this with force.
“What do you mean what happened? I told you on the phone, she was jumping and messing around and she just landed on it wrong. It was an accident.”
“I’m fine, mom--it hurts but I’m fine, you don’t have to make this a big thing,” Maeve argued again from behind you. You held out a finger to silence her, this wasn’t the moment for her to get involved.
“Were you watching her closely enough, Harry? How many kids were around? You can’t just let her go off and mess around at a place like that, there are so many limbs flailing about, it’s dangerous.”
“There wasn’t anyone else in there,” Harry shrugged.
“What do you mean?”
He sighed, almost like he didn’t want to admit it. “I rented it out--I didn’t want anyone else there to, you know, steal the spotlight in case they knew who I was.”
You paused, looked from him to Maeve to CeCe and back. “You rented out a trampoline park for a 7-year-old’s birthday party?”
“Well, she’s not just any 7-year-old,” Harry smiled a little.
“No I’m not!” CeCe sang with excitement.
You gave him a smack across the arm. “Harry!”
“Oh my god, can you relax?” Maeve groaned.
You turned around to tell her to shut it--with a smile, of course--but the doctor pushed her way through a curtain and smiled.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Patel, you’re the mom?”
“Yes,” you nodded, crossed your arms and watched as she pushed x-rays up onto a screen.
“Good news is that it’s not broken all the way through, but there’s a fracture. We’ll do a cast for four weeks and do another x-ray then, see how it looks.”
“Okay,” you said, taking it all in. “But she’s alright? She’ll heal okay?”
“She’ll be fine,” Dr. Patel smiled. “The fracture is right here,” she pointed to the screen when she shoved the x-ray up in front of the light. “Four weeks and I’m sure she’ll heal perfectly. She needs to rest, for sure. Ice it tonight, there’s a pediatric orthopedist I recommend for the cast, we can get you an appointment tomorrow. Advil to handle pain over the next week or so but she should feel much better in a few days.”
“I told you,” Maeve snarled.
CeCe was happy sucking on a lollipop, a sticker on her shirt said Birthday Girl in sparkly pink lettering and you didn’t know if it was from the trampoline park or a friendly person in the Cedars Sinai emergency department.
Harry also had his arms crossed over his chest. Dr. Patel smiled and reported that a nurse would be in to give you discharge paperwork and verify an appointment time for Maeve’s cast. When you turned around to see her again, Maeve said: “don’t be mad at Harry.”
“Of course,” you rolled your eyes.
“Of course what?” Maeve asked.
“Of course you say don’t be mad at Harry--”
“Why would you be mad at me?”
“I don’t know! Cause she broke her arm on your watch,” you said, aware of how your emotions were getting the best of you. Maybe it wasn’t the right thing to do in front of the girls, maybe this was just another reason why you were winning the award for worst mom of the year.
“Fractured,” Maeve corrected.
“It’s not my fault,” Harry said quickly.
“Well you were the adult there,” you shot back.
“Don’t fight on my birthday!” CeCe whined.
“Typical parents,” Maeve rolled her eyes.
“He’s not your father,” you spit it out without thinking, words that caught everyone off guard and soon hovered in the air overhead when the room fell silent.
Maeve made a face, Harry let his gaze fall to the ground, his lips pursed into a thin line when he looked back up and changed the subject.
“CeCe, I heard there’s ice cream downstairs in the cafeteria if you want some?”
She perked right up at that, stood from her chair and then took his hand to head out of the room and down the hall.
Once it was just you and Maeve, she looked at you and waited.
“What?”
“You’re not going to yell at me?”
“I don’t exactly have it in me right now,” you admitted.
“I know Harry’s not my dad, just to be clear.”
You sighed, about to reply when she cut you off.
“But it feels like that sometimes. I mean, dad’s never around and Harry’s been around so much and you two--”
“I know,” you nodded. “I get it. Believe me.”
It was confusing, and if it was confusing for you, you could only imagine how confusing it was for them. Harry had become a fixture in their lives and someone they could count on, even more than they could count on their own father. And in Maeve’s defense, Harry did act like a parent in a lot of ways. Carpools, cooking, chasing them around the yard--you couldn’t be mad at Maeve for noticing the ways Harry undeniably fit into your family. She wasn’t the enemy, even when she called you on your feelings for him or pointed out the obvious chemistry. She was just observant and hopeful and innocently hoping that Harry would stick around forever. You could relate.
So it wasn’t worth getting worked up--the nurse came in and went over the aftercare plan and Maeve was in better spirits when Harry and CeCe returned with a dish of soft serve with her name on it. She complained in the parking lot that she wanted to ride in Harry’s car and when they both chose to ride with him, he shrugged innocently but promised he’d meet you at home.
He was only a few minutes behind you, let himself in the side door with both of them trailing him when you put the lid on your take out and slid it into the fridge.
“Sorry for interrupting your alone time,” he said with a nod at the half-empty bottle of wine on the island.
“Mommy, do I get another birthday since Maeve ruined mine?”
“I didn’t ruin yours,” Maeve gave her a light shove with her hip. “You got to stay up way past your bedtime, see? It’s already almost 11pm.”
“Which means both of you need to get up there and brush your teeth,” you informed them. “Say goodnight to Harry.”
CeCe filed over first, wrapped her arms around his legs and squeezed. “‘Night Harry thank you for ice cream and jumping!”
“You’re welcome, lovie,” he said, a hand on her head to smooth down her hair.
“Thanks for letting me ride in the ambulance by myself, mom never would have let me,” Maeve said when she wrapped her good arm around him.
“You went alone?” You stopped wiping the counter and looked up at them, somehow that detail got lost in the shuffle and just now clicked.
“And she’s fine and she’s home now, so,” Harry bit back a laugh when you exhaled with force.
“Okay, I can help you brush up, Maeve--I’ll be up in a second.”
CeCe took off at that, her feet disappeared up the stairs when Maeve looked at you, then Harry, then back at you. “I can do it, or CeCe can help. I’m fine, if you want to--I don’t know. Goodnight!”
Was she trying to give you two a minute alone? You made a face when she climbed the stairs but then found Harry smiling at you.
‘“What?”
“She’s trying to give us a minute alone,” he nodded, somehow aware of the thoughts in your head. You felt your cheeks flush at the immaturity of the moment, somehow your twelve-year-old was more in tune with the awkwardness in the kitchen than you were.
You stifled a laugh and stood frozen in place, unsure of what to say or how to behave. A part of you wanted to admit everything: the regret, the remorse, the way you wished he was down the hall or in the other room or simply a phone call away.
Blurting all of that out in your kitchen felt stupid and unpolished, so you put your hands on your hips and shifted your weight from one foot to another. Harry looked at the clock on the wall.
“Do you, uh, want a glass of wine?”
Maybe it was a stupid offer--it was late, the girls had to go to sleep--but something in you wanted to tug him close and ask him to never leave.
He hesitated for a moment, scanned your face, but then nodded. “Sure.”
He watched you reach for glasses and moved to sit at the island. When you corked the bottle and poured, he cleared his throat.
“I, uh, stand by the fact that Maeve getting hurt wasn’t my fault--” he smirked a little, “but, I’m sorry and I’m glad she’s okay.”
“Me too,” you agreed, pushing a glass towards him. “I guess that’s why they make you sign a waiver.”
“I know you think it’s dumb that I rented the whole place out, but I think it was a smart move, that way Maeve doesn’t have to be all embarrassed about being taken out on a stretcher.”
He ran a hand through his hair and laughed, the image of your embarrassed pre-teen brought a selfish smile to your face. He held his glass up and waited for you to clink yours against it. “To Maeve’s speedy healing and to CeCe’s seventh birthday.”
You sighed, “I can’t believe she’s seven. Makes me feel ancient.”
“You’re not ancient.”
“I have a twelve-year-old and a seven-year-old. I think that makes me ancient.”
He rolled his eyes at your theatrics. “How do you think people with twenty-year-olds feel?”
“Even worse,” you grimaced.
He smiled up at you when you set your glass back down. “Sorry we didn’t really get to talk at Jeff’s birthday--I know I was busy and distracted.”
“It’s okay. I just wanted to make sure you knew about CeCe’s recital.”
“It’s on my calendar.” An awkward beat. “Is Luke going to be there?”
“Supposedly, he should be.”
Harry nodded, took a loud sip and looked around the room.
“How’s the house coming?”
“Good, yeah--been moving a lot of stuff in. Haven’t stayed over yet, but probably next week. It’ll be weird to live alone, though, haven’t done it in a while.”
“The girls really miss you,” you nodded, a playful eye roll to gauge his reaction. “I haven’t heard the end of it.”
“They do?”
Hope in his eyes when you nodded.
“Of course they do,” you laughed like it should have been obvious, like he should have known about their constant begging to see him or their recounting of happy memories. Remember when Harry said, remember when we, I miss being able to…
“I miss them, too.” Quiet for a moment when he looked at the wine in his glass. He looked up slowly, met your gaze before he shrugged like the words were casual or unimportant. “I miss you.”
When you didn’t say anything he stood up, a step closer to you while you tried to gather your thoughts, your words, offer up anything other than a blank stare brought on by butterflies and beating hearts.
“Mommy, are you coming?” CeCe was at the top of the stairs, her face barely visible around the corner and through her messy hair. “Maeve can’t brush my hair.”
“Coming,” you nodded, eyes on his for a second when he let out an exhale, you lowered your voice to speak only to him. “Sorry.”
