Harry Styles Masterlist - Tumblr Posts

fic rec

-my personal favorites

fluff

shawn mendes

falling for you by @imagine-that-100

the harvard hoodie by @carliehansonwya

your cheeks by @mendes-soldier97

face mask & other things by @honeymndes

the green room by @literallyshawn

hands by @queen-glamorous

art!major shawn by @daddyshawns

tom holland

reader brings bubba to set by @blissfulparker

somewhat breakfast in bed by @spiderboytotherescue

harry styles

no sympathy by @cocochannel00

angst

tom holland

waiting and wanting by @spiderboytotherescue

without a word by @holland-ish

masterlist

shawn mendes

@idk-mendes‘s masterlist

@shawnsweetheart‘s masterlist

@ffsshawn‘s masterlist

@heartopen-testify masterlist 

@softboyshawn‘s masterlist

@curlsofshawn‘s masterlist 

@sauveteen‘s masterlist

@dylshoney‘s masterlist

@redrebecca‘s masterlist 

@shawnjpeg‘s masterlist

@fallinallincurls‘s masterlist 

@shawnm521‘s masterlist 

@shit-to-kinda-okay‘s masterlist 

@randxmthxughts‘s masterlist 

@sowhatshawn‘s masterlist 

@didafull180‘s masterlist 

harry styles

@harryandmolly‘s masterlist

@harrysgoldenline‘s masterlist 

@pendantstyles‘s masterlist 

tom holland

@hey-marlie‘s masterlist

@toppaazzz‘s masterlist

@waitimcomingtoo‘s masterlist 

@messagefromtheveins ‘s masterlist

@sweetlysilent‘s masterlist 

note: some of the stories i put are deleted by tumblr and i dont know why

updated:

01-10-20

01-11-20

fic rec 2

mad-my most like posts is the fic rec, i decided to make part 2. enjoyyy

harry styles

king of eroda by @spacesbetweenthe-clouds

The one where everyone is tired of catching you and Harry having sex by @harrysroleindunkirk

tom holland

heart eyes by @madmadmilk

protective tessa by @peteparkerspooderman 

I started this but I didn’t finished it, I don’t want it to be in my drafts forever so I’m gonna post it.

Now I need y/n to hump a pillow but Harry walked in on her but stay quiet

bet 😵‍💫😵‍💫

She had been so turned on all day. Maybe it was because she was nearing her monthly, or maybe it was because Harry hadn’t been home all fucking day to take care of her.

She fucked herself in the bed, in the shower, even used a shower head and it still was not the same as when Harry fucked her. She needed something more than this.

She laid in her bed, playing on her phone with a pillow between her legs as she scrolled mindlessly. She tried so hard to take her mind off of being so turned on all day, but it wasn’t working.

She let out a whine, throwing her phone to the side in defeat. A sigh left her lips as she adjusted her hips, the pillow suddenly hitting against her clit. She let out a soft breath at the sudden feeling.

To contemplate, she didn’t know what to think. Was it the pillow, or was she still so turned on that it just felt good when she moved?

Her eyes bored into the pillow, blinking hard. She looked up at the cracked door, listening to see if Harry had came home yet. She didn’t really know how long it was gonna be till he came home.

Adjusting her hips, she rolled onto her back and placing the pillow between her spread legs. Fucking a pillow? Definitely about to get checked off her list of things she never thought she would do.

Her eyes fluttered shut, her hips started to rock against the pillow as her hands had a tight grip against the cushion to put some force onto her clit.

A moan spilled past her lips, toes curled as she started to hump the pillow slowly. Her clit throbbed, feeling her arousal starting to make a mess in her underwear.

“Oh, harry,” She whined out, pinching her eyes shut tightly, “P-Please, keep fucking me—“ She gulped out, lips parted as she rutted against the cushion harder.

She thought she was alone. She thought she was gonna be able to get away with this, but Harry had came home a few minutes after she started.

Harry didn’t know she was needy. He had no idea. She hadn’t texted him anything dirty today, but she also knew that he was in meetings all day and not to disturb him.

He came in quietly, given it was late and he didn’t know if his lover was even awake at this time. He tiptoed up the stairs quietly, a sigh leaving past his lips as he brushed his curls out of his face.

Sounds of moans bellowed through the hallway, Harry’s brow perking up in curiosity. He approached the bedroom door, peaking through it and his jaw slowly dropped as he saw his girl fucking her pillow.

“Just like that! Fuck!” She whined out. At this point, she was so overwhelmed with pleasure that she had stripped naked and was on top of the pillow.

Her hips ground against the pillow, her fingers playing with her nipples. Pinching. Flicking. Rubbing. She cried out in pleasure as the cushion rubbed against her clit in ways that she needed.

Harry pressed his forehead against the door frame, his stomach started to twist as he watched his girl get herself off on a pillow. He couldn’t help but watch. Was it weird? No. He didn’t think so. She watched him do almost the exact same thing, and the ending result was her riding his cock until he was blinded by his orgasm.

This wasn’t any different.

He felt his cock twitch in his pants, his fingers rested against the doorknob as she spilled out moans, groans, cusses and even spilling his own name out of her mouth.

“I’m cumming! Fuck me!” She whined out, her body tensing as her fingers met the inside of her mouth. She started to suck her fingers feverishly, riding her orgasm out into the pillow.

Harry’s cheeks were red with arousal. He was so turned on, watching her fuck herself. Her fingers in her mouth while she flicked at her nipples.

He blinked hard, taking a step back from the door before going back downstairs. He didn’t know how to approach her after that, but he was definitely going to bring it up later tonight before he decides to drill her into the bed.

variety, 2020.

sunflowerkissess masterlist

Hi! Welcome to my blog! I write primarily for Harry Styles: I’ve been a fan of his since 2019 when I saw him on SNL. I’d like to keep my works on here only and now on wattpad. And I don’t give permission for anyone to repost any of my work on any other website! And please reblog not only my work but other’s as well since we write for free, and it gets work spread around!

Enjoy!

* - indicates smut 

Harry Styles 

One Shots:

mateo, harry, and y/n one shots: not in chronological order

poor sick baby - mateo gets sick and harry has to take care of him until y/n gets home from work (year based in 2019)

car sick - being on the road for indio for coachella seems to take a toll on little mateo, causing his parents to be concerned (year based in 2022)

one angry voicemail -  mateo left harry an angry voicemail for not answering his nightly routine of calling harry before he went to bed, giving harry the thing that was missing for one of his songs in his new album (year based in 2020 & 2021)

alone time * - a three year old mateo spends the night at anne’s house so harry and y/n can have a date night for themselves (year based in 2018)

just like daddy | coachella weekend two - just cute moments backstage before harry goes on stage for coachella weekend two 

terrible twos - after harry finished his first world tour. y/n, him, and a two year old mateo go to cabo for james corden’s birthday. however, it’s not easy when there’s a two year old who throws a fit when he doesn’t get his way

Series: coming soon

livin’ in a daydream - bridgerton au (coming soon)

series summary - y/n bridgerton and prince harry never got along from the day he thought she needed help when she clearly didn’t, and he didn’t like how hardheaded she was. the two of them were always at each other’s throat ever since they were little. but what happens when that hatred turns into sexual tension?

Season 1

| Diamond of the First Water | Shock and Delight | Art of the Swoon |An Affair of Honor | The Duke and I | Swish | Oceans Apart | After the Rain |

Season 2

| Capital R Rake | Off to the Races | A Bee in Your Bonnet | Victory | An Unthinkable Fate | The Choice | Harmony | The Viscount Who Loved Me |

just pretend to like each other (coming soon)

series summary - y/n’s best friend, analeigh is getting married to her fiancé everett. y/n is analeigh’s maid of honor, of fucking course, and everett’s best man is someone she thought she’d never see again… harry styles 

one difficult case, one infuriating person (coming soon)

series summary - while y/n loved working at evergreen law firm and got along with everyone she worked with. as well with those she worked cases with. amazingly well, just so you know. but there was one person she despised the most at her place of work: the charming, charismatic, and handsome harry styles. the two of them are at each other’s throats twenty-four-seven. but what happens when they’re put on a case together? 

the detective and his sweet honey (coming soon)

series summary - harry is a detective who frequents a local bakery owned by a shy woman named y/n. y/n is a sweetheart, a sweetheart sweet as honey. 

a kiss from a fallen rose (coming soon) 

series summary - y/n is a single mother of a little girl named beatrice. and harry is beatrice’s kindergarten teacher, who has a crush on y/n. 

Stranger Things 

Steve Harrington

Series - coming soon

not as close as we were before (coming soon)

series summary - 

Season 1

| The Vanishing of Will Byers | The Weirdo on Maple Street | Holly, Jolly | The Body | The Flea and the Acrobat | The Monster | The Bathtub | The Upside Down |

Season 2 - The Lost Sister will be not written as it is just an episode around Eleven with 008. 

| Mad Max | Trick or Treat, Freak | The Pollywog | Will the Wise | Dig Dug | The Spy | The Mind Flayer | The Gate |

Season 3

| Suzie, Do You Copy?  | The Mall Rats | The Case of the Missing Lifeguard | The Sauna Test | The Flayed | E Pluribus Unum | The Bite | The Battle of Starcourt |

Season 4

| The Hellfire Club | Vecna’s Curse | The Monster and the Superhero | Dear Billy | The Nina Project | The Dive |The Massacre at Hawkins Lab | Papa | The Piggyback |

Eroda’s Fish Tacos Masterlist

i have a patreon where you get early release, exclusive content for $3 a month —> subscribe here

check my #file for recently posted work

looking for a fic? try my #fic find tag

harry guide (appearance in tropes).

last updated: Nov 6th, 2022

🔥 denotes sexual content

One Shots! (No verse)

#HendallReunited: Harry has trouble telling people no. It affects his relationship and his wife has had enough. How can he change the way he’s been his entire life? (5.2k) 🔥

Three Minutes: Harry slips up and it’s only right his wife serves him a little punishment. (3.2k) 🔥

Bathroom Floor Confessions: Harry and Y/N go on their first date where fans and paparazzi find them. Y/N has terrible social anxiety and Harry helps her through it. (3k) 

Dad!Harry

Adjustments : Y/N is exhausted and tired of staying at home with the baby while Harry tours. Harry just wants to make his family happy but keeps mucking it up. (5k)🔥

Take a Hike: Harry, Y/N, & the baby take a hike while on tour. They encounter overzealous fans and he goes into papa bear mode. (2.2k)🔥

The Brits Dilemma: Harry & Y/N go to the Brits. It’s the first time they’ve been away from their baby. Y/N is struggling but doesn’t want to ruin the night for her husband. (1.8k)

Just a Lesson: Y/N is overwhelmed, Harry is overwhelmed, & Sasha is crabby. Then they get swarmed at the airport resulting Y/N and the baby getting hurt (minor minor injuries). (5k) 🔥

Famous!Harry x Influencer!YN

Since the First Video: Harry needs a recipe. He stumbles upon Y/N’s YouTube channel. She’s an awful cook, swears like a sailor, and never quite gets the recipe right. Harry’s in love. (4k)

Taste Like Sugar and Relief: When Harry gets swept up into the glitz and glam of being back on tour. YN starts to feel left in the dust as she attempts to film her videos on every off chance she gets. It gets to be too much for her to take. (7k)🔥

Deaf!Fratboy!Harry

Not Your Charity Case:  Harry is a frat boy - who doesn’t need sympathy from anyone. He makes Y/N feel a sense of home when they’re together. But is Harry just like every stereotypical fraternity guy? (6.2k)🔥

Finally Fitting in: Harry goes homes to meet Y/N’s family. He’s gets more then he expected. He starts to feel like he has a home. (5.6k)🔥

It’s Yours: YN finally meets Harry’s family and it goes just about as well as expected it would. 🔥

BLURBS

ALL TROPES - these are blurbs and one-shots that contain more than one of the tropes as a collab of sorts (not a multiverse)

CEO!Harry (Categorized)

This verse is sorted into the timeline of their relationship. If you’re just starting the series - I suggest you start at the beginning but most can be read without. enjoy! 

CEOVERSE INFORMATION

DATING AND ENGAGED

PREGNANCY/BIRTH

KIDS

BLURBS W/ JUST YN & H

BLURBS WITH THE BABIES

MLB!Harry (Categorized)

+ MLB = Major League Baseball

This verse is sorted into the timeline of their relationship. If you’re just starting the series - I suggest you start at the beginning but most can be read without. enjoy! 

DATING AND ENGAGED

PREGNANCY

KIDS

BLURBS

JUST MLBRRY & YN BLURBS

HSLOT VERSE (Categorized)

This verse is sorted into the timeline of their relationship. If you’re just starting the series - I suggest you start at the beginning but most can be read without. enjoy!

LOVE ON TOUR

HARRYS HOUSE

BLURBS

BREAKUP BLURBS

Cheating!Harry Verse (Categorized)

This verse is sorted into the timeline of their relationship. If you’re just starting the series - I suggest you start at the beginning but most can be read without. enjoy! 

ONE SHOTS

BLURBS

Gang!Harry Verse (Categorized)

This verse is sorted into the timeline of their relationship. If you’re just starting the series - I suggest you start at the beginning but most can be read without. enjoy! 

ONE SHOTS

BLURBS

BLURBS W/ THE TWINS

Werewolf!Harry Verse (Categorized)

This verse is sorted into the timeline of their relationship. If you’re just starting the series - I suggest you start at the beginning but most can be read without. enjoy!

ONE SHOTS

BLURBS

Cowboy!Harry Verse

Vampire!Harry Verse 

ONE SHOTS

BABY BAT BLURBS

Pilot!Harry Blurbs

Forbidden love blurb

The Rich Series H.S

Synopsis: 

Neighbour/Older!Harry. A Summer dogsitting job for Mr. Styles is a dream come true for any broke uni student. He's rich, gorgeous and finally fucks you after your weekly dinner together. A series that follows two neighbours who end up in a sexual relationship.

Warnings: This is an agegap romance, if you don't like it don't read it. MC is 22ish and H is 38/39. Other warnings include smut that features dirty talk, choking, spanking, anal, daddy kink etc. Specific warnings will be written at the start of each part.

Masterlist:

Part 1 The hookup that starts it all

Part 2 The morning after and their weekly dinner. Terms are set and a relationship forms.

Part 3 Harry and y/n run into each other on a night out and an argument begins

Part 4 It's Harry's birthday dinner but food isn't what gets eaten...

Part 5 It's Harry's birthday party and the couple manages to break their once-a-week rule yet again

Part 6 The aftermath of Harry's birthday leaves the pair feeling all kinds of emotions. Harry also discovers how soon y/n returns to university, but an honest conversation and a little fun in the pool solve everything.

Part 7 Harry plans something special for the second last dinner that involves a bluetooth activated toy. The couple takes a bath and goes for dessert that involves some carpool karaoke and ice cream.

Part 8 Phone sex, lunch and an interesting visit to a certain shop.

Part 9 Where y/n and Harry have a confrontation and you get an insight into the people trying to pull them apart.

- Find my General Masterlist here -

Grapejuice (fic) Part One

Premise: Harry has been pining over Y/n - his best friends slightly older sister - for as long as he can remember. But she still refuses to see him as anything other than her brothers goofy obnoxious bestie omg omg loads of pining and sexual tension (even more sexy sex) and ofc angsty angst.

Word Count: 12k

Warnings: Smutty suggestions, drug/alcohol use, mind-blowing banter.

Part Two / Part Three

Fashion Board

Masterlist

---

The soft thumps of music muffled behind the apartment door were audible the moment you reached the last step of your ascent, arriving on the third floor of the new apartment block your brother, Jack, had recently moved into. It was sweet of him to wait until you were back in town before hosting the house-warming party.

You stopped briefly, taking one final look in the grand, gold-framed mirror- touching up your cherry gloss as an afterthought. The building was impressive- completely out of your price range, and quite a statement buying the penthouse- well you thought so anyway, but as you had reminded yourself, at least it wasn’t your money.  

The hallway was empty, aside from a small hardwood table, elegantly decorated with a vase of marvellous, and surprisinglyrealwhite lilies. At the end of the lengthy passageway- walls tiled in deep ocean green, marbled floors- was an elevator, complete with an old-school golden gate, and totally unnecessary.

“Just take the bloody stairs” you mumbled, approaching the front door.

You had hardly knocked once before the heavy wood swung open, your brother- cheeks rosy, eyes glassy but glimmering- was standing on the other side.

He let out a sort-of cheer, arms raising before he fully engulfed you, lifting you off of your feet. You had seen him only a month ago, but if he had had it his way, Jack would have you both remain attached at the hip- as you had been almost your entire lives.

He put you back down, pressing a brisk kiss to your forehead and thanking you for coming,

“It really wouldn’t have been the same without you here,” he said, slinging an arm loosely across your shoulder, pulling you into the entrance hall of his…penthouse.

Your eyes were darting across the room, taking in the style, size and of course judging his choice of paintings- hung on almost every available wall. Jack led you through the house, giving a half-hearted house tour on your way to the kitchen.

It was by far your favourite room so far, decorated in pale baby blue with white cabinets and an island that was, perhaps the size of your entire kitchen put together. Nevertheless, it was the bar that really caught your attention- though it was barely visible under an array of what looked like crystal-glasses, a variety of expensive bottles and fresh-cut fruit.

Before you had even fully stepped into the kitchen, your brother was whisked away by the mention of the delivery guy arriving. “Make yourself at home,” he called over his shoulder, and without hesitation you made your way over to the countertop, fixed on the idea of a G & T complete with those irresistible blueberries.

You had all but finished the final touches on your mix, humming along to a familiar song spilling through the speakers- when the sudden warmth of something- no- someone’s breath on the back of your neck sent contradicting goosebumps up your arms and spine.

“Fancy seeing you here”, his voice was deep and familiar, fresh mint filling your senses.

He leaned into you slightly, bringing you to your senses. You intended to remain unbothered, going back to garnishing your drink with juicy berries. You took a lengthy sip, closing your eyes momentarily before turning around to face him.

He took a small step back in order to see you better, letting his gaze flicker shamelessly over you, taking a second to admire the way you looked,

“I could say the same about you” the mere sound of your voice drew his attention back, a cheeky smile growing wider by the second,

“Is this the part where you make fun of my lifestyle? Y’know, rag on me about drinking too much… smoking too much…. fucking…” he was beaming proudly now, eyes never leaving yours in anticipation,

“…too much? I would never,” you feigned disapproval, adding an eyeroll as you took another sip of your drink, hummed with satisfaction.

He tilted his head back with a slight chuckle, the corners of his eyes creasing with pleasure,

“Oh, how I missed this,” he teased, “Always good to see you, Y/n” he meant that part.

“Likewise, Harry” you tended to your drink once more.

He mimicked, taking a long sip of the glass of scotch wrapped firmly in his hand and you took the opportunity to actually take him in. He had been dressing better lately, and thank god for that you had thought. Harry had even started to impress you with certain ensembles- not that you would ever make him aware of that.

He wore a tight, but comfy burnt orange and purple tee-shirt. He paired it with a pair of low-rise, faded denim jeans that flared at the calves, and were rather well-fitted. His classic trademark of several rings decorated his hands, and a gold, tennis-link necklace lay across his chest.

He looked good. Annoyingly so.

It had become one of the things you dreaded about coming home- the confusing thoughts plaguing your clarity over the last couple years was well, sheer madness. What had he done differently to his hair? It suited him, short overall but slightly longer at the top, styled up and out of his face. It framed his eyes... his jawbone… his entire face really.

None of this made him any less annoying though, which was the only saving grace. You feared what would have already happened between you two otherwise.

Harry was your brothers oldest, and best friend- they met the afternoon your family moved next door to the Styles’ and the two had instantly bonded over their love for football. And even now, though they lived very different and separate lives, they were as close as ever- annoyingly close. Unfortunately for you this meant dealing with your brother- times two- and there was rarely an occasion where Harry didn’t turn up at one point or another.

Though he was terribly sweet, the Harry from your childhood lacked a filter, and had far too much energy to spare. You were only a few years older than them, but Harry seemed to have no off-switch, and it was hard not to engage in trivial arguments with him. Jack was no help either, always encouraging and taking pleasure in seeing you get so riled up.

When you got older things had changed slightly, and Harry was far less insufferable than before- though he still showered you in attention, most of it stirring the same negative reaction you expressed as a child.

To make matters worse, Harry had never kept quiet about his attraction for you. You were his best friends’ hot older sister after all. In Harry’s opinion, you got prettier each year- and he rather enjoyed making sure you knew this. And you always responded the same, with a scoff and an eyeroll.

Your thoughts had already started to wander and you were somewhat grateful Harry broke the short silence before you could continue,

“How long have you been back in town?”

“Since Sunday,” you swallowed another sip of your drink.

His brows furrowed slightly, “Jack didn’t mention you were back.”

You shrugged his statement off, “Speaking of Jack, I have my reservations but overall, I do quite enjoy the apartment,” his slight furrow warped into raised curiosity, “though I can’t imagine the size makes sense for one person” you added as an afterthought.

“Then it’s a good thing he isn’t living alone,” he said simply.

It was your turn to let your brows furrow, motioning for him to elaborate.

“I’m living here too. There’s three bedrooms, it made sense,” he shrugged before sipping his beer.

You straightened up, “And I assume you stay here when you aren’t out galivanting across Europe, or LA or whatever?” you were being testy.