He nodded, chest deflated when he took a step back. “S’probably for the best, right?”
Your lips parted to speak, but he turned on his feet and grabbed for his keys on the counter.
“CeCe--I’ll see you next week at the recital, okay? Keep practicing those pirouettes!” He made a funny face at her, a toothy grin when she giggled and then he waved over his shoulder. A half-empty wine glass on the counter was soon the other reminder of his presence when you climbed the stairs.
**
Getting CeCe dressed and ready to go was always a nightmare. Getting Maeve dressed in something that would compliment her cast, not clash with it, was a new dilemma that had you praying the next three weeks would fly by.
With the school year coming to a close and both of your children eager for summer to hit with full force, they were in better spirits despite the clothing dilemma that had plagued your house before CeCe’s recital.
She was three minutes late but still let you kiss her on the head when you pushed her off to join the other leotard-clad kiddos backstage. You found your seats with the Azoffs and Tristan, wondered if Luke or Harry would actually show up like they’d promised.
“‘Scuse me, sorry, m’just heading right there,” you heard his voice before you saw him, felt your shoulders rise up to your ears when you felt Tristan shift beside you to make room for him. He was cutting it close and by the look on his face when your eyes met his, he knew it.
“Hi,” he said it quietly, almost uncertain if you’d reply or give a greeting at all. You offered a tiny smile, Tristan patted him on the thigh once he took his seat.
“Harry!” Maeve grinned when she leaned down and saw him. “Mom, can me and Tristan switch so I can sit next to Harry?”
You were caught off guard by her question, fumbled with the program in hand when Tristan answered for you.
“Of course,” he said, stood and side stepped your daughter as she climbed over your lap.
Maeve threw her arms around Harry when she was close enough. “I have so much to catch you up on with Hayley!”
He smiled at that, hugged her back and then brushed hair out of her face when she sat. “We’re due for a guitar lesson, we can still work on strumming even with the cast on,” he told her. “Maybe we can catch up then.”
He glanced in your direction, another awkward smile when you felt the let down wash over you again.
You tried--you had made so much effort to shift your definition of family to let him fit in it. But sometimes people were too different and goals were too different and sometimes family doesn’t mean happily ever after, just like you always knew.
And you’d tried to tell him, piece together words to explain how you felt and what you wanted, but things always got in the way. Maybe the universe was trying to save you more embarrassment or maybe that was just an excuse you landed on to save yourself any more sleepless nights.
“He smells so good, by the way,” Tristan whispered into your ear, gaining an eye roll from you when the curtain opened. The audience erupted in applause, the sounds of happy parents filled the auditorium when a herd of first graders fell into place in pink tutus.
“There she is!” Maeve pointed up at the stage, a grin on her face so wide you could count her teeth.
CeCe’s face lit up when she found you all in the crowd, but when her eyes settled on Harry, she couldn’t hide her excitement. She waved and jumped up and down a little, gaining composure only when the music started to play.
She twirled around with grace, much more than you’d seen her carry in the backyard during squishball or the knock down, drag out fights she’d been known to have with her sister. She made it through the dance numbers with ease, and you didn’t even realize you were nervous for her until Tristan pried his leg free from your grasp: you’re hurting me.
There were only a few minutes of awkwardness when the show ended. Maeve told Harry about a science project and he shifted on his feet, stealing glances in your direction every few seconds. He excused himself to the restroom only seconds before CeCe burst through the door with a grin on her face, glitter on her cheeks and a ribbon in her hair.
“Did you see me mommy?!”
“I did see you!” You knelt down to squeeze her tight. “You were graceful and poised and you looked absolutely stunning! We got you flowers,” you motioned to the roses in Tristan’s arms, he smiled when he handed them over to her. They were almost as tall as she was but she wrapped both arms around the bouquet.
“You did really good,” Maeve admitted. “And the tutu looks great.”
She was distracted now, her eyes found Harry in the crowd as he walked back from the bathroom, both hands in his pockets until he heard her call his name. “Harry!”
“Hi lovie,” he knelt down and opened his arms. “You did so well! Did you have fun?”
“So much fun!” She giggled. “I didn’t know if you’d come!”
“Of course I came,” he said, his smile faltering a little when he looked up at you. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
You bit your tongue, now wasn’t the time to break your own rule: no shit talking in front of the girls. Sure, it was a rule you first adopted post-Luke, but now it almost felt like talking badly about Harry would hurt them more to hear than if you bad-mouthed their own father.
Maeve looked excitedly in your direction. “Mom, can Harry come to dinner tonight with everyone?”
He stood up now, hand on top of CeCe’s hair when he waited for an answer from you.
You were torn, bit at your lip for a second before you realized you needed to spit out some kind of answer. Your heart wanted him there and with you always, an addition to your family that you never knew you needed or wanted until he was literally under your roof. But your head was nervous, certain that the only thing that would come from this was more heartbreak and more confusion--and that was something that nobody needed.
“Yeah, sure--of course.”
CeCe clapped and jumped up and down again, looking up at her sister. “We can play squishball! I’ll race you to the car!”
They took off, climbed into the backseat and laughed the whole way home when you tried to prevent the headache that you could feel coming on. Jeff beat you back, Shelli and Irv too--soon the grill was on and Jeff wore an apron with handprints from three Christmases ago. Best Uncle Ever.
A few of CeCe’s friends and their parents tagged along, and soon you were handing out glasses of wine to other moms and wishing it didn’t hurt to see him help Maeve put her hair up in a pony-tail.
You kept yourself busy as host, do you need another drink, thanks for coming, we love the neighborhood. Anything to keep you from staring at him from across the backyard wondering what on earth he meant when he said s’probably for the best.
But he was calm, talked with Jeff and Irv and stood by the grill to help pass around plates when dinner was ready. He helped CeCe cut her burger in half and laughed when Maeve pulled out the waterproof wrap she’d convinced you to buy on Amazon so she could still go swimming.
He didn’t speak to you, though, quick glances your way when you’d reply to someone else--talking up and down and all around each other as if direct acknowledgement might cause the house to catch fire.
It was unavoidable, though, when he wandered towards the front of the house with his head buried in his phone, unaware that he’d caught you in a private moment.
The beep of Luke’s voicemail had your blood boiling, and you’d probably leave a string of threats had Harry not looked up and realized, finally, it was just the two of you in the driveway.
“Sorry,” he said awkwardly, eyes glancing around to confirm that no one else was nearby.
“No, it’s fine.” You pulled the phone away from your face and hung up. “I was just trying to get a hold of Luke. He said he’d come but then he didn’t show up. Now he’s not answering my calls, so--”
“Seems like nothing’s changed,” he nodded, disappointment in his voice when he shoved a hand in his pocket.
You let out an awkward laugh both at Harry’s sentiment and presence. “Yeah, well, I don’t know if we can ever really expect it to, right?”
“Right.”
The music from the backyard wafted over the roof, a car drove by outside the gate and he looked at you for a second before forcing out more small talk.
“How’s work been?”
“Good,” you nodded, an uncomfortable burn in your chest when you realized he now fell in the category of people who don’t know. He didn’t know how your meetings went, he didn’t know what you wanted for dinner. He didn’t know what Maeve was learning in math and he didn’t know about CeCe’s loose tooth.
“How’re things with you?”
“Good--my house is done, and I’m pretty much all moved in, so that’s nice.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, it’s kind of quiet, you know. No yelling down the hall or noise from the backyard.”
You forced a laugh, “must be nice.”
“It’s miserable, actually.”
You looked up at that, caught off guard by the emotion and seriousness in his voice. “Really?”
“Yes, really,” he laughed like you were crazy, kept himself in check but then shrugged. “I just--I don’t know. I miss being here with you three.”
“Yeah, well, it’s been kind of shitty here without you, too.”
He took a step closer to you at that, eyebrows knit together on his forehead like he’d been waiting to ask: “Why did you make me leave?”
You searched for an answer, let out a few squeaks when he seemed to hang on every word. “Because I didn’t know what was happening, everything moved so quickly between us and--”
“You were scared?”
“That’s what everyone keeps saying.”
He let out a sigh. “I know what happened between us was weird and unexpected, but that doesn’t make it wrong.”
“I know,” you nodded, honesty pouring out of you like floodgates had been opened. “I think I just pulled back when I panicked and--I don’t know. I tried to avoid what ended up happening.”
The corner of his mouth pulled up into a smirk, another step closer. “Which was?”
“You leaving and all of us being heartbroken.”
He smirked, parted his lips to speak but you cut him off. “Instead of waiting for it to possibly happen, I became the queen of self-fulfilling prophecies.”
As if on cue, CeCe burst through the front door as she searched for you. When she looked up to see both of you in the driveway, she smiled. “Am I interrupting something?”
“No,” you rolled your eyes and laughed, surprised again by her wit and charm.
“CeCe,” Harry kneeled down, held out a hand to usher her over. “Do you remember what you told me about your art project when we went for pizza, that night a few weeks ago when you got a blue gumball from the machine near the bathroom?”
“Hmm,” she thought on it for a second. “The one with Mrs. Platsky?”
“Yeah--that one.”
“What about it?” She asked.
“Can you tell mommy what you drew?”
“Well, first she asked to draw what we thought of when we thought of ‘home’ a while ago, like a few weeks ago, I think. But then the next week she helped us make family trees and I drew mine with purple leaves,” she smiled excitedly and giggled when Harry nodded.
“Do you have that somewhere?”
“Yeah, in my backpack probably!”