He placed his hand over his heart, “Ouch klutz, you know it hurts me when you trivialise my profession,” he was only half joking.

You rolled your eyes, “Well don’t take it to heart, apparently Jack doesn’t tell either of us much.”

Harry was full of mixed emotions - he had been from the moment he stumbled upon you in the kitchen, your back to him. He almost walked straight past you, stopping in his tracks the moments those familiar custom black and white Docs adorning your feet caught his attention.

His frustration only grew when he finally got a proper look at you. You wore straight-legged black jeans that you paired with an abstract black and white knitted sweater. A couple silver chains lay across your neck- they matched perfectly with the pair of large, hooped earrings and bracelets you wore.

Your hair was pinned away from your face, lest a few loose strands. Harry liked you this way, he could see your face with clarity, and he was certain you were nothing short of beautiful. Your lips were slick and glossy from the remnants of gin and tonic, and they looked awfully tasty.

Longing was mixed with confusion now, disappointed that he felt so ill-equipped in your presence, completely unaware of your attendance this evening. Harry’s mind was beginning to race, thinking about all of the things he could have- would have done differently. For starters he might have put more than two minutes into picking out an outfit. A sudden wave of insecurity flushed over him and he was praying you wouldn’t notice.

Any sign of confidence had momentarily dissipated, and Harry felt like a foolish teenager all over again, hopelessly pining over a woman who hardly ever paid him any attention.

He was more than grateful that Jack chose that very moment to reappear, going on about how the delivery guy had attempted to short-change him, before he grabbed a new bottle of beer and took a large gulp. Within a moment Jack was mid-discussion with you about his experience in the new neighbourhood so far.

Harry tried his hardest to keep his gaze from focusing on your features, letting his eyes roam the many familiar faces of guests nearby. But he faltered several times, settling on the way your eyelashes fluttered, or how the chunky ring on your thumb fit you just right.

He was so distracted he almost missed Jack asking him if he had heard what had just been said, for the second time now, mind you.

“I was saying it completely slipped my mind- forgot to even mention Y/n would be visiting this week.”

Harry mustered up a scoff before finishing off the last of his drink,

“Absolutely guttered over it, honestly mate” Harry feigned disappointment while glancing over at you,

“You know the ache in my heart for Y/n needs to be soothed, it’s simply selfish you would attempt to keep us apart.”

Jack only let out a bellowing laugh and nudged your shoulder with his own.

Though you found Harry more than attractive, you were also aware that the same thoughts always followed your admiration, you still saw him as your baby brothers’ best friend, goofy yet cocky, but all bark and no bite- surely.

The idea of him being a compatible lover was to a large degree, incomprehensible. Nevertheless, you did thoroughly enjoy Harry, at times, grateful that age had brough him more stability than just good looks.

“Oh, but Harry, as I’ve told you on numerous occasions, you would hardly be able to handle me.” You were playful, familiar teasing, but some truth still rang through.

His face changed, and then his stature followed suit. He leaned forward, his voice deepening, and his gaze remaining on you and you alone,

“I think we both know that’s not true.” And there he was again, as annoying, and full of cheek as ever.

Your eyes quickly darted over to Jack, his attention already straying elsewhere, then you turned your attention back to Harry, scoffing but working hard to remain unbothered.

“Well, uh, this is my… cue to mingle… I guess,” you nodded in their general direction before turning on your heels, leaving Harry with the same view of your back as before.

🍷

Harry remembers the first shot, and the second, but things were becoming less coherent after the third and fourth. He had a habit of overthinking these days, somewhere between the last breakup and the new album release, it had become far too easy for his thoughts to start spiralling- and by cruel repetition, you were once again the reason for his head being a million miles away from this party.

Speaking of, Harry had yet to see you again since your brief encounter in the kitchen- granted this is where Harry had remained the entire evening so far. He assumed you had to return, eventually, for a drink top-up, at the least.

He let the tequila slosh in his mouth for a moment before allowing it to burn its way down his throat. Still in his own head, no plans of leaving any time soon.

“Harry!” he could hear Jack calling from somewhere in the apartment.

He began following in the general direction, stepping into the crowded living room. Jack’s face lit up in an instant, pushing gently past a few people to get to him.

“Hey, where did you disappear to?” he asked, but hardly gave pause for Harry to respond before he was guiding the two of them through the mass of people out towards the balcony.

At first, he was resistant, but that was soon replaced with a hundred different feelings all at once when he spotted that you were already outside, your back leaning against the balcony’s railing- a Marlboro perched neatly between two fingers.

He was indulging in the idea of you once more, thinking back to the several fantasies he had always so ambitiously cast you as the main character in. You were always so cool, so calm, and collected, and well-defined. He had wanted to be more like you, to be with you.

Harry had always looked at you like he knew your secret- like he was somehow aware of how naughty your really were- hiding under the sly juxtaposition of a hard-working, put-together, golden-child. He could hardly recall this version of you nowadays, after the things he had heard you say- to him and about him.

Harry was more than grateful that Jack had already started walking towards you, giving him the needed excuse to speak to you again. He was hardly subtle with the way he was looking at you, so much so that you felt the need to draw attention to the man standing beside you.

Had he always been standing there?

Harry hardly flinched though, and if he had felt some type of way about it, he didn’t let it show on his face. Instead, he took another step forward before directing you,

“Looks like some things never change,” he knew you weren’t fond of his constant referencing of the past.

“Fuck off,” You responded with an eyeroll, taking a drag as he continued,

“You’re the splitting image- I mean minus the septum piercing, and the douchey boyfriend… well…” he glanced briefly, but noticeably at the blandly dressed guy still lingering by your side.

“Fuck you,” your tone was still playful though.

“Yeah? Been on my mind since I can remember.”

“Bet?”

“On my life,” he was careless with the wink he directed at you.

Harry would be lying if he said the thought of you being disinterested in him still crossed his mind, you were clearly humouring someone else this evening. The man next to you looked to be older than Harry, and like he worked some preppy nine-to-five. Surely nothing that could possibly catch your interest.

You were full of personality, intrigued and interested in so many things – Harry often accepted he could hardly keep up with you, but he was still certain the two of you had potential -not including the things he would let you do to him should you pay him even the slightest bit of attention.

He wanted to make a move, he always wanted to- but you were so beyond his reach- older and completely unwilling to acknowledge the fact that yes, he may still be irksome, but he was definitely not a young boy anymore.

Harry no longer wanted to get under your skin, but he would gladly settle to at least get under your garments. He was certain that if you were to, for just a moment, entertain the idea of you and him, he was sure to change your mind.

The guy to the left of you was particularly unmemorable, at least in your opinion, but it was better than standing and smoking alone. And you knew the tiniest part of you had been relieved, but only because you were aware it would annoy Harry - and you took almost any opportunity to do such.

Harry- who you hadn’t seen the entire evening - and don’t think you hadn’t acknowledged how bizarre it was of you to even notice that.

 Naturally, you could and would never go looking for him- what reason would you even have to talk to him?

Nevertheless, you reached over and passed him your cigarette, an old habit that only registered when he met you in the middle, accepting your offer in a heartbeat.

 Harry could hardly forget your little routine of bumming smokes together, hiding behind walls and bushes, afraid someone would catch you two in the act. There was a mutual sense of mischief and fondness- it was a time Harry could say with certainty that you definitely enjoyed his company- even seeking him out before sneaking through the back door, always ensuring he was by your side.

Everything about this evening was so out-of-character, from how calm Harry was - usually so full of boyishness fuelled by alcohol- down to how attractive you found it when a thick cloud of smoke slipped past his puckered lips, it felt like everything was moving in slow motion- what the fuck was happening?

You definitely needed another drink, suddenly remembering the half-empty bottle of Cirocque your date had pinched from the kitchen long before starting a conversation with you.

You had long forgotten the need for a glass and were already on your third sip, careful not to let any of the expensive liquid slip past your lips.

“Classy” Harry all but scoffed.

You stopped, the bottle leaving your lips with a soft squeak,

“Suddenly you don’t enjoy the idea of me being sloppy?”

You didn’t even bother looking at him, moving instinctively closer to Nick... was that his name? If Harry had wanted to say something he didn’t, thoughts of you being sloppy, slobbering for him were far too much to ignore.

Jack was filling the awkward silence by asking your ‘company’ several questions, which to Harry’s dismay, Nick was rather eager to answer.

­“I actually bumped into her tonight, couldn’t pass up the opportunity to strike up a conversation, and thankfully she didn’t seem to mind,” he laughed, but it oozed gawkiness, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes darted towards you looking for confirmation.

You forced a soft laugh but felt nothing for the man in general, he was good looking enough, and money probably wasn’t an issue for him, but saying you found him boring would have been an understatement.

Still, Harry was quick to resume irking you. He got under your skin in almost an instant, and you were always left a frustrated mess. He opened his mouth, ready to share a snarky remark, when the guy’s phone started ringing. He apologised briefly before stepping aside- but not before saying- and Harry couldn’t believe it,

“Ex-squeeze me for a moment.”

Your eyes went wide with the ick, and Harry was hardly subtle when he giggled and stole the empty space next to you.

Harry shifted to face you, meeting your side-profile before stating matter-of-factly,

“I couldn’t imagine you putting up with that kind of boredom, you should quit while you’re ahead.”

“And what exactly does your opinion have to do with anything? Considering you can’t speak from experience,” you huffed.

“Not from a lack of trying-”

“-but rather from my lack of interest,” you finished for him.

Harry was grateful that Jack had lost interest the minute it looked like you guys were starting to squabble, he wasn’t even facing you anymore.

“Think you’re missing out though.” Harry was uncertain about almost everything in life, but not about the idea of being with you.

“Have we not had this conversation before? And didn’t it end with me saying something like, ‘No Harry, I’m not interested in one measly round of missionary that leaves me nothing but dissatisfied.’”

Harry wanted to disagree, to give you a vivid idea of the things he would do to you right now just to prove you wrong- he would ensure he fucked you so good there could be no round two. But he knew that wasn’t the way to go about things.

Instead, he simply said,

“Well, you know what they say about assumptions.”

You rolled your eyes, and stood up straight now, turning to him sternly,

“For your sake, I surely hope assuming is as good as the real thing,” tapping his chest condescendingly before you turned on your heels and headed back inside the party and away from Harry.

🍷

You hadn’t seen Harry so moody in years. He seemed to have no interest in partaking in the ongoing festivities. In fact, he was brooding in the corner of the kitchen, back pressed firmly against the wall. He was deep in thought, brows furrowed, jaw slightly clenched.

His hair was starting to look slightly dishevelled, from all the times he had ran his hands through it. He was looking good though. You decided he would look perfect underneath you, or perhaps even looking up at you.

But you quickly, and aggressively, shook your head, trying to eradicate these inappropriate thoughts, almost scolding yourself aloud before quickly accepting a tequila from an old schoolmate you had been catching up with in the kitchen.

You called out for Jack, looking at the shot glass sitting on the countertop filled to the brim. You were starting to feel good- really good, buzzing slightly. That familiar playfulness you always felt after indulging in vices was making its appearance.

When he failed to respond, you only shrugged before taking the shooter on his behalf, tossing it back with little regard before turning to look back at the living room, eyes finding their way back to Harry- who was still brooding in the corner all alone.

Without coherent rationality you found yourself heading towards the bathroom having to pass him in the process.

Maybe you did enjoy the attention Harry gave you- or perhaps this was just another attempt to reciprocate the frustration he had left you with just earlier.

As you began past him, you slowed to a complete halt- his head snapping up, the surprise evident on his features as two of your icy fingers reached up and hooked themselves onto the collar of his shirt. You tugged it down and to the side- exposing part of his collarbone and bird tattoo. With one finger, you gently tapped his skin twice before releasing the shirt altogether,

“Hm,” your gaze slowly lifted and met his- he was too scared to blink. You leaned forward,

“Swallows,” you paused and thought about it for a moment,

“Your tattoos and I have that in common.”

You didn’t wait to see his response, stepping back and heading towards the bathroom. His skin felt scorched in their wake.

Harry was stunned, naturally, his thoughts in an absolute frenzy. He had been angry, actually upset after you had belittled him so effortlessly just earlier- this evening was quickly turning nightmarish. And now, you were teasing him- taunting him, actually. Harry hadn’t stopped thinking about you the entire evening. Why was he so fixated? This couldn’t be healthy.

He hadn’t - and didn’t feel this way about any of the other women in his life. There was just something about you. He liked you. Always had. Harry had a feeling there was still more to you and he had the aching desire to find out.

He had been back home for a while now, so focused on his album that his personal life had ended up on the backburner without a second thought. Tonight, in the comfort of his new home he could no longer ignore his thoughts veering astray. Particularly the thoughts entailing your thighs, bare and wrapped around his waist.

He stood there for a moment, your words swirling around, getting louder until he could hear nothing *but your sweet, sweet voice. And though you were probably just fucking with him, Harry was no longer thinking clearly – a man on a mission as he left his spot by the wall and followed after you.

You were just stepping back into the passage when you spotted Harry walking toward you with what looked like determination- and possibly certainty. He was just feet away from you within an instant, and you hardly had a second to comprehend before he pressed his chest to yours- pushing you back softly into the silver and white wallpaper.

You looked up, gasping as he pinned you between his arms, both hands pressed against the wall just above your shoulders. His face was closer to yours than ever before and your eyes darted back and forth, studying his soft frown, forehead crinkling, and brows furrowed. His frustration was blatant, but the lustful sparkle in his eyes was unmistakable.

“What-” you started but Harry was quick to cut you off, leaning that much closer,

“-give me a chance,” it came out in one breath, fanning across your face.

You blinked back. He was incredulous. This was worst-case-scenario- you had been avoiding this type of interaction the entire night, and with one sentence you had thrown it all down the drain. And now here he was, so close. His chest pressed against yours, leg slotted between yours, brushing against your skin, breathing fast, and heavy, he smelled good, and looked better.

The fluttering in your stomach was unfamiliar- intrigued and excited. You wondered what exactly he had in mind if you were to in fact give him a chance. Something told you that there was more to him; that he might be anything but all-talk. The way he looked at you, how filthy he spoke to you, even the way he touched you when permitted.

You were concerned about losing control, leaning into him, touching him- but concern wasn’t enough when you slung your arm around his neck, nails scratching the base of his neck. Harry’s eyes dropped, head tilting closer, your foreheads brushing.

His words still echoing, “give me a chance, give me a chance.”

“I said, I don’t think you could handle-” you tried,

“-I think you’re bullshit,” he interrupted, and you let out a soft gasp,

“That’s mean,” your other arm linking around his shoulders,

“You’re mean,” he muttered just above your ear, before a soft kiss was pressed below your lobe,

“Matter of opinion,” you sighed, raking your nails along his jaw,

“I disagree,” a chaste kiss to your jaw,

“You always do,” thumb sliding along his bottom lip,

Harry dropped his arm, hand coming up to hold the side of your jaw, tilting you upward until you were blinking up at him. He had never seen you like this before; it felt so natural and surreal, seconds away from rectifying the last twenty plus years.

You were ready to meet him in the middle, shutting out everything that wasn’t him. You were at his mercy, foolishly waiting on edge for him to finally kiss you. His thumb copied yours, brushing against your lip before slipping slightly into your mouth, grazing your teeth.

You rose off of your heels, leaning up to impatiently close the gap, his hands moving to cup your face- he was looking at you lazily, lips slick, plump and puckered just for you,

“Let me kiss you,” he whispered,

“No.”

“Please?” so softly, your eyes fluttering shut - when out of nowhere,

“Harry?” it came from far at first, but was quickly followed by another, “Harry!”

It was Jack- drunk and loud- bellowing from the kitchen and heading straight for the hallway.  

As if you had been set alight, you removed your arms and gave Harry a harsh shove until he stumbled back and looked at you with a mix of sheer shock and confusion. Before he could speak, Jacked turned the corner and cheered,

“I found you!” he was drunker than when either of you last saw him, stumbling around, eyes barely open.

Harry was so startled and full of disappointment he could barely comprehend. He was seconds away from kissing you- and now, when he glanced your way, you were a blushing mess, averting eye contact, arms wrapped firmly across your chest.

He managed to come to a stop, leaning his shoulder and head against the wall,

“I’m so sleepy, have I spent enough time mingling? Can I go to bed without saying goodnight? I don’t think anyone would care and I mean, like I said, I’m really tired.”

Jack was pouting and the eyeroll Harry sent his way could hardly convey his annoyance.

It was then that you coughed softly, Harry’s head snapping your direction in an instant,

“Good plan. I think I should get going anyway, been a long day,” you shrugged, looking anywhere but in Harry’s direction.

You were mortified- and you weren’t sure if it was because of Jack, or Harry. Either way you were still fully to blame, and it was time to make a run for it. You could feel Harry’s unwavering gaze, so strong it made you ache with awkwardness.

Jack nodded along, head droopier, eyes drowsier, “Y/n, you rock!”

“Facts.” You chuckled.

“True rock n’ roller babyyyy!” he sung out, and it seems both you and Harry took that as a cue,

“Alright Jack let’s get you to bed,” Harry took him by the shoulder, taking one last longing look at you. You glanced up for a brief moment, eyes wide. And then you were mumbling your goodbye’s and heading for the front door.

As the door shut behind you, you pressed your back against it and let out the longest sigh, pressing your face into your hands, pushing harder and harder, forcing all fuzziness to disappear. The embarrassment was seeping from your everywhere, and worse- you knew you would have to see him again.

🍷

Jack had not stopped moaning and groaning from the minute you both sat down across from one another. The breeze directs the sun’s glare directly above the table, and whilst you are most grateful for this marvellous weather, Jack does not seem to agree. Though, you could chalk that up to the hangover he was currently nursing.

You two had made plans for a brunch catch-up after the housewarming, but apparently you had failed to consider that your brother was obviously still a man-child. Did he need three-to-five workdays to recover?

After all these years, you would have hoped that Jack might have learned to handle his liquor, swap a few tequilas for a sip of water. He truly was a baby, looking devoid of sleep, hair sticking up in all directions, and after what felt like the millionth grunt, you finally looked up from your phone,

“Dude. It’s already midday. Is this going to be another one of those full day recoveries? Because we are not teens anymore; I am no longer obligated to take care of you-“

Harry interrupted your train of thought as he seemed to pop-up out of nowhere, towering over you and stealing the sun in the process. He’s sporting a chunky-knitted sweater, the black tank top peeking out matches his flared pants and boots. He looks cosy.

But he is soaking up all the warmth, stealing it for his own, peering down at you, green eyes half-hidden behind his ray-bans.

“For the love of god, sit down already.” You groaned, wrapping your favourite blue, corduroy overcoat across your chest as a small shiver took over your arms.

Harry chuckled, looking at you curiously as he slid out a chair and sat himself down next to Jack- who whined meekly when his and Harry’s elbows briefly touched.

“Christ. What is with you two today? Is this a Y/L/N thing?” he was amused, settling back further into his seat, removing his shades, and running a hand lazily through his hair.

Jack, whose head was now resting directly on the table, lifted up slightly and attempted to get out a coherent sentence,

“M’just alitt wreckddd is’all…” he tried.

Harry looked at him incredulously, turning to you with a smile so wide it reached his eyes. And he looked warm- warm and snug and somehow radiating an energy that quickly became contagious. It made you smile softly, and then you were chuckling along, happy be in his company.

“Last time you mix drinks, huh Jack?”

He whined once more.

Harry shifted towards you, elbows stretching out across the table, he let his stare linger for a moment longer than you both knew was necessary. You felt hot under his gaze, observed and uncomfortable with the sudden shift of attention. But before you could settle into this unfamiliar feeling, he sent a swift wink your way.

“See something you like?” your brows arched.

“More than,” Harry nodded in satisfaction. “I don’t want to do the things I want to do with you with people I just like.”

Now you were red in the face for another reason, eyes desperately darting over to see if Jack heard, unsurprised to find that he was almost fast asleep.

And you hope your eyeroll and lack of response will come off as a tactical choice- Harry didn’t need to know how he made you feel. Flustered and confused.

“Did you have fun at your little housewarming?” you attempted to deflect.

He nodded, “My favourite part was when you were about to let me kiss you… pity about the interruption,” eyes glancing over at Jack’s sleepy figure.

Now you were blushing for sure, steam threatening to spill from your ears and nostrils. You couldn’t have regretted coming home more than in this moment.

“I wouldn’t have kissed you. Interruption or not.”

“I believe otherwise.”

“I believe otherwise about your believing of otherwise” you huffed out quickly, brows furrowed.

Harry laughed fetchingly, arms sliding across the table until they were almost bumping your own. His stare was unwavering,

“You’re in such denial. If it weren’t so painful, I’d find it that much more endearing”

“All I heard was endearing.”

“Well, you are,” he leaned closer, “extremely endearing.”

Before you had a moment to react, Harry brought his hand down against the table, startling Jack awake. They looked at each other sternly before Jack scoffed,

“Dick.”

You took the final sip of your coffee before turning towards the two men; Jack was a sight for sore eyes, and if you spend any longer around Harry, your head might explode in confusion.

“Jack is it safe to assume we won’t be going to the market anymore?” you barely finished before he started protesting. Typical.

“Market?” Harry interjected?

“Some little art thingy Y/n heard about”

“On 4th street” your eyes rolled.

“Sounds fun” Harry shrugged.

“That’s what I thought” you mimicked.