“Do you want to get it so we can show mom?”
This made her nervous, she looked down to her feet, still in ballet slippers. “Well, yeah, but mom said we had to stop acting like we were a family.”
He looked down at her and then up at you, a small smile on his face when she shrugged one shoulder. “I was never acting, for the record.”
You held back a laugh, rolled your eyes at his smooth remark.
“Okay, I’ll go get it,” CeCe nodded, apparently that was enough for her. She ran off, back into the house to search for whatever it was, and for some reason, tears filled your eyes when he stood back up and looked at you.
“I don’t know what your definition of family is, but I can tell you mine.”
You tried to wipe at your eyes to hide any evidence of emotion, but he caught your hands and held them in his.
“I think of people I love, people I feel like I can be myself with. I think about this house, and your daughters, and I think about you. I think about the stupid fights that they have and I think about how happy I would be if I got to see them go off to prom or to college or on their first date--but that one makes me really nervous, actually.”
You laughed at that, the crack of a smile on your face brought one to his.
“I also didn’t expect this to turn out the way it did, but I don’t care if you’re thirty-two and I don’t care if you have children, because I love them, too. And I would rather be here in this house with a nontraditional definition of family than on my own in Malibu.”
You nodded, let him wrap his arms around you when you felt your forehead hit his shoulder. And because there was no privacy in this house or in this family, Maeve also burst through the door and smiled wide.
“Are you guys hugging?!”
“Does it look like we’re hugging?” Harry teased, opening an arm so Maeve could squeeze her way in.
She wrapped her arms around you, “I’ve been waiting for you guys to figure it out.”
“I found it, I found it!” CeCe came running out again, by now Jeff had wandered out too, Irv and Shelli looked on while Zoey came out to the driveway with Benny on her hip to see the commotion.
Harry knelt down again, helped CeCe unroll a piece of construction paper that had, as promised, purple leaves.
“Here’s you, mom, you’re up here near Grandpa,” she smiled. “Then daddy’s over here, and Harry’s here, then Maeve is next to me. Then Auntie Shelli and Uncle Irv are here with Uncle Jeff--and then Benny’s here, I drew a little baby, see?”
“I do see,” you placed a hand on top of her head, smiled through tears as she pointed around to all of the people who loved you, all of the people who you could be yourself with, all of the people standing around watching as CeCe proudly displayed her family tree.
“Mom,” Maeve tugged at your arm again. “I don’t mean to put you on the spot with everyone here, but I think now would be a good time to tell Harry you like him.”
Shelli let out a laugh, wrapped an arm around Irv when Tristan shouted: “I agree, Y/N, I think now’s a good time.”
You looked around at all of them, half embarrassed, but settled and content and actually happy. Then your eyes settled on Harry, a coy smirk as he looked at you expectantly.
“Do I really have to say it?”
“Mmm,” he nodded, “I think you do.”
“Fine,” you sighed, motioning a hand around the driveway. “With everyone as my witness, I think you’re pretty cool.”
Maeve cleared her throat, “and you love him.”
You tried to fight a smile, looked at Harry when he grinned down at Maeve. “You can tell your mom I love her, too.”
CeCe had crawled her way up to Jeff’s shoulders now, a big smile on her face. “Oh just kiss already!” she giggled.
Harry’s eyes went wide in her direction, “how did you know I wanted to do that?”
“I’m just smart,” she shrugged. “I know lots of things.”
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AN: FRIENDS! Thank you for always joining me on the journey I create. All of the comments and messages and reblogs mean the world to me and I feel so lucky that people want to read the random shit I write and make up in my head. I've added a playlist for this chapter you can find here in case you want to really feel the feels during this one. Stay tuned for more stories!!!!
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This crazy thing called love. || 4
Authors Note: Hey!! Here is part 4 of this crazy thing called love. I hope you all enjooy it. The other parts can be found here.
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
You can find my blurb Master list HERE
|| Harry || “What can I say about love? It can be one of the immeasurable experiences and it can be one of the gravest, it all depends on who you ask. I’ve spent my time in my office attempting to write this article with tear-stained cheeks and a bit of a broken heart myself. Many people have investigated the same question over and over again, ‘what is love?’ And here I am, to tell anyone reading. Love is something that takes you by surprise, it isn’t always easily perceived, it is sometimes concealed behind a sheer coat of denial. It awakens your soul and annihilates the demons inside you, it makes your head spin in an astonishing way, it makes you feel on top of the world, even if you’re at the bottom. Love is peering into someone’s eyes and recognizing nothing but contentment. Their eyes aren’t just a shade, they’re something so indescribable that you just want to fall into them with every breath you take. Love is being able to take a piece of his cake without him whining or moaning that you’re cramping his style, it’s being able to stumble across the pavement while a little bit tipsy and not having to worry about anything besides the fact the two of you are blissfully making fools of yourselves.
Love is seeing someone at their most vulnerable, weakest stage and still only seeing the strong individual they are. It is looking past the insecurities and the flaws and still loving the person and loving each and every imperfection.
Love is being contented with forever changing when you meet the one, the one that will take your world by storm and turn it upside down in the most beautiful way possible. Love is giving someone the opportunity to possess your heart in their steady hands and trusting them enough not to pulverize it with every fibre of their body. It is gratifying their hands to act like the ribcage outlining your most vital and vulnerable organ, the heart. Conceding someone’s hands to wholeheartedly seize you at your every weakness and breach your every defence and not having to worry that those same hands will turn from their pure gold form to crisp black weapons of destruct. Love is granting the other person everything, entrusting them with your secrets, your life, your insecurities, and your apprehensions in hope they won’t use them against you but cherish them and hold them close.
Love is two souls that are correlated on a level as if they are one, they’re two peas in a pod, two best friends that want nothing but the best for each other, two souls that feel the same spark, flame, and connection, two souls that will always stand by each other through the good times and the bad.
Love is what I have for my best friend, and I don’t mean the kind of love that is platonic, I mean the character of love that enkindles a burning in my soul, the sort of love that I’d fight heaven and earth just to be able to welcome. Sometimes, it doesn’t hit us in the way we suspect, sometimes it is nonchalant before abruptly hitting us all at once. It hit me while sitting in a coffee shop, his eyes undividedly focused on a row of cakes, I viewed the way his brows knitted together and his lips pursed together into a straight line while he attempted to figure out what he wanted. I never thought the day would come where I’d pay so much attention to the way someone stands and decides on a sweet, but that day I did. When I look at him, I don’t perceive the same man the world sees, I understand a man with a heart of gold, a man that entitles me to steal pieces of his food even though it was intended for him, I perceive a man who takes his coffee strong, but won’t complain if it isn’t made to his perfection; I see a man that will walk four blocks to meet me, just to see me for a few minutes, I notice a man that any woman would be lucky to have as their husband and the father of their children. I see a man that slipped through my fingers while I wasn’t looking.
This crazy thing called love has erupted a raging inferno inside me that has spread through me like wildfire, it has become a blessing and a curse. I feel it in the tips of his fingers when his hands are pressed to me, I feel it between the scent of his cologne and the fabric of his jacket when it graces over me graciously in the cold; I feel it encrypted between every lyric he shows me while biting his bottom lip while awaiting my opinion, most importantly, I feel it when I am around him. I feel it all over me, from the tips of my toes all the way up my body, I feel it when I look into his brilliant eyes and when his smile lights up the darkest of days. This crazy thing called love is a treacherous slope that I would fall down every day if it meant his welcoming arms and smile would be at the bottom ready to help me out.”
I stare at the article she wrote, a piece of work that has somehow managed to revolve itself around me; I don’t need to finish the piece to know that the feelings between the two of us are not platonic or strictly best friends.
I gaze at my car keys in front of me, my foot patting nervously against my floorboards as I contemplate on what I should do. Do I go find her and tell her how I feel? Do I let her go?
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Do you know who you are?
I’m never coming back down
Like a Virgin
yayayayayaya first post!
i meant for this to only be smutty and short, but it's a bit angsty cause that's how i am :) happy happy ending, though
word count: 6,757 (sorry)
warnings: heavy sexual content, unprotected sex, cursing, all around filthy stuff
summary: Harry Styles is your best friend and wants to lose his virginity to you, but he doesn't think you feel the same.
Harry Styles wants to have sex with you.
The thought has been silenced by years of a platonic relationship, but lately, as he's seen you become more in tune with who you are, especially your body, the thought has been pushed to the front of his mind.
You've always been, without a doubt, the most beautiful girl in the world to Harry, but growing up with someone who's claimed you're best friends and nothing else, makes you see them in a different way. And that's what you've always said. Harry is your best friend, and nothing would ever change that.
The thing is, Harry wants nothing more than for you to be the one to take his virginity. Harry wishes for nothing but for you to be the only person he has sex with for the rest of his life. The both of you have always been quite touchy-feely, even to the extent where it definitely borders on the line of platonic and romantic. And Harry could take the fall for a lot of the touchy gestures, but you have your fair share of seemingly meaningless touches too. The way you sit in his lap anywhere even if there's an empty chair. The way you comb your fingers through his hair and kiss his head when Harry's laying on your chest for a cuddle. The way you hug him from behind anywhere and anytime and run your palms across his belly. The way you smother his cheeks with kisses until he's drowning in his own blush any chance you get. Anything and everything you do seems to make his stomach churn with admiration and make his head dizzy- knees weak. He just wishes the feelings were reciprocated.