Jack was already standing up when he got a bright idea,

“Harry, why don’t you go with Y/n? Let me get some damn sleep while she talks your ear off.”

You were a mess of protests, assuring them both that there was really no need. But Harry seemed married to the idea.

“Sounds perfect. 4th street you said?” Jack nodded.

“Really Harry, it’s not necessary- “you tried but he only shushed you,

“-Don’t worry sweets, I’ll gladly let you talk my ear off.” Winking, he joined as you all stood from the table and regrouped outside the entrance.

After a brief goodbye, Jack started heading home. And within a minute, Harry had wrapped his warm palm around yours, tugging you forward until you stumbled into line with him.

“It’s close by, lets walk.”

Harry didn’t even look your way as he moved you both forward, weaving past cars and a woman walking her Labrador. You take two steps at a time, trying desperately to keep up as you both made it safely across the road.

“Harry- “you tried, losing your footing for a moment as he powered forward, “For fuck’s sake Harry, slow down.”

He stopped abruptly, his back creating a wall for your chest to bump into.

Harry didn’t say anything when you protested, didn’t let go of your hand as he started walking forward again. He took small steps, making sure you were able to keep up with him.

Your hand felt warm and smothered within his, a fireball sparking and crackling between your palms; ready to set off an explosion that may swallow your head and heart whole. You try to focus on otherwise, taking notice of the shop windows blurring past.

Harry squeezed your hand gently, bringing your gaze to his, “Let’s go here.” he motioned towards a little bakery stand, guiding you both to the warm glass protecting a sweet collection of muffins, cookies, pastries galore.

He refused to let you go as he caught the attention of the server, “Everything smells so good!” he complimented her before continuing, “Could we please get a couple custard slices and a chocolate croissant?”

Your heart leapt as she nodded along enthusiastically and began bagging the pastries, turns out your croissant-obsession was so strong even Harry had caught on.

Nevertheless, you gazed up at him curiously, and he only smiled back sweetly before finally releasing you from his grip, fishing into his pocket for his wallet.

Your hand missed his- and you hated that, dismissing the thought completely as he handed you the warm paper bag; the sweet smell of fresh pastry had you almost burying your face forward, and Harry laughed, motioning you back towards the bustling street.

You were already stuck into the croissant, flakes fluttering everywhere- some even settling on your chin. Harry noticed you were no longer keeping up, looking over his shoulder before halting completely. You caught up; eyes still glued to your pastry, and you barely even noticed him, continuing forward- and now he had to take a long stride to catch up.

He was eyeing you intently as you devoured the remains, crumpling up the bag with a satisfied sigh. You hadn’t noticed his gaze, turning absentmindedly,

“What?” Your brow raised quizzically, using the back of your hand to dust off any excess crumbs.

“Nothing,” he mused, “you’re cute, is all.”

“Stop.” You huffed. Thankfully, the two of you had finally reached 4th street and there were stalls set up everywhere, bright colours of multiple mediums decorating the walls, the streets- the people.

Harry stopped next to you, unnecessarily leaning against you,

“Wow.” He sighed, “This is… amazing.”

You nodded along, “haven’t been to one of these in years.”

He looked over curiously, “Used to come to these things often?”

“Whenever I had the chance, yeah” you made your way to a stand nearby, getting lost in several lino-print’s, deep blue’s melting into mustard yellows and burnt orange. Harry joined you, leaning forward to get a better look.

After a few moments, you turned your attention to another stand displaying bold psychedelic canvases, varying in shapes and sizes. They were so beautiful, telling thousands of stories all at once. Harry was peering over your shoulder, studying the blotches of colour with deep curiosity.

“This one… is so… interesting.” He pointed slightly, eyes never leaving the artwork. Harry was often quick to forget the other arts. Music was now full-on lifestyle and left little time for much else these days.

“Hm,” you replied curiously, continuing to scan the other pieces.

Eventually, Harry stepped away, starting to head towards a stand further down the street. Clay ashtrays, figurines, jewellery, and other accessories decorated the table, and by the time you had caught up, he was already in the middle of purchasing several necklaces and bracelets ranging from royal blue to candy red.

“I like this one,” you pointed to a lime green bracelet, peeking out of the other beads strewn across his palm.

“I do too,” he agreed with a large grin.

You waited for Harry’s new purchases to be paid for and placed into a paper bag. He bumped his hip into yours, motioning for you both to continue down the street.

Harry was keeping as close as possible, ensuring his arm brushed your shoulder with every opportunity. As you turned the corner onto another street, and before you could hold yourself back, you were power walking towards a stall displaying, what you would later refer to as, a masterpiece.

Considering you were often surrounded by art; it wasn’t often that a piece had you this fixated. Harry had never seen you so engrossed in something- few had.

And Harry was patient as you observed, taking your time asking the artist questions- throwing around words that sounded so foreign to him, it only made you that much more attractive, seeing you in your element.

When you were finally content, you said a sweet goodbye, and gestured Harry to continue on down the street. A comfortable silence often fell neatly between the two of you, every now and then pointing out something, asking for one another’s opinion, preference.

“How’s work?” he asked,

“Loving it, actually. I was kinda nervous the job would be as trash as the one I had here…” you really hadn’t enjoyed the hustle-and-bustle of being smack-dab in the metropolitan area. Every other person was a cut-throat, a cry-baby, or just a complete asshole. It had drained almost every ounce of your passion and drive, if you had stayed a moment longer you were sure to have slipped into another bough of melancholy.

“I’m happy to hear that,” he said genuinely- Harry had hated seeing you so stressed, always seeming on the brink of tears.

“I liked the new album, by the way.” that sparked his attention,

“Yeah?”

You nodded, “Don’t let it get to your head now,” you were teasing, but wanted to make sure he knew you were being genuine, “I liked it- I loved it.”

🍷

Harry was now running late, in his own home, spending an excessive amount of time deciding between which of two shirts to wear. As soon as he had settled on a loose, black cotton button up - which he had left partly-unbuttoned and had rolled the sleeves up to his elbows – he immediately decided to change his pants and shoes.

After slipping into his new silk, embroidered-lavender slacks, he paired the outfit with shiny, point-tipped black boots. Harry was putting on the last of his jewellery and spritzing his favourite cologne while the music droned through the gaps under his door- the number of voices growing by the minute.

Harry found himself rather nervous, palms threatening to clam up as he thought about seeing you again. He knew these feelings he was having were getting out of hand. He hadn’t been in such close contact with you in years- the last time was possibly after you graduated college.

And back then, you were wrapped up in your then-relationship, dragging him along to all events. Harry was sure he had only seen you on one occasion without them. It was an important night for him- when you two were temporarily alone again.

He was sure he was in love with you back then. You consumed his every waking thought. Harry would, and did, do anything to be near you – to make you laugh, to pick your brain, sometimes just to be in your presence.

Then life hurled forward, days turned to weeks, and suddenly it was at least a year before he saw you again. You had since abandoned your relationship- and were about to ditch your home and career here in London. Harry saw you a couple weeks before you left- he didn’t have to persuade you much when he offered to come over with Jack to help box up your apartment.

But by then, he was already hot in the middle of making albums and touring arenas, he couldn’t designate the time to properly mourn your departure. It only occurred to him that you were no longer home when he came back after the band’s final tour.

Every now and then he’d hear updates or see a few photos courtesy of your mom and Jack. For a moment his heartrate would pick up, thoughts becoming a jumbled mess – what does your new home look like? What do you do in your spare time? Are you having fun?

And now here you were with all your friends, celebrating being a decade older, in his house. If he thought about it too long, his nausea would resurface. All Harry could do now was take one final look in the mirror before leaving his room, making his way towards the party.

He couldn’t believe how many guests had already arrived – had he really spent that long getting ready? A small sea of people had already formed, mid-conversations, mixing drinks, having a smoke on the balcony.

His eyes scanned the room, acknowledging people he knew as he searched desperately for you. Come to think of it, he wasn’t sure if you had even arrived yet.

He was about to give up and head over to the bar when he spotted something sparkly bobbing behind a group of people near the door to the balcony. He followed the shimmers, greeting guests as he wove through them. He stopped at the glass door.

Harry’s head, as well as his heart, had melted into a puddle as his gaze landed on you, leaning against the balcony with a cigarette perched between your cherry-gloss lips.

He couldn’t hear over the thumping in his head, the only thing comprehensible was how incredible you looked. Which was an understatement of note.

You had chosen an extremely well-fitted, watermelon pink dress. It settled neatly across your upper thighs, cinching in at the waist, white frill accentuating your cleavage and connecting to two delicate bows that worked as straps strewn across your shoulders.

You had swapped out your docs for a pair of white, latex boots (each with a hot pink heart) stopping just above your ankles, as well as white fishnet stockings.

And to top it all off, your head adorned some sort of princess tiara covered in sparkly glitter- the beacon that had just led Harry directly to you.    

Harry still hadn’t moved when Jack, who he hadn’t even noticed was standing beside you, caught his attention. And as soon as Jack lit up with eagerness, your focus shifted too, almost dropping your cigarette as you sent a wide grin his way- eyes beaming with excitement.

“Haaarryyy!” you enthused, arms waving as you did a little hip wiggle.

Harry felt like he had just stepped into a fever dream. But he was quick to reciprocate, matching your grin as he made his way over.

You were bouncing on your toes, and he had barely come to a halt before you lurched forward, flinging your arms around his shoulders for a boisterous, but doting embrace. Harry’s arms wrapped around your upper back, pulling you close, stumbling, and living for the sound of your giggles.

“Happy birthday, klutz.” He said in a sing-song tone, rocking you back and forth.

You pulled away, singing back a sweet “thank you” before leaning up to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek. Harry prayed it was too dark out- hoped you wouldn’t notice the way his face turned so red.

And you didn’t, bouncing from heel to heel back to your spot next to Jack. You picked up and sipped at a drink that was almost spilling from your glass, and as your lips met the sweet liquid your eyes widened with something else in mind.

“Shots.” You stated seriously but couldn’t help it as you began smiling mischievously.

“Shots!” Jack matched your energy and suddenly Harry was reminded that you and your brother were a deadly combination.

Usually, it was you who would end up responsible for reeling Jack and Harry in when they got too rowdy- chasing after them in a weak attempt to corral their belligerent bodies into whatever vehicle was on standby. But courtesy of making it another trip around the sun, you were two steps ahead of the boys, slipping past friends who all took turns attempting to halt you for a chat.

By the time the two men had caught up, you were already lining up four luminous shot glasses- they hadn’t noticed Nova [one of your nearest and dearest friends from school] had already joined you. The two of you were now chatting away, paying no mind as Jack took over the shot-dispensing duty.

In between enthusiastic exchanges, Harry greeted Nova and managed to get in a few catch-up questions before you completely distracted her with something so out of context he didn’t bother trying to keep up.

Thankfully it wasn’t long before a glass of Don Julio was being passed his way, your fingers brushing against his in the process.

Before anyone even attempted to take a sip, Jack was calling everyone to a holt, “We have to toast!” and everyone groaned. But he was unphased,

“Despite being the greatest pain in my ass, you’re also the greatest person I’ve ever known. You’re a real grown-up now, shithead, and I can’t wait to see what thirty has in store for you.”

You pouted sweetly, eyes bashful as your three friends started saying cheers, clinking their tequilas together. Harry tapped his glass against yours, seconds away from lifting it to his lips-

“Hey, hey- “you scolded, and he held back any panic, “You have to look each other in the eye before you cheers.”

Harry smiled in relief, locking your gaze as he brought his glass back to yours,

“Definitely don’t want seven years of bad sex,”

He sent a wink your way as your glasses separated, tilting his head back, swallowing quickly.

“Especially when you’re finally back in town.”

Jack spotted Mitch and Adam mingling nearby, quicky motioning them over. Harry wanted to keep talking to you though, his mind hadn’t strayed from you, nor had his gaze. But you were all amped-up, swaying from side-to-side, cheesy grin, eyes crinkling as you reacted to something Nova said.

Thankfully, Harry was gifted with an opportunity when Jack suddenly realised Nova hadn’t yet met the other guys. He called her over, leaving you leaning across the bar, perched on your elbows.

“Care for a drink, senorita?” your ears perked up at that, Harry was already pretending to roll up his sleeves, gently bumping his hip with yours. You turned, leaning your back against the counter now as Harry reached over and grabbed a cocktail glass. He got to work, grabbing an assortment of drinks and ingredients and you found your eyes wandering to his arms and hands.

Harry must have felt you staring, looking over at you in between mixing ice and some pink concoction,

“You look incredible, by the way,” he busied himself, grabbing different utensils, glancing back to reaffirm his statement.

“You reckon?” standing up straight, you did a good job doing a little show for him, making sure he got a good view of all the frills and your figure.

He stopped in his tracks and nodded profusely, “Incredible. Definitely designer right?”

“You’ll die,” you stepped closer, straight-faced. He waited,

“Lacroix, ’91. From their spring collection.”

Harry was impressed, excited to finish off this marvellous drink with raspberries and strawberries,

“Christ. What did you do to get your hands on it?”

“Sold my soul.”

“To the Devil?”

“No, her name was actually Giovanna- bitchy creative director from Milan. Love her to death.”

Harry found you more endearing by the second. He added a finishing touch of white sugar, turning to you proudly, his creation on display,

“Voila! Special birthday cocktail for the special birthday girl.”

“Ooh! It’s pretty,” you marvelled,

“Matches your dress,” he pointed out as he placed the drink in your hand.

You took a sip, eyes widening in delight. It was simply delicious, and you couldn’t be sure if Harry had even known what he was doing when he made it.

“This is incredible,” you whined, taking another long sip, “Do I taste watermelon?”

“And litchi, with vodka- which I recall is a personal favourite of yours,” he had hit the nail on the head, naturally.

“Thanks Harry,” you said sweetly, “I don’t think I’ve tasted anything so good.”

Your eyes widened in an instant, as did his, and you were more than thankful when he chose to substitute a snide comment with a cheeky smirk and wink.

Nova returned to your side, making a few remarks about how sweet Adam seems, asking Harry where he was from. She suddenly remembered something and excitedly tapped you, almost causing your drink to spill.

“- She’s here? No ways! I haven’t seen her since the debauchery of Nina’s baby-shower” you enthused, eyes hastily shifting around the room for this so-called friend, gasping softly when you spotted her in the near distance.

With eagerness you wrapped your hand around Nova’s, dragging her off into the crowd. Harry turned his attention to Mitch and Adam- who had already struck up a conversation - only catching a glimpse of your back disappearing amongst the guests.

Harry was starting to feel frustrated; confusion and longing were swirling around his head with such fervour it was moments away from eating him alive. It was time for him to make a conscious effort to stop thinking about you and to start enjoying the party in honour of… well, you.

But he was determined, fixing himself a straight scotch, sloshing it back before quickly refilling and joining in the heated football debate that was escalating by the minute.

🍷

With your absence, Harry found himself mingling with people he hadn’t seen in years – some of these exchanges even being rather pleasant. He was on drink three, Jack seemed to be on at least double that. Speaking of Jack, he had been itching for a cigarette, his favourite drunken-accessory, and Harry gladly followed him out- finally feeling relaxed and frankly, almost buzzing.

The balcony, though large, was crowded. The air was perfect, spring in full swing. To his surprise, Harry spotted two empty chairs off to the side, dragging Jack along. They were going back-and-forth, trying to figure out the names of several guests.

“I think our twelfth-grade English teacher is here, what was his name?” Jack clicked his fingers searching his thoughts for the right answer, “Mister… I wanna say Twat?” he pondered, “No, that can’t be it… Twatman?”.

 “Watman. Mr. Watman.” Harry scoffed, “I’m surprised you remembered him to begin with. I don’t recall you attending a single class.”

“You’re just jealous I was skipping class to make-out with cheerleaders.”

“Which cheerleaders?”

“That’s irrelevant.”

Harry lips parted to respond, his head snapping instantly at the sound of your melodic voice bellowing across the balcony. You were on your own, a small, abstract clutch in one hand, and now you were bounding over, calling out,

“I was wondering where you were.”

Harry wasn’t sure who of the two you was addressing, but his heart couldn’t help but jump at the possibility that you may have been seeking him out after all.

You stopped before them, scanning your surroundings before suddenly, and shamelessly, you plopped yourself down horizontally across Harry’s lap. In utter shock, he peered over at Jack who not only ignored the fact but sparked up a conversation.

“Do you remember that strange professor? Taught year twelve English lit, I think.”

You thought about it, further settling into Harry’s lap, paying zero attention to him as you began unzipping and searching through your clutch. You pulled out a dainty container of weed, blunt-wrap, and a tube of cherry lip gloss,

“Yeah, yeah. Twatman right?”

“See, Harry!” Jack exclaimed, pointing your way.

But Harry’s head was miles away, his entire body heating up, your skin burning against his thighs. Every time you moved, breathed- he had to calm his own, but he was more than thankful for the permanent view of your side profile- cute nose and all. You started rolling, telling Jack some bizarre information about their old teacher. You both theorized about a secret relationship, while Harry sat idly by, adamant on being your ideal chair.

It was only a couple minutes later when you finished up, poking your tongue out as you ran it across the length of the joint. You could feel Harry’s eyes on you, choosing to ignore them as you returned to your clutch to fish out a lighter.

You crossed one leg over the other, adjusting and taking subtle notice of Harry’s squeamishness before placing the joint between your lips, starting to light up.

Harry’s head was foggy for two reasons now, a thick cloud of smoke leaving your lips and fanning out across his unsuspecting face. He blinked back a few times, trying hard to maintain stillness. After taking another quick drag, you leaned forward, thighs momentarily pressing further into Harry’s as you passed the joint over to Jack.

The joint had barely touched his lips before Jack was coughing and spluttering, eyes watering as he hunched forward and put his hand across his forehead.

“Jesus, Y/n- “he was trying to laugh but it came out sounding like a failed-beatboxer, “-fucking strong. Where did you get this?” he attempted to swallow residual coughs as he stretched over and handed the joint back to you.

“Same place I usually get it,” you paused and took a lengthy drag, sharply inhaling before letting the smoke slip through your lips,

“Purple haze. She gave me extra courtesy of the big three-oh.”

“Seems your senior citizen discount has already come in handy,” Jack mused, still holding back from coughing.

“Get fucked,” you huffed, turning your attention to Harry, who instantly felt hot under the collar,

“Still up to no good?” your lips turning upward as you gestured to the joint perched between your fingers.

Harry nodded up at you, his doe-eyes blinking bashfully. With that, you lifted your hand and as he parted his plump lips, you slotted the joint between them. Your fingers brushed against his chin, nails grazing his lips as you held him in place, letting him take a lengthy inhale as your eyes trained the freckles scattered across his face.

Up close, he looked soft, and raw - your eyes felt like they had turned into magnifying glasses, noting the stubble scattered across his chin, the crinkles between his focused-brow, the stray curls slipping across his forehead- and before you could stop yourself, you had concluded that he was beautiful, and that denying your attraction for him was at this point, futile.

He looked up at you through his thick, fluttering lashes, leaning back slightly and you pulled your hand away, bringing the joint back to your own lips. You were still looking at Harry intently when the corner of his eyes crinkled, his lips parting to expose a pearly grin,

“See something you like?” he asked.

And you did your very best to remain unphased, inhaling sharply before you tilted towards him, speaking just above a whisper,

“I don’t want to do the things I want to do with you with people I just like.”

Your voice mocked his deep and slow tone, taking pleasure in exaggerating each and every syllable.

Harry gulped. You pushed the joint towards him, and he bent forward- more than necessary- gladly accepting anything you had to offer. His head was still swirling, convinced you were emitting a vibrant glow, aiming it directly at him.

Harry bravely tapped his fingers along your shin, feeling lulled and content. You had fully relaxed now, leaning your shoulder against his,

“Having fun, birthday girl?”

“Yes sir,” you rested your head- just barely touching his shoulder,

Harry must have been dreaming- stoned and hallucinating, either way he let his hands trail up and down your leg, tapping his foot side-to-side, humming almost inaudibly.

And then in the blink of an eye, you were standing up, leaving him cold and longing once more. You looked over at Jack who had finished coughing and was now staring directly up at the sky. His eyes were darting back-and-forth, acknowledging each star.

You let the joint slip from your fingers, using the toe of your boot to put it out,

“Well boys, I’m off to get a refill,” you tapped Harry’s shoulder gently,

“Glad you can still keep up.”

He looked over at Jack - who was still looking up – and without a word, Harry was out of his seat, hot on your trails. If tonight had taught him anything it was that you were quick on your feet, already at the bar as you scanned the scatter of bottles.

Before he could announce his presence, you turned to him briefly in acknowledgement, “do you still have that photo album I made for your eighteenth?”

“Random.” He said curiously, watching as you turned back and continued examining the bottles.

“I know,” you nodded your back still to him, “I saw a bunch of albums in the living room, just wondered if you still had it.”

Harry thought about it for a second, “I do.”

Thousands of memories flooding back to him, “It’s in my room actually.”

“Is this a just ploy to get me alone?” You turned to fully face him now, eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Yes.” He teased sternly.

You nodded, turned, and grabbed an unopened bottle of 1982 Bordeaux, and motioned towards the direction of the bedrooms,

“Lead the way.”

You stayed close, following Harry down the hallway to the foot of his door. It was already ajar, and he used his foot to push it open fully, flicking on the light switch before stepping aside to welcome you in. You took a couple steps forward before he shut the door and walked off in search of the album.