"Harry, are you sure I look okay in this?" Your sweet voice awakes him from his fantasy. He props himself up on his elbows on your bed and just about gets on his knees to worship you when his eyes meet you. You're both about to go out clubbing with a few friends and decided to get ready together as per usual. Your unconditional beauty always seems to surprise Harry no matter what. Your outfit makes his jaw drop a bit and his dick stiffens in his pants. He tries really hard to think about turn-offs, but with you standing in front of him looking as good as you do, nothing can come to mind. "Harry." You snap your fingers in front of his face.
"Sorry, what did you ask?" He questions, a blush creeping up his cheeks and to the tip of his ears. You stifle a laugh.
"I asked if you think I look okay."
"Yes, yes. You look... okay," He agrees. You narrow your eyes down at him.
"Just okay? I really want to look nice tonight. I seriously need to get laid. It's been ages," You cry dramatically. Harry's face deepens into a frown. "Hey, what's with the frown, you whiny pup?" You cup his jaw between your fingers so his cheeks smush and lean over him, giving the sadistic man a perfect view of your tits.
"Nothing, I'm fine," He lies through his teeth, his eyes looking anywhere but yours. You squint in dismay and slowly crawl your way to sit yourself on his lap. The sigh he lets out could almost be mistaken as a whimper. He thanks God that your sitting on his thighs and not a bit higher.
"I can always tell when you're lying, H," You whisper, your hands running through his hair to manipulate an answer out of him. He practically purrs from your touch. "Now, fess up."
"It's nothing, really. I just- I was just thinking about how I need to put myself out there. Don't want to be a 40-year-old virgin," He laughs bashfully.
Your stomach churns.
"Right," You sigh and move off him. Harry looks at you confused as you walk back to the bathroom.
"Hey, Y/N, did I do something?" He calls after you, following you into the bathroom. You finish the last touches with yourself and turn to look at the worried boy. Your face softens.
"Harry," You whisper, closing the distance between you two as you walk over to him. You wrap your arms around his waist and gaze up into his eyes. "You know I love you more than anyone, right?" You ask, sliding your hands up his chest. He nods in agreement, and you can feel his heart rate going a million miles an hour as you place your hand over his chest. "Say it," You demand.
"Yes, I know you do," He whispers, practically putty in your hands. Your hands slide up to cup his face.
"And you know that I would do anything in the world for you?" You purr, ghosting your lips over his cheek.
"Y-Yes," He stutters. Out of an impulse moment of desire, you stand on your tippy-toes and place a light kiss to the corner of his mouth. Harry practically moans, his hands flying to grip onto the sink behind you, caging you in.
"Good," You say, placing a kiss to his throat before abruptly pushing him away and grabbing your things.
"W-What?" Harry basically whimpers.
"C'mon, silly boy. We don't want to be late," You declare and grab his hand, dragging him downstairs and to his car to make him drive.
He's in for one hell of a night.
Harry could not have been happier. You literally had not left his side the entire night. You had dragged him into the bar, found your friends in a booth, and plopped yourself on his lap for the entire night. He didn't know what had gotten into you, but he wasn't going to complain. Barely anyone batted an eye at the behavior of both of you. Harry was getting antsy, though. He was itching to touch you. As sooon as he was about to raise his hands from your lower thighs to higher, he heard his name being called.
"Harry, c'mon, let's go get some drinks," His friend Armand suggested. Armand had already slid out of the booth they were all sat in and was waving Harry on. Harry almost whined when he felt you tug on his hair.
"You go on by yourself, mate," Harry answered, leaning himself into your neck since you were sitting sideways across his lap.
"C'mon you whipped man," Armand chuckled, grabbing Harry's shoulder and giving it a harsh shove. Harry's cheeks were flaming. He heard your angelic giggle and felt you slide off his lap. Immediately he felt empty.
"Go on now, pet," You whisper in his ear before pressing a gentle kiss on his cheek.
"Fucks sakes," He mumbles under his breath before getting out of the booth and moping to the bar alongside Armand. Once they reach the bar, the ordered their drinks, and Harry waited impatiently.
"Dude," Armand laughs, noticing how Harry was literally itching to get back to you.
"What?" Harry snaps.
"Hey, hey. Take it easy, would ya'?"
"Sorry, man," Harry lightly laughs.
"What are you going to do, H?" Armand sighs.
"What are you talking about?" Harry feigns confusion. Armand gives him a knowing look. "Okay, shit. I don't know. Every time I think I might have a chance, she says some friend shit, and I feel like we're back to-" Harry stops talking when his eyes wander back over to your table where he sees you hugging some man he's never seen before. An attractive man, at that.
"What are you lookin- Oh, shit." Armand stops. You're laughing loudly at whatever the man just said and playfully shove his shoulder. Harry's heart feels like it just got ripped out of his chest and stomped on repeatedly. "Dude-" Armand begins, but Harry cuts him off.
"It's alright. Always knew I wouldn't be enough, huh?" Harry laughs in self deprecation. On his left, he catches a glimpse of a girl who's been eyeing him since he got to the bar. He smiles and walks towards her.
It's now or never.
"Hello, my name's Harry."
Your eyes are searching for Harry everywhere in the bar, but it's no use. It's been twenty minutes since Harry and Armand went to the bar, and Armand came back about five minutes ago- with a suspiciously guilty look on his face- and said Harry had disappeared.
"I'm getting worried. I really wanted to introduce him to my cousin, Ben, but-" Your sentence gets cut off.
"Wait- who?" Armand interjects.
"Um, my cousin? He was over here while you two were at the bar. I told Harry we might see him tonight, and I wanted them to get along," You explain.
"Ah, shit," Armand exhales.
"What?" You pry, your eyes glaring at your friend sitting in front of you.
"Well, here's the thing," Armand begins with a guilty laugh. "We didn't know that was your cousin, and he got... upset."
"Are you serious? I literally showed him pictures of my cousin before we left. Where is he, Armand?"
"I think he's trying to... put himself out there right now," Armand explains.
Your heart drops.
You rise from the booth, hearing your friends shout for you, but you aren't paying attention to any of them. You're a woman on a mission, and nothing could stop you.
You search the dance floor, but to no avail. You're about to give up, but your eyes catch something you wish you could have never seen. Down the dark hallway that leads to the bathroom, you see Harry and a woman you don't recognize properly making out. It's like knives being plunged into your chest. And to think, you were going to tell him how you felt tonight.
"Hey, bitch, take a picture, it'll last longer." You're snapped out of your thoughts when you hear the most annoying voice in your life aiming in your direction. "Yeah, you. Are you deaf?" God, someone gag her.
"Y/N," You hear his voice in return. Your gaze settles on his hands that he still hasn't taken off of her waist. He seems to understand where your eyes have gone because he quickly loses his grip on her and backs away like she's slapped him.
"You know her?" The girl asks.
"No, no, he doesn't," You spit and turn on your heal, practically running away towards your table to collect your things. When you reach the table, all eyes are on your, and it's as if everyone is expecting you to explode.
"Y/N-" Armand whispers, still heard over the loud music of the club.
"It's okay," You murmur back. You're about to make your escape when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You turn and meet Harry's guilty eyes, flinching away from his touch as if you've been burned.
"Y/N," Harry's voice is flooded with emotion, but you don't want to hear any of it. I mean you really have no reason to be mad- it was never official.
"It's fine, Harry. You got what you wanted. I'm h-happy for you," The words seethe from your teeth.
"Are you seriously upset right now?" You hear from behind you.
"Harry don't-" Armand tries, but he's cut off.
"No- seriously. You have no right to be upset. You've been leading me on ever since I've known you, and when I actually thought I had a chance- I see you parading yourself around for some random guy I don't even know!" Harry is practically fuming. Tears are streaming down your cheeks when you finally turn around to face the dickhead. Harry almost feels bad.
Almost.
"Are you done, or do you want to call me a whore and a tease some more?" You ask.
"If the shoe fits," He whispers in anger.
"Harry, what the hell, dude," All your friends are grumbling in anger against him.
"What?! What?! How am I still the bad guy?" He asks.
"Harry, do you remember this morning when you were at my house?" You break the moment of silence.
"Well, no shit, yeah."
You hate this side of him.
"We were on the couch, scrolling through my phone. Do you remember what I showed you?" You ask, your head cocking to the side. You're barely holding it together.
"No. Enlighten me," He answers, his voice reeking with sarcasm.
"You remember me showing you pictures of my cousin, telling you how he was in the area and we might see him?"
You visibly see the change in him- the shift back to his soft being.
"Oh, God-" He holds his stomach, as if he was about to get sick. And he does. He's scurrying off to the bathroom before anyone could say anything, and without hesitation, you're following hot on his tail. He's busting through the bathroom, you right behind, getting several questionable looks from the men at the urinals. He sprints into a stall and falls to his knees, you also to collect his hair and rub his back as he gets sick.
"Oh, Harry," You whisper, brushing his stray curls out of his face. Once he's done emptying the alcohol from his body, he's turning to look at you, and he crumbles.
"Fuck, I'm so sorry," He cries, his hands shielding his face as he brings his knees to his chest.
"Har, sweetheart, let's go home," You encourage him, but he doesn't move from his spot on the nasty bathroom floor. You have no choice but to move next to him and hug him into your chest, your throat tightening as you breathe in the girl's fruity perfume radiating off his body.
He prefers floral smells anyways.
"Harry, baby, c'mon," You mumble to him.
"No, no," He whimpers.
"I'll run us a bath, c'mon," You bribe him.
"Us?" He questions, head finally lifting from his hands, and you try your best to ignore his swollen, cheap lip-stick stained lips and cheeks.
"Yeah, let's go, babe," You motivate him, standing and reaching your hand out to him. He carefully slips it into your, giving you a squeeze before finally getting himself off the floor. He's practically clinging to you as you both exit the bar. Once outside, you slip your hand into the pocket of his pants to retrieve his keys. "I'll drive, 'kay?" He nods solemnly and heads to the passenger side of the car. You climb into the driver's side and start the car, revving the loud engine to life. You turn on some light music to fill the silence and start the drive to your house. You feel his eyes on you the entire drive but choose to not comment on it. About halfway through the ride, you feel his hand shakily lay on your thigh, gripping it as if to remind him you're there. You gently place yours on top of his.
Once you've finally placed the car in park, you get out of the car without saying a word. Your anger and annoyance of the situation is settling in, but it doesn't overcloud the commiseration you feel for him. He slowly gets out of the car and mopes to the front door, following you in your steps. You anxiously unlock your door and let the both of you inside. You throw your keys on your entryway table after locking the door. You kick your shoes off at the door, Harry doing the same, and you mope up the stairs. You don't hear his heavy footsteps following, so you turn around to see what he's doing. Your eyes meet his pitiful, puppy-dog ones, and you angle your head up the stairs, suggesting for him to follow you, and he does so slowly.
Once you finally reach your bedroom, you make your way to your bathroom and turn your tub faucet on- the tub that just barely will hold two people. You set the temperature and turn to see Harry cautiously standing in the doorway.
"You sure about this?" He asks, his voice not above a whisper.
You think about it for a moment, more to just be petty.
"Yeah," You whisper back, meeting his eyes. You both stand there awkwardly, suddenly not knowing what to do next, but then your eyes catch sight of the lipstick stains on his lips, cheeks, neck, and upper chest, and you instantly feel the need to get rid of them. You slowly walk towards him and grab his hips- hearing his breath catch- and place him against the bathroom counter. "Stay and brush your teeth while you’re here," You lightly command and go to retrieve a cloth.
You're glad to see Harry’s finishing brushing his teeth when you came back with the cloth and you wet it with the flowing bathtub water, making a mental note to keep an eye on the fullness of the tub. You reach past Harry and put the cloth in the sink before reaching to unbutton his shirt.
"This okay?" You ask.
"Anything you want," He answers. Your quickly flick to his before focusing back on what you were doing. You shed the shirt off his body and toss it carelessly into your room somewhere. The sight of his bare chest makes you want to worship him because, God, he's so beautiful, but then you catch one more glimpse of the tacky lipstick, and those thoughts are pushed to the back of your mind.
You reach past him and grab the damp cloth again and start washing him off. You start with his angelic face. You gently wipe the stains off his cheeks and then his lips, all while seeing tears drowning his eyes. His hands reach out to hold onto your hips, but you push them away.
"Don't touch me until she's washed off of you," You whisper, and his tears fall. He nods lightly. You squeeze his arm gently to let him know you're not trying to hurt him.
Harry feels the worst he's ever in his life. He can see the brokenness in your eyes, and it kills him to know he's the one that made you like this. He's always so soft and gentle with you- talks so sweet with you, and he knows he's scarred you. He acted like a jealous fratboy, and he's disgusted with himself- literally sick to his stomach.
Once you finish cleaning the last of marks off him, you use the towel to wipe his hands off before tossing it to the sink and leaning your forehead against his chest. He sighs contently and runs his fingers through your hair.
"Can still fucking smell her on you," You whimper agitatedly and remove yourself from him.
"'m so sorry," He whispers.
"I know. Just fuckin' hurts," You explain, and he nods in understanding. "I understand, Harry, I do, but I had literally shown you pictures of my cousin this morning! And, I know it seems like I've been leading you on, but I was just so scared of messing everything up between us. Like- if I told you how I feel, you wouldn't feel the same, and everything would just be weird," You explain your side. You genuinely do understand why he did what he did, but it's still inexcusable.
"I was just so angry. I was too busy gawking at you this morning to pay attention, and it's no fuckin' excuse, but I'm completely enamored by you, and it drives me crazy- makes me act crazy. I fuckin' blacked out," He explicates. You sigh and take his hand in yours, rubbing small shapes into his skin.
"I just can't get the image of you and her out of my mind."
Harry exhales loudly in shamefulness. He's about to say something when the sound of water splashing on the floor is heard through the room.
"Ah, shit!" You yell and run to turn the faucet off. Harry scurries to grab towels, both of you having to laugh at the audacity of the situation. You drain some of the water out and turn to face him again with a small smile on your face. "Guess we should get in," You laugh.
Both of you are staring intently at one another as you both start to shed clothes. You've both seen each other in underwear but never bare.
"Still okay with this?" He asks.
"Yes. Are you?"
"Yes."
The final confirmation makes you both strip down to nothing. Neither of you even feel the need to cover yourselves because you're so comfortable with one another. Your eyes drift to places they shouldn't, and they're immediately widening at the sight in front of you.
Harry is thoroughly gifted.
"You're a fucking temptress," He whispers in awe.
"And you, Harry?" You refute. Both of you take a moment to gawk. "Am I the first to see you naked, Harry?"
"Yes," He whispers bashfully.
"What a reward that is," You establish.
"Stop," He softly laughs, and you allow yourself to laugh with him.
"Uh- let's get in before the water gets cold," You suggest, and he nods his head in subconscious agreement. He anxiously holds out his hand to you, and you slowly put yours in his. It's familiar and warm and eases some of your worries. You wish you had more will power to stay angry with him, but the way he looks at you makes you crumble. You're sweet, soft boy is eating himself up inside, and you can see it on his face.
He steps in first, making sure the water wouldn't burn your beautiful skin and leads you in too. He sits down against the back of the tub and gently puts his hands on your waist to bring you to sit down, leaning against his chest.
"Is- Is this okay?" He asks, arms floating awkwardly in the air because he doesn't know what to do with himself anymore.
He doesn't ever want to hurt you again.
"Yes, Harry, it's okay," You sigh and lean against him. The hot water makes him feel even warmer than he usually is, and you relish in it. You try to make yourself comfortable, but you can't with how tense Harry is. You take a deep breath and take his hands in yours and wrap them around your stomach. "Breathe, H," You whisper and turn to the side, nudging your nose against his jaw. You feel him take a few deep breaths, and you're both sinking farther into the water as he relaxes. "There you go, sweet boy," You mumble and rub your hands against his.
"Can't call me that," He finally speaks.
"And why not?" You ask, turning your neck a bit to see his face.
"'Cause I'm not." He says so quietly you could barely hear.
"Harry-"
"No, Y/N. I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am. I-" He pauses to take a deep breath. "I fucking made you cry," He chokes.
You pause for a moment, not quite sure how to respond because yes, he did say incredibly awful things and act out of line, but his feelings were valid.
"Yeah, never raised your voice at me like that before," You mutter.
"And I won't ever again," He answers, his voice growing stronger as does his arms around your waist. "Best thing that's ever happened to me, and I go and fuck it up."
You turn around so your straddling his waist. You notice he visibly blushes, and his hands are, once again, lost in the air. You stifle a laugh and drag them to your sides, giving them a squeeze.
"Yeah, you were an ass tonight," You comply, leaning in to kiss his cheek.
"The biggest," He whimpers in self pity.
"The meanest." You kiss his other cheek.
"Stupidest," He mutters, sighing when you place against the middle of his throat.
"But you want me?" You clarify.
"Need," He corrects. "Never needed or wanted anyone other than you. Didn't think I could have you, so I tried to settle for lesser."
"Much less," You softly giggle.
"Much, much. Didn't even smell good. It was like kissing a pineapple." You both laugh at that.
"Very funny, but I don't want to think or hear about her ever again," You sigh, resting the side of your forehead in the crook of his neck, and he brings his hands to gently slide up and down your back.
"Only person in the world for me. Only person ever," He mutters and kisses the side of your head.
And you both stay like that for awhile, just breathing each other in after so long of wanting until you feel something hardening between your legs.
"Um, Harry," You quietly giggle.
"What?" He asks, confused as to why you're breaking the sweet moment to laugh at him. You lift your brows to say 'really?' and quickly adjust your hips over him, so he knows what you're talking about. "Oh, fuck," He whimpers and stares wide-eyed at you. "Shit- I'm so sorry-" He hides his red face in his hands.
"What are you apologizing for? I'm flattered, babe," You say, still laughing.
"Then why are you laughing," He whines against his palms.
"Jeez, sensitive little thing," You exasperate and take his hands off his face, keeping them in your hands instead. He glares at your jibes and mutters something inaudible under his breath. "What was that?" You ask, taunting. Something shifts in his eyes, like he's done putting up with your jokes. And very suddenly, his hand leaves yours and is now wrapped around your throat. Your eyes are bulging out of your head, and your mouth is dropped open out of surprise.
"I said you won't be laughing very much if I just slipped it inside, huh?" His voice is condensing and so much like nothing you've ever heard him sound like before. "What? Nothing to say?" You almost want to laugh at how dominant he's trying to be. A smile slips, and you immediately feel his grip on your throat tighten deliciously. "I know you're wet. Even through the water, I know you're turned on. You know how I know that?" He questions.
"How, Harry?" You whisper, eyes drifting to his lips every few seconds.
"Because I'm your best fucking friend. Isn't that right, Y/N?" He laughs sadistically, and the heat between your legs grows.