You took in the room, pleasantly overwhelmed by how much it still screamed Harry. You remembered his last room and even spotted his old record player, his rustic bookshelf, a framed poster of Doctor Frankenfurter, and of course his first guitar- dinged-up and faded- just the way you liked it.

Harry was shuffling through one of the draws of his dressing table, his back to you, as you crouched down and began unzipping your boots. The carpet beneath your fishnets was thick, white, and fluffy- and before you could help yourself, you were now fully sitting down, legs crossed, arms working to remove the bottles cork.

Harry cheered softly as he found what he was looking for, grabbing the album- blue, with a hand-painted portrait of himself on the cover. When he turned and noticed your current position, he slipped off his own shoes and plopped down across from you, crossing his legs.

He dropped the album between the two of you, pairing a cheery, “ta-da” with jazz hands.

You did a little dance- what you could manage from your position- as the cork finally popped off and you took a swift swig before passing it to Harry.

He gladly accepted, and as the bottle reached his lips, Harry suddenly acknowledged the situation he was currently in. nerves rushing in from all directions, and he took an extra couple sips on account.

You were already flipping through the first few pages, grinning sweetly, and pausing to take a better look at some of the pictures. Harry was looking too, but mostly at you. He liked how you focused, how fondly you smiled, and he was only seconds away from getting caught staring.

“Oh god, do you remember this day?” you leaned forward, fingers tracing a photo of Harry dressed as a cowboy, sporting a fake moustache, and aiming a water gun at the camera. He nodded fondly, reminding you that shortly after the picture was taken, you threw up all over a rosebush- fully dressed as a brothel-lady - bonnet, and all.

With that, you flipped the page with haste, scanning some of the others, stopping to think- sometimes to reminisce. And then you came across the one picture Harry would have traded the world for. The two of you were sat on a couch, your legs draped across the armrest, your head Harry’s lap. The sun was setting, creating a silhouette of the perfect tableau. It was the beginning of one of his favourite evenings to date. Whoever took the photo hadn’t stuck around, the most important part of this memory was that it was just you two- an anomaly.

Before he could stop himself, Harry pointed down at the photo, “This one is my favourite.”

You followed his hand, looking down intently at the little moment caught on film,

“We drank so much wine that night,” you giggled fondly, careful not to give any feelings you may have harboured away.

“You sang,” He said,

“For you,” you emphasised,

“For me.” He nodded.

A silence settled and Harry took another sip, remembering your twirls, drinking, spilling from the bottle, the way your hair fell, the way he felt. The night way playing out on super speed, too many moments jumbling together, and then he couldn’t stop the blush from rushing to his cheeks,

“Oh god. I danced. A lot.” He remembered the moves far too well.

How could you forget? He was clumsy on his feet, creating a brand-new style. And he was so off-beat, no rhythm, moving any which way as long as it caused you some sort of reaction- preferably an endearing laugh, which you were of course currently doing,

“Yeah, you danced a lot.” You smiled innocently, “For me.”

“For you.”

Harry caught your gaze, the air between you thick with tension and lust. He wanted crawl right on over, grab your face and smother you in kisses. And the way you were looking back at him, Harry was almost convinced you might actually want him to do that too.

Neither moved, hardly blinked, and you were so hot under the collar it was torturous. You felt completely trapped, losing all self-control and about to slink straight into his lap. In sheer panic, you turned back to the album, flipping through pages at a time.

There was a photo of Harry, Jack, and an old friend of theirs from school. They were dressed in football attire, getting ready for a match.

“Oh, I remember this guy. Andy, right?” you taunted, glancing up to gauge his reaction,

Harry couldn’t stop his jaw from clenching, eyes rolling.

“He was cute,” you tried, “Didn’t he have a thing for me?”

Harry scoffed. Of course Andy had fancied you- Harry almost lost his mind every time he made any comments expressing crudeness or adoration for you. He had bitten his tongue so many times it was habitual when he found himself doing it now.

He still hadn’t spoken, you were fascinated as his pupils dilated, angst creeping up across his features. You took another sip of the wine, eyeing him before pushing once more,

“Maybe I should have given him a chance…”

Harry barely let you finish, “He couldn’t’ve handled it.”

You laughed harshly, absolutely amused, and horrifyingly, extremely enticed. So, you uncrossed your legs, splaying them out in front of you, toes tapping his crossed ankles,

“You really think you -”

“- Yes.” He finished for you.

In your opinion, his certainty was the most attractive thing he had ever done. He suddenly wrapped his hands around your ankles and gently tugged you forward.

You let out a small gasp as your bum slid forward, Harry unravelling his legs, all the while dragging you further into his grasp. You were lured straight into his lap, naturally wrapping your legs around his waist, settling atop his hips.

You were face-to-face now, chest-to-chest, and his hands came to rest on your waist. His breath was warm, eyes oozing with intention as your hand lazily draped across his shoulder, fingers finding their way to his hair.

“I don’t believe you,” you muttered.

“I’ll make you,” he persuaded, hand sliding up to rest on your lower back.

You were on the brink of total surrender, leaning closer until your noses were brushing, his other hand leaving your waist to cup your jaw, securing around your throat.

“Prove it,” you gave in.

Harry felt his stomach flip, holding back the urge to shove his tongue down your throat. Instead, he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, then another to the corner of your mouth. He took his time, enjoying the way his lips sparked against your soft skin.

And then he kissed you- just barely. So lightly you barely felt it.

He pulled back for a moment, bringing his other hand up to hold your face in place. Planting a soft kiss, and another, and another, and then he finally kissed you- properly.

You were eager to reciprocate, tugging him as close as possible, kissing him with such fervour it could have convinced Harry that this was something you had spent twenty years anticipating.

Your lips detached, and Harry was quick to start scattering sloppy smooches up-and-down your neck. Nibbling and sucking now-and-then, dragging you further into his hold.

It wasn’t until you purposely pressed yourself down against his lap - desperate to ease some of this friction – when you suddenly came to your senses. Before he could kiss you once more, you went still, eyes opening to look at him in shock.

Harry stopped, eyeing you cautiously as you unravelled yourself, leaning back bashfully.

“We should get back to the party,” you suggested, scared to speak above a whisper.

Harry played it cool, nodding along as you climbed out of his lap, following suit until you were now both standing face-to-face.

Neither made any attempts to move, you watched him, shamelessly. Trying to figure out your next move, how to act, how to respond.

Suddenly Harry’s eyes lit up, surprisingly sending a wave of relief rushing through you.

“I got you something, for your birthday obviously.” He didn’t wait for your reaction, walking over to his bed before crouching down to reach for something hidden beneath.

You were eyeing him curiously as he started to reveal this surprise. The moment you caught a glance of what it was- that familiar blend of whites and purples, the abstract scatter of shapes and lines, the same feeling you felt the first time you saw the painting.

Your heart caused your ears to ring, a swell of emotions- aghast, amazed, admiration- and you were quick to realise that those feelings were for Harry.

He had barely finished revealing the artwork, not even fully standing straight as you came bounding over, causing him to drop what he was doing, only moments before you were grabbing his cheek, tugging him to meet your lips as you pressed against him with a blend of aggression and adamance.

He had no time to react, hands instinctively wrapping you up, pulling you into him, grabbing at whatever you would let him.

In a haze of needy kisses, he gently pushed you back until your bumped right into his dressing table.

You were tugging at his hair, making sure he stayed close. With your help, he used one arm to wrap around the back of your thighs, lifting you effortlessly until you were sat atop the table.

Your legs were wrapped around his waist in an instant, linking your ankles, tugging him closer. Harry was holding back a long overdue moan, hands on your jaw. You pulled back for a breath, taking in him- lusty, dishevelled, eager.

He reached up and gently removed your birthday crown, tossing it over his shoulder, and then his hands dropped to your shoulders, leaning down to press kisses to your collarbone, the nape of your neck, one final one – dragged out – beneath your ear.

Harry softly worked at the bows, pulling them loose, watching them fall, your chest on proper display now. Your hands were roaming his torso, back, his hair and finally, his jaw- leaning back in, tugging at his bottom lip with your teeth. His mouth parting slightly, and you stole the change to slip your tongue in- giving Harry a pleasant surprise.

You worked to unbutton his shirt, hastily shrugging it off of his shoulders, forcing him to help you remove it completely. Your hands were roaming his torse, lips following suit. Harry couldn’t help the soft sighs he let slip, trying to keep his hands on any part of your skin.

The impatience was growing – neither of you wanted to address it. But after the third time you pressed yourself against his crotch, Harry decided he needed to take matters into his own hands.

He stepped back, softly chuckling at the bratty whine you sent his way. Harry’s hands pressed firmly into your hips; his thumb drawing circles up your thighs. He let a few fingers slip beneath the fabric of your dress, pushing it up to reveal your deep red, lacy undies.

Harry tutted, trailing his fingers closer and closer,

“I am very, very fond of these.”

He was inches away from getting exactly where he wanted, patiently dragging out each action. He knew you were certain- your incapability of letting him out of your grasp was proof.

Your hands were still all over him, desperately grasping at any free skin,

“Shut it.”

“Yeah?” he snickered,

“Yeah,” you huffed,

“What if-”

“Harry. I said shut it and put your mouth to good use.”

He blinked, blinked once more, and nodded profusely,

“Yes ma’am.”

---

Get ready for part twoooo! - Emmy xox.

Grapejuice (fic) Part One

Premise: Harry has been pining over Y/n - his best friends slightly older sister - for as long as he can remember. But she still refuses to see him as anything other than her brothers goofy obnoxious bestie omg omg loads of pining and sexual tension (even more sexy sex) and ofc angsty angst.

Word Count: 12k

Warnings: Smutty suggestions, drug/alcohol use, mind-blowing banter.

Part Two / Part Three

Fashion Board

Masterlist

---

The soft thumps of music muffled behind the apartment door were audible the moment you reached the last step of your ascent, arriving on the third floor of the new apartment block your brother, Jack, had recently moved into. It was sweet of him to wait until you were back in town before hosting the house-warming party.

You stopped briefly, taking one final look in the grand, gold-framed mirror- touching up your cherry gloss as an afterthought. The building was impressive- completely out of your price range, and quite a statement buying the penthouse- well you thought so anyway, but as you had reminded yourself, at least it wasn’t your money.  

The hallway was empty, aside from a small hardwood table, elegantly decorated with a vase of marvellous, and surprisinglyrealwhite lilies. At the end of the lengthy passageway- walls tiled in deep ocean green, marbled floors- was an elevator, complete with an old-school golden gate, and totally unnecessary.

“Just take the bloody stairs” you mumbled, approaching the front door.

You had hardly knocked once before the heavy wood swung open, your brother- cheeks rosy, eyes glassy but glimmering- was standing on the other side.