"You're more," You say and grip his arm that's holding your neck. You run your fingers gently up and down his arm, trying to break his dominance, and it works.
"My precious girl," He whispers, eyes drowsier and heart beating faster. His hand moves to hold the side of your face instead, and now it's your opportunity to take dominance over him. Your hand now wraps around his throat, tighter than he was holding yours. A gasp slips through his submissive lips.
"Don't think that with a little bit of choking I'll be falling submissive to you. You're still very, very bad," You clarify. He whimpers and nods his head, lips puckered. "What's with the pout?"
"I want- I wanna-"
"What? Spit it out."
"A kiss," He whispers, face inching closer to yours.
"A kiss?" You laugh. "I don't want your shared lips anywhere close to my untouched ones."
"Y/N," He cries, face ducking into your shoulder. He lightly nips at the crook of your neck.
"Hey! Knock it off, wolf boy," You both laugh.
"Then let me fucking kiss you. I've waited so, so, so long," He whines, head hitting the wall of the tub in dramatics.
"Should've waited a little longer, and it would've been my lips on yours, not someone else, huh?" You taunt.
"Thought you wanted to forget about it," He complains.
"I do, but you shouldn't get off without any teasing," You explain. He huffs and nods his head. "C'mon, let's get out. The water's getting cold."
Once you're both out and dried off, you lead him into your bedroom and onto your bed. Neither of you bother to put on clothes as the sexual tension is high. You sit on the side as you watch him approach you.
"Y/N," He mumbles, standing above you with hunger and pleading in his eyes. "I want to touch you," He begs.
"Do you deserve to?" You question. He huffs a whine and falls to his knees in front of you. His head falls to your knees. "Harry-"
"Please," He begs, his hands circling your calves to keep a hold on you. You're at a loss of what to do. No man has ever actually gotten on his knees and begged for you. Your hands find his hair and thread lightly through it. He basically purrs and moves his head farther up to your thighs. Your breath shakes as you feel him breathe into your thighs. "Please," He begs again, drawing out the word longer this time. When he thinks he's caught you off guard, his head moves farther up, and his hands separate your thighs. You gasp and right as his tongue is about to make contact with your pussy, your grabbing his hair by the roots and yanking him away as far as he'd let. He's still incredibly close, and you can feel him panting against you.
"Nice try, slut," You breathe and tug on his roots again.
"Just let me please you," He pleads, voice gruff.
"Don't act like you're doing this just to please me. Know you're just a starved man trying to get what he wants," You correct him.
"Fuck it, so I'm selfish. I don't care," He says, his voice getting stronger. When you don't let up, he goes for what he wants again. He snatches your wrists in his hand and holds them against your stomach, and before you can shut your thighs, he's pushing his face in between them, finally getting what he's wanted for years.
"Harry!" You moan loudly, trying to get your hands from his hold, but it's no use. He won't let you win this time, and you submit to the pleasure he's giving you willingly. He feels you release your tension and smiles against you.
"Good girl. Just enjoy it," He mumbles and dives back in. He lets go of your wrists and spreads your thighs apart even farther, making you scooch back on the bed to give him more access. His tongue is everywhere all at once, and the noises he's making makes it seem as if he's enjoying it more than you.
"That's so fucking good," You moan as he sucks your clit into his mouth and nips on it gently. Having never done this before, he's going off of his animalistic desires, and it feels heavenly. He's just doing what his instincts tell him to. His tongue moves farther down to your soaking hole, and he pushes it in as far as it can go and circles it inside of you, his nose pressed into your clit as he shakes his head vigorously side-to-side. "Holy shit, you're insane," You cry and fall back against your bed.
"Take it," He grunts and somehow opens your legs farther.
"You're crazy," You laugh in pleasure and place your hands in his hair again. He's grunting and moaning, and the vibrations add to the bliss you feel. He laps around your entrance for a minute before going back to your clit and flicking it fast with his tongue. You almost lose it completely when you feel one of his fingers tease your entrance. Your eyes meet his, and you nod in silent agreement. He doesn't waste a second before pushing it slowly into you, his eyes widening at the feeling.
"Fuck, it's tight," He moans.
"Think about it being your big dick instead," You moan, and he whines. "Make me cum, and I'll think about letting you put it in," You stutter and relish in whatever he gives you.
"Fuckin' watch me," He grunts and doubles down. He suddenly adds another finger and doesn't give you time to adjust before rapidly pushing it in and out of you with his tongue still flicking against your clit.
"Fuck, baby." Your moans are uncontrollable, and you feel your stomach tightening in euphoria. It feels stronger than anything you've ever felt, and you try to push the crazed man away.
"Don't you fucking dare," He practically growls when you try to push him away by the forehead.
"It's too m-much," You moan and continue to try to slow him down with a weak attempt.
"C'mon, angel. You're about to cum. Just take it," He encourages you and gets back to work.
"H-Harry, I think I'm gonna-" You're cut off by a loud moan escaping your lips and the dam breaks. You're squirming away from him, but he doesn't let you go as you orgasm. You feel as though you see through space and time as you cum because has ever felt so good but so strong. He takes all that you give him and doesn't let up. Luckily, his hands now hold on strongly to your hips because the extra penetration was almost too much to enjoy.
He always knows exactly what you need.
His tongue slows as you come down, but it never leaves.
"Harry, please, let me breathe," You weakly laugh and once again try to push him away, but he grunts in return.
"Let me finish," You hear him mumble. His tongue moves to your leaking hole and licks up whatever he can find, letting nothing go to waste. "Tastes fucking incredible," He moans. "Can't believe you've been keeping this from me. Greedy woman," He slurs.
"Enough," You whine and move away from him, closing your legs. He groans and moves to kiss his way up your body instead. "You've done that before," You accuse him.
"No, just dreamt of it for so long," He corrects and kisses your cheek. You slightly spread your legs to let him lay on top of you. The feeling of his weight on top of you feels incredible. He allows you to calm down and continues to pepper kisses against you.
"It's your turn," You smile against his forehead and press a quick kiss to it before flipping you both over. You lay on the bed on your side, facing him and gawk at the sight in front of you. His dick is practically weeping, and your mouth waters in excitement. It's perfect. It's long and thick and incredibly hard. The biggest you've seen by far.
"Don't want you to do anything you're uncomfortable with or don't want to do," He whispers shyly, and you want to laugh at how quick he becomes submissive.
"Trust me, I want to," You assure him. "Look how pretty you are," You mumble and press a kiss to his jaw as you run your fingers lightly up and down his stomach. He blushes furiously and juts his lips out, aching for a kiss. You smile instead and gently run your fingers around his cock. He gasps in surprise and moans sweetly. You kiss all around his stomach as you begin to jerk him off slowly- really making him feel everything.
"It's so good, oh my God," He moans.
"Yeah?" You ask, and he nods his head, eyes clouded with submission.
"Let me put it in," He whimpers, and you laugh.
"So needy," You whisper and give him a harsh squeeze that makes him moan loudly. You're glad he's not shy about the noises he makes. It's so hot.
"What if it's just the tip?" He pleads. "I'll just put the tip in. Just wanna feel you- be close," He's babbling almost incoherently, and you shush him quietly.
"I guess that's okay. Just the tip, though," You remind him and lay on your back, signaling for him to lay over you. He does so quickly and takes his cock in his hand. He runs it all over your pussy to get himself wet and teases your entrance with the head. You squeeze his jaw in your fingers to grab his attention. "Just the tip."
"Yes, yes, okay," He rushes out. He meets your eyes, and you nod your head encouragingly. He breathes heavily before pushing just barely in.
Even the tip is a stretch.
"Oh my God," He cries into your neck, and you rub his back soothingly as you try to contain yourself. "Please, just a little more," He begs.
"Don't be greedy," You stutter, and this feels more like a punishment for the both of you. He groans and bites onto your shoulder to hold himself still. The primal need to sink into your tight, warm, wet pussy is high, and he doesn't know how much longer he can do it. He moves his hips slightly so the tip slides out. He rubs it over you again, slapping your clit lightly with it before pressing the head of it into you again. He pleases the two of you like this for a minute.
The thing is, his cock is so big it's hard to tell how much he's giving you. Even the tip is so thick that it feels like he's pushing a few inches in, so when you're suddenly gasping out because his pelvis is flush against you, it takes you by surprise. And it takes you more by surprise when you hear his loud moan after finally being all the way inside of you and then feel his heavy load spurting far into you.
"Holy fuck," He's moaning uncontrollably, and you're just laying there in awe. You watch as he orgasms and sit watching him until he comes down. You don't even have the heart to continue punishing him anymore as you see the tears running down his cheeks. You hug him into your neck and softly moan as he allows his weight to press against you. "'M'sorry," He whispers. "Want to make you feel good too."
"You've already done so, so good, Harry."
"No, just give me a minute. I'll be ready to go again," He assures you.
"Okay," You giggle and already gasp at feeling him hardening inside you again.
"Just run your fingers through my hair, angel," He whispers, and you follow his orders. He was right. You feel his cock hard as rock inside of you again in no time.
"You too sensitive, or can you keep going?" You ask, making sure he's okay to continue.
"Please, I can go all night," He says cockily, giving you a sly smile. He lifts himself up a bit so he can start moving in and out of you slowly and sensually.
"Oh, God, it's so good," You cry, feeling so full of him. "You're so big- fucking everywhere."
"I know, baby, just take it for me," He whispers lovingly and presses a kiss to your cheek. He's not sure if you still don't want him to kiss you, so he makes due.
"Harry, God, please kiss me," You whine.
"A-are you sure?" He pants. He's trying so hard not to cum again.
"Yes, yes, yes," You plead and cup his cheeks. He leans down, softly placing his lips against yours, and it feels like both of your worlds stop. He's still moving slowly in and out of you, and it adds to the sensuality of the moment. Nothing's ever felt so good, and both of you are both stunned by the intensity of the moment. He finally has to part for air, but you're whining and trying to pull him back. He notices tears running down your cheeks, and he stops his movements.
"Hey, hey. Y/N, are you okay?" He asks, voice filled with concern.
"So good," You assure him. "Just- it's so intense," You cry and wrap your arms around him.
"I know, sweet girl. I feel it too," He whispers, a tear leaking from his eye onto your cheek, and you both smile. He starts moving again when he has your consent, and it feels like the intensity is making you both start to approach your orgasms. He leans down to kiss you again and starts moving a bit faster.
"Harry," You continue to moan.
"Fuck, I love you. Can I say it now? My cock is deep inside you, so I guess it's okay, huh?"
"Oh, God. I love you too," You cry and feel his cock throb inside you. "I'm gonna cum."
"Me too," He whispers and connects your lips once again as you both orgasm simultaneously. It's like nothing either of you have ever felt before, and it makes it that much stronger.
He lies down on top of you once you've both finished. You're both panting heavily.
"I belong to you," He whispers and circles his arms around your waist.
"I'm yours," You whisper back.
21 please
It’s a long one! Hope you like it! Happy Friday! 💓 💓
Prompt: Do you know how hard I’m trying not to kiss you right now?”
[17] Don’t make me answer that.
They promised each other they’d stop.
And more importantly, they promised themselves they’d stop.
Stop just this and continue the rest.
So they’re giving it a shot now. A real one. A real go at keeping things strictly friendly like they always were, friends, mates…friends who don’t fuck each other or fool around with needy and grabby hands or hungry mouths. They’re trying.
It shouldn’t be hard because they are friends. Good ones at it too. Started off as just good friends with many things in common, friends who laugh at the same things and who did things normal friends did. It shouldn’t have been a problem to revert back to their old ways. To take out the new part where they make each other come and just do the friend bits. But as of recent they’ve forgotten or willingly forgotten what friends are, just friends are.
So their definitions are all blurry and the lines are fuzzy, smudged and crossed over.
But they promised.
But Harry’s also aching for a place to put his hands. She’s right there and he can’t touch her and his hands don’t like the new idea or the new policy. His hands have already gotten used to her, he’s gotten so used to her like this and he’s been cut off so suddenly.
She’s the one keeping him in line though. Reminding him that no they can’t try this or that position for educational purposes this time or because he wants to test something out. (They’re always testing new ideas and techniques out on each other, their curious minds mixed with their love of sex take them to interesting places.) But they promised. And no they can’t do it just once more, for the last time because he didn’t know that last time would be the last. They’re stopping now. He promised her.
It was her idea and Harry agreed just because. Well not just because but because it was her idea. She wanted to stop so of course he followed. He’d rather stop what they’re doing than not have her around at all.
But she too is having a hard time getting used to the new rules. It’s more confusion than anything. They’ve been doing what they’ve doing for so long that they’ve forgotten about the friends part. About the things they did as just friends. About the time before this. So she doesn’t know what to with her hands or with herself either.
They’re sitting with a film in the background and they’re both confused and have no idea what to do. Actually watch the film? They don’t remember or aren’t used to this anymore. Just watching the film. Not watching it with his hand down her jeans or her bum wiggles against his crotch that drove him mad until he had to have her. He’s used to the film being forgotten in the background as he drives into her. And she’s used to only hearing her whines and his moans instead of the actual film. She’s used to the film being background noise to their own noises.
“Can we start tomorrow?” He asks.
“You said that yesterday.” She sighs.
“Why have we got to suffer?”
“M’not suffering, I like this film. You’d like it too if you’d watch it instead of watching me.”
“Would like it a whole lot better if while—”
“M’not blowing you. We have to give this our best effort.”
“Who said anything about blowing—”
“What were you going to say?”
“Never mind.” He grins.
“S’what I thought.” Does he really think she doesn’t know him by now? She might be the only one who really does.
“What if—”
“No.”
“Didn’t even hear what I was going to say!”
“Can’t lick me out either.”
“What am I allowed to do then!”
“Watch the bloody film!”
“Don’t want to.” He huffs in annoyance.
“We used to be able to do that!” She raises her voice because she’s annoyed. Annoyed at herself, him and the situation. They should have stayed the way they were. Now this is just a mess. They’re all tangled up. They can’t even watch a film!
“Yeah and then I found out you’ve got the fuckin tightest—”
“Don’t finish that sentence.” She whines.
“I miss you!”
“M’right here!”
She almost wants to ask if it’s just her body that he’s missing but she knows that isn’t true and he’d feel hurt by that.
She just doesn’t want to admit that she might just miss him too and not the physical aspect of it at all. They’re different then, when they’re doing the things they’re refraining from now. A good different. He gives her all of himself and she gives him every piece of her. It feels whole. Like something real that could actually be something.
But they’re still giving this a go. At stopping. Not failing at it (yet) but struggling with it. Doing all the things they always did minus the fucking. It shouldn’t be this hard. But it is. Fucking hell it is.
It’s not that he expects this, expects a fuck out of her every time he sees her. He’s just confused and worried as to why they’ve stopped as fast as they started. That maybe he’s missed something. The part where she never wanted this. Or maybe she never liked any of it.
It’s tough now because they’re used to it and it was fun, it was a whole lot of fun.
It’s about withdrawals.
Those are the worst. That’s what’s getting them the most.
“Do you know how hard m’trying not to kiss you.” He whines.
“It isn’t going to be just that though.” She pulls the cork out from the wine bottle on the table in front of them. She’s going to need another drink for this one. “First it’s that and then it’s something more…s’the problem.” She pours a good amount into her glass. They don’t know how to stop or where to draw the line anymore because it’s been walked over so many times it’s now smudged and illegible.
“Can I at least have you on my lap? You look silly sitting all the way over there.”
They’ve always been friends and somehow one day the idea or offer was brought up and they’ve been going at it ever since. It was said as a joke at first, thrown into the universe without any expectations. But then there was a shift in his eyes and then she was actually thinking about it. And then she was under him begging for it and he was dizzy with how much he wanted to give it to her. And just like that she’s put an end to it now.
“If you try anything—”
“Wont.”
“Because I’ll give in and you know that.”
“S’hard for you too?” He asks genuinely surprised. He isn’t the only one struggling with this, she’s got a need in her too. He wouldn’t have known, she’s got a will in her and her eyes are telling him nothing.
“It’s hard.” She admits. “M’not just talking about you.” She grins refraining from pushing her bum against him to feel just how much, even though she really wants to.
“You’ve got a way of doing that love.” He grins against the back of her neck before kissing along it.
“Gosh you’re a menace, told you not to try anything.” She groans. “Put them away.” She means his lips. And when he stops, pulls away from her heated skin she’s both relieved and empty at the same time.
“You didn’t like it?” He finally gathers to get the courage to ask. “What we were doing all the time…”
“Where’d you get that from? You have me screaming for you each time.”
“Why are we doing this then?” He’s asking because he’s genuinely curious. When she brought up stopping he agreed to it because she wanted to cool it down. He didn’t like the idea one bit but he agreed to it if meant that he could still see her. Still have her around. Still have her, with him.
He didn’t think it’d be hard because he never thought they’d come to a full stop like this. But it’s proving harder than he thought. (Well he never though it’d be easy but he also didn’t think they’d ever stop…)
“Hm?” She asks turning to him slightly from the screen.
“You just wanted us to stop but you didn’t say why. Didn’t explain anything.”
“I don’t know Harry…” She wiggles out of his grasp slightly.
“Yeah you do.” He doesn’t let her off that easily. “You wouldn’t have stopped it if you didn’t know why.”
“We’ve forgotten what friends are.”
“No we haven’t.” He argues.
“Yes we have. We used to do things.”
“We do things!”
“Other things! Not those things.” She reminds him.
“Those are still things!”
“We don’t know what we’re doing or what we are.” She admits. “When we were friends who weren’t fuckin each other we were friends who weren’t fuckin each other. Real friends. Now we’re what exactly?”
“We’re friends, always have been.”
“Know that.” She smiles. “But what are we when we’re messing around? Friends still?”
“Really good friends.” He grins.
“M’being serious.” She looks at him sternly.
“So am I.”
“Are you?” She asks.
“You’re saying we’ve got to choose.”
“At some point yes,” she leans back against him. “Doesn’t have to be now but that’s why we’re stoping whatever it was we were doing for a bit until we do.”
“I can do plenty of thinking whilst we—”
“No you can’t. You wont be thinking clearly. I wont be thinking clearly that’s why we’re stopping.”
“You’re such a mum—”
“M’being responsible!”
“You’re not telling me something!”
“I don’t want this to get messy Harry. It will if we keep going at it. And then we’ll fight, we will. I can already see it. This isn’t going to end well, it can’t possibly end well.”
“Haven’t fought once since we started.”
“We will.”
“Why stop now then? Before our big fight that m’not even sure we’ll have.” He knows he can’t argue with her. He won’t be able to. She’s got that look, those eyes that make apologizes spill from his mouth without noticing.
“Because I don’t want to fight with you whenever that’ll be. We’ve got more things to fight about if we keep going.”
“How’s that?”
She doesn’t want to say it. Or ask it. But this isn’t going to be understandable or clear if she doesn’t say any of it.
“What if it isn’t just us friends fuckin anymore?”
“Feelings and all that?” He asks.
“Feelings and all that.” She answers. “You know when you used to come home and we’d go out and walk for a bit, or just sit around for hours?”
“Yeah.”
“Now I come straight to yours or you come straight to mine and we’re both naked within minutes.” She takes another sip of her wine but it doesn’t seem to be doing anything.
“That’s not all we do!”
“Harry—”
“I miss you when m’gone.” He says. He really does miss her.
“But you’ve got friends you do nothing with.” She reminds him.
“And?”
“Who are you coming home to me as Harry?” She finally asks because she has to know.
“Don’t make me answer that.”
“M’making you.” She doesn’t let him ignore it. He will answer this one.
“Meant what I said about missing you.”
“I know.” She assures him because she does believe that.
“Not just your body or how you taste.”
“I know that.” She promises. “Still doesn’t answer my question though.”
“I don’t know how to answer it.” He admits. “We’re good, we’re really good love. Whatever this, whatever we’ve got going on. It’s good.”
“Answer the question.”
“You’re the first person I see the second I land.” He says. He knows what that means, what’s behind it but he’s not going to be the first one to say anything. “What does that say?”
“I don’t know!” She whines. “That’s why m’so confused!” And he understands it, it’s pretty understandable that she’d be confused. He is too sometimes. Doesn’t know what to call her or introduce her as. Because they might as well be a couple. They look like one, do everything like one. But they aren’t.
“Have you got feelings for me?” He asks boldly. Might as well if they’re already rolling with all of this.
“Harry—”
“I can’t ask the hard questions now?”
She stills against him, opening her mouth but closing it just as fast. He turns her, makes her face him because these types of questions need answers.
He doesn’t want her confused, he doesn’t want to be confused. He doesn’t want to wreck any of this, have her run off either.
“M’waiting.” He reminds her that he isn’t going to let this one go.
“Wait all you want.”
“Say it.” He urges her. “Say what you’re thinking. Whatever it is.”
“M’not saying anything first!” She finally looks up at him.
“Say what first?” He grins.
“You’re a real ass you know that?”
“Say it love.” He pulls her closer to him in the straddle around his hips and she’s got to nowhere to go anyway. And she doesn’t necessarily want to run from this either because this is what she’s been needing. Answers to the questions and no tangles. “Nothing bad’s gonna happen, promise. You’re still my best friend either way. Always are.”
She’s still going to be his best friend if they stop all this and go back to how they were. And she’s still going to be his best friend if they decide to try something for the first time. A real go at the thing they’ve never tried.
He’s waiting for that opportunity to say that if she wants to have at this, give this a real shot he’ll give it everything he’s got. But she hasn’t presented the narrative for that just yet.
“I think, and m’sayin think instead of know because I don’t know what you’re thinking or if you’re thinking anything at all…so I think I love you.”
And he grins but her stomach still feels like it’s dropped to her bum and her heart beat is something to worry about. He’s still grinning though and she might be shaking but she keeps looking at him anyway.
“Well that’s a relief isn’t it? Would be fuckin painful if I didn’t love you back.”
“You’re the worst.” She groans. “Absolute fuckin wor—
She doesn’t get to complete her sentence. Tell him how awful he is, that he’s the absolute worst which he isn’t…because her lips are far too occupied with his. She told him to put them away didn’t she? But that was then, when he wasn’t the worst and she hadn’t said anything yet. Things have changed since then.
Things are changed.
Badboy harry dropping barista off at work on his bike with a little 💋💋💋
🏍➕☕➡️💋💋💋👀
the multiple requests….yall trying to kill me…….
…
“Oh my god, I’m never doing that again.”
Harry laughs as he turns off his motorcycle and climbs off, taking off his helmet and shaking out his hair. “Was it that bad, baby?”
“It was terrifying!” You don’t get off the bike yet. Instead, you press your hand to your heaving chest, and try to steady your breathing. “Never again.”
“You just have to get used to it.” Harry chuckles as he sets his helmet on his bike. “C’mere, let me help you with the helmet.”
Keep reading
Meus Amor (Hogwarts!Harry)
(Banner by the lovely @pretty-hazza)
***
Series Masterlist
***
Platform 9 ¾ feels gloomier this year, at least that’s how Harry seems to find it. The worried looks on parents’ faces as they watch their children board the train makes him uneasy, especially when he hears their crude whispers and spiteful glares when he walks past them. “That’s the Styles boy, you want to steer clear of him,” they say as though he isn’t only meters away from where they stand. He chooses to ignore it though, at least that way he can pretend that he isn’t the son of a fucking wanted criminal.
Keep reading
Imagine you're riding Harry and when he's cums, his stomach is clenching so hard and his butterfly tattoo is just wiggling on his tummy
So let’s say Harry just got out of the shower.
He comes out with a towel wrapped around his hips, using another one to dry his hair and back. He’s rubbing it over his broad shoulders as he pads barefoot over to his cabinets, digging for a pair of briefs as he scrubs his skin dry. You’re watching from the bed, where you had been watching a rerun episode of Baby Daddy, but Harry’s much more interesting at the moment.
His back muscles flex as he reaches behind him as far as possible, trying to rid his skin of all the wetness, shoulders and arms going taut as he works the linen over his body, tattoos wiggling and stretching along with his movements.
Harry walks over to the edge of the bed, plopping down next to you and you catch a glimpse downwards, the towel around his waist shifting lower on his hips to expose the beginning of his pubes. And he knows exactly what he’s doing, the smug smirk on his ruby lips showing it off perfectly.
He leans forward on his palms, giving you a slow once-over as his hair is damp and matted to his neck, his skin smelling of Tom Ford aftershave and Dove bar soap. “D'you think you can help me dry my hair, pet?”
Keep reading
Drive Me Wild
- where Harry has a problem expressing emotions, and Y/n talks too much
Masterlist
A/N: mentions of drug and alcohol abuse, indications of depression, and a very mild form of smut (if we can really call it that)
Song mentioned: Invisible String by Taylor Swift
-
December 23, 2016
“Do you even have feelings for me?”
Celeste was sitting across the booth at their local diner, a half-empty mug of hot chocolate left stale at the table top, her eyes wet and cold just like the December she’d been trying so desperately to feel warm in.
Harry had his hands held together in front of him, his eyes void and stare blank as his mind played back to all the times he’d given his all to her. Sure, he didn’t always do it with a smile on his face or with lovestruck eyes, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t happy.
And how could she not see it? How could she not feel it? He didn’t even bother spending his time with anybody else because he didn’t like anybody else. She was his only company, his only kiss, his only friend.
How was that not enough?
“What would make you think that I don’t?”
She laughed, right in his face, like it wasn’t enough to tear him apart.
“You’re kidding me, right?” She looked serious then, her face fallen and lips frowned. He felt stupid because he must have done something he couldn’t remember, or something to blindly hurt her feelings, yet he had no idea what it was. They were doing so good. “Do you even know how you look at me? Like I’m not even here. Like I’m boring you half to death. I can’t even tell what you’re feeling right now.”
Broken, sad, confused. He wanted to tell her that — he really did — but what would it have mattered? He’d still have that same meaningless stare and that same emptiness that had brought them to that very moment. She wouldn’t believe him even if she wanted to.
And it shouldn’t have broken him as much as it did, considering they weren’t even dating — just testing the waters, feeling each other out, wondering if their dreams could ever belong in their reality — but it hurt him just the same. She was the closest thing to a girlfriend Harry ever had, after all.
“Talking to you is like — it’s like talking to a wall. You’re just… there.”
She stopped to look at him more intentionally then — maybe she had missed something all along. Maybe, there was something he did to show the smallest of his emotions, like a shift in his eye, a pitch in his breath, a quiver of his lip.
But just like every other time, there was nothing. He was incurably empty.
“I think you’ve laughed at something I’ve said maybe, five times?” She let out a breathy chuckle because the tension was so thick she could hardly keep herself together, and she was so nervous, and he was so unpredictable. “And then you have this way with your words where, like you say certain things to beat around the bush about how you truly feel about me, and then it makes me wonder if it’s because you don’t even feel that way at all.”
He wanted to argue with her so bad. He wanted so badly to prove to her how wrong she was but how could he have, when she was so right?
Nobody had ever taught him how to do that — the relationships, the emotions, the vulnerability that came with being human. He couldn’t even recall a single time his parents had laughed at something he had said — couldn’t recall his parents ever having friends over, having date nights, even smiling at one another.
And to make matters worse, he was an only child. He was constantly around the voidance of his parents, the empty conversations, the pit of silences — really, that was all he had ever known. And later, that was what he grew into.
And if he could have changed it, he would have. But how does one go from keeping it all inside, to letting it all out?
He’s tried it all — emptying bottles of wine, smoking down blunts, shoving pills down his throat — and still couldn’t he laugh alongside himself, smile at memories that haven’t let him go, pour his heart out to strangers.
That wasn’t him. That wasn’t who he was supposed to be, no matter how hard he tried to be that person for her.
But again, why wasn’t that enough?
“But I’m here, aren’t I?”
Celeste looked at him like it was the last time she was ever going to. And he knew.
“I don’t think you want to be.”
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