He let out a sort-of cheer, arms raising before he fully engulfed you, lifting you off of your feet. You had seen him only a month ago, but if he had had it his way, Jack would have you both remain attached at the hip- as you had been almost your entire lives.

He put you back down, pressing a brisk kiss to your forehead and thanking you for coming,

“It really wouldn’t have been the same without you here,” he said, slinging an arm loosely across your shoulder, pulling you into the entrance hall of his…penthouse.

Your eyes were darting across the room, taking in the style, size and of course judging his choice of paintings- hung on almost every available wall. Jack led you through the house, giving a half-hearted house tour on your way to the kitchen.

It was by far your favourite room so far, decorated in pale baby blue with white cabinets and an island that was, perhaps the size of your entire kitchen put together. Nevertheless, it was the bar that really caught your attention- though it was barely visible under an array of what looked like crystal-glasses, a variety of expensive bottles and fresh-cut fruit.

Before you had even fully stepped into the kitchen, your brother was whisked away by the mention of the delivery guy arriving. “Make yourself at home,” he called over his shoulder, and without hesitation you made your way over to the countertop, fixed on the idea of a G & T complete with those irresistible blueberries.

You had all but finished the final touches on your mix, humming along to a familiar song spilling through the speakers- when the sudden warmth of something- no- someone’s breath on the back of your neck sent contradicting goosebumps up your arms and spine.

“Fancy seeing you here”, his voice was deep and familiar, fresh mint filling your senses.

He leaned into you slightly, bringing you to your senses. You intended to remain unbothered, going back to garnishing your drink with juicy berries. You took a lengthy sip, closing your eyes momentarily before turning around to face him.

He took a small step back in order to see you better, letting his gaze flicker shamelessly over you, taking a second to admire the way you looked,

“I could say the same about you” the mere sound of your voice drew his attention back, a cheeky smile growing wider by the second,

“Is this the part where you make fun of my lifestyle? Y’know, rag on me about drinking too much… smoking too much…. fucking…” he was beaming proudly now, eyes never leaving yours in anticipation,

“…too much? I would never,” you feigned disapproval, adding an eyeroll as you took another sip of your drink, hummed with satisfaction.

He tilted his head back with a slight chuckle, the corners of his eyes creasing with pleasure,

“Oh, how I missed this,” he teased, “Always good to see you, Y/n” he meant that part.

“Likewise, Harry” you tended to your drink once more.

He mimicked, taking a long sip of the glass of scotch wrapped firmly in his hand and you took the opportunity to actually take him in. He had been dressing better lately, and thank god for that you had thought. Harry had even started to impress you with certain ensembles- not that you would ever make him aware of that.

He wore a tight, but comfy burnt orange and purple tee-shirt. He paired it with a pair of low-rise, faded denim jeans that flared at the calves, and were rather well-fitted. His classic trademark of several rings decorated his hands, and a gold, tennis-link necklace lay across his chest.

He looked good. Annoyingly so.

It had become one of the things you dreaded about coming home- the confusing thoughts plaguing your clarity over the last couple years was well, sheer madness. What had he done differently to his hair? It suited him, short overall but slightly longer at the top, styled up and out of his face. It framed his eyes... his jawbone… his entire face really.

None of this made him any less annoying though, which was the only saving grace. You feared what would have already happened between you two otherwise.

Harry was your brothers oldest, and best friend- they met the afternoon your family moved next door to the Styles’ and the two had instantly bonded over their love for football. And even now, though they lived very different and separate lives, they were as close as ever- annoyingly close. Unfortunately for you this meant dealing with your brother- times two- and there was rarely an occasion where Harry didn’t turn up at one point or another.

Though he was terribly sweet, the Harry from your childhood lacked a filter, and had far too much energy to spare. You were only a few years older than them, but Harry seemed to have no off-switch, and it was hard not to engage in trivial arguments with him. Jack was no help either, always encouraging and taking pleasure in seeing you get so riled up.

When you got older things had changed slightly, and Harry was far less insufferable than before- though he still showered you in attention, most of it stirring the same negative reaction you expressed as a child.

To make matters worse, Harry had never kept quiet about his attraction for you. You were his best friends’ hot older sister after all. In Harry’s opinion, you got prettier each year- and he rather enjoyed making sure you knew this. And you always responded the same, with a scoff and an eyeroll.

Your thoughts had already started to wander and you were somewhat grateful Harry broke the short silence before you could continue,

“How long have you been back in town?”

“Since Sunday,” you swallowed another sip of your drink.

His brows furrowed slightly, “Jack didn’t mention you were back.”

You shrugged his statement off, “Speaking of Jack, I have my reservations but overall, I do quite enjoy the apartment,” his slight furrow warped into raised curiosity, “though I can’t imagine the size makes sense for one person” you added as an afterthought.

“Then it’s a good thing he isn’t living alone,” he said simply.

It was your turn to let your brows furrow, motioning for him to elaborate.

“I’m living here too. There’s three bedrooms, it made sense,” he shrugged before sipping his beer.

You straightened up, “And I assume you stay here when you aren’t out galivanting across Europe, or LA or whatever?” you were being testy.

He placed his hand over his heart, “Ouch klutz, you know it hurts me when you trivialise my profession,” he was only half joking.

You rolled your eyes, “Well don’t take it to heart, apparently Jack doesn’t tell either of us much.”

Harry was full of mixed emotions - he had been from the moment he stumbled upon you in the kitchen, your back to him. He almost walked straight past you, stopping in his tracks the moments those familiar custom black and white Docs adorning your feet caught his attention.

His frustration only grew when he finally got a proper look at you. You wore straight-legged black jeans that you paired with an abstract black and white knitted sweater. A couple silver chains lay across your neck- they matched perfectly with the pair of large, hooped earrings and bracelets you wore.

Your hair was pinned away from your face, lest a few loose strands. Harry liked you this way, he could see your face with clarity, and he was certain you were nothing short of beautiful. Your lips were slick and glossy from the remnants of gin and tonic, and they looked awfully tasty.

Longing was mixed with confusion now, disappointed that he felt so ill-equipped in your presence, completely unaware of your attendance this evening. Harry’s mind was beginning to race, thinking about all of the things he could have- would have done differently. For starters he might have put more than two minutes into picking out an outfit. A sudden wave of insecurity flushed over him and he was praying you wouldn’t notice.

Any sign of confidence had momentarily dissipated, and Harry felt like a foolish teenager all over again, hopelessly pining over a woman who hardly ever paid him any attention.

He was more than grateful that Jack chose that very moment to reappear, going on about how the delivery guy had attempted to short-change him, before he grabbed a new bottle of beer and took a large gulp. Within a moment Jack was mid-discussion with you about his experience in the new neighbourhood so far.

Harry tried his hardest to keep his gaze from focusing on your features, letting his eyes roam the many familiar faces of guests nearby. But he faltered several times, settling on the way your eyelashes fluttered, or how the chunky ring on your thumb fit you just right.

He was so distracted he almost missed Jack asking him if he had heard what had just been said, for the second time now, mind you.

“I was saying it completely slipped my mind- forgot to even mention Y/n would be visiting this week.”

Harry mustered up a scoff before finishing off the last of his drink,

“Absolutely guttered over it, honestly mate” Harry feigned disappointment while glancing over at you,

“You know the ache in my heart for Y/n needs to be soothed, it’s simply selfish you would attempt to keep us apart.”

Jack only let out a bellowing laugh and nudged your shoulder with his own.

Though you found Harry more than attractive, you were also aware that the same thoughts always followed your admiration, you still saw him as your baby brothers’ best friend, goofy yet cocky, but all bark and no bite- surely.

The idea of him being a compatible lover was to a large degree, incomprehensible. Nevertheless, you did thoroughly enjoy Harry, at times, grateful that age had brough him more stability than just good looks.

“Oh, but Harry, as I’ve told you on numerous occasions, you would hardly be able to handle me.” You were playful, familiar teasing, but some truth still rang through.

His face changed, and then his stature followed suit. He leaned forward, his voice deepening, and his gaze remaining on you and you alone,

“I think we both know that’s not true.” And there he was again, as annoying, and full of cheek as ever.

Your eyes quickly darted over to Jack, his attention already straying elsewhere, then you turned your attention back to Harry, scoffing but working hard to remain unbothered.

“Well, uh, this is my… cue to mingle… I guess,” you nodded in their general direction before turning on your heels, leaving Harry with the same view of your back as before.

🍷

Harry remembers the first shot, and the second, but things were becoming less coherent after the third and fourth. He had a habit of overthinking these days, somewhere between the last breakup and the new album release, it had become far too easy for his thoughts to start spiralling- and by cruel repetition, you were once again the reason for his head being a million miles away from this party.

Speaking of, Harry had yet to see you again since your brief encounter in the kitchen- granted this is where Harry had remained the entire evening so far. He assumed you had to return, eventually, for a drink top-up, at the least.

He let the tequila slosh in his mouth for a moment before allowing it to burn its way down his throat. Still in his own head, no plans of leaving any time soon.

“Harry!” he could hear Jack calling from somewhere in the apartment.

He began following in the general direction, stepping into the crowded living room. Jack’s face lit up in an instant, pushing gently past a few people to get to him.

“Hey, where did you disappear to?” he asked, but hardly gave pause for Harry to respond before he was guiding the two of them through the mass of people out towards the balcony.

At first, he was resistant, but that was soon replaced with a hundred different feelings all at once when he spotted that you were already outside, your back leaning against the balcony’s railing- a Marlboro perched neatly between two fingers.

He was indulging in the idea of you once more, thinking back to the several fantasies he had always so ambitiously cast you as the main character in. You were always so cool, so calm, and collected, and well-defined. He had wanted to be more like you, to be with you.

Harry had always looked at you like he knew your secret- like he was somehow aware of how naughty your really were- hiding under the sly juxtaposition of a hard-working, put-together, golden-child. He could hardly recall this version of you nowadays, after the things he had heard you say- to him and about him.

Harry was more than grateful that Jack had already started walking towards you, giving him the needed excuse to speak to you again. He was hardly subtle with the way he was looking at you, so much so that you felt the need to draw attention to the man standing beside you.

Had he always been standing there?

Harry hardly flinched though, and if he had felt some type of way about it, he didn’t let it show on his face. Instead, he took another step forward before directing you,

“Looks like some things never change,” he knew you weren’t fond of his constant referencing of the past.

“Fuck off,” You responded with an eyeroll, taking a drag as he continued,

“You’re the splitting image- I mean minus the septum piercing, and the douchey boyfriend… well…” he glanced briefly, but noticeably at the blandly dressed guy still lingering by your side.

“Fuck you,” your tone was still playful though.

“Yeah? Been on my mind since I can remember.”

“Bet?”

“On my life,” he was careless with the wink he directed at you.

Harry would be lying if he said the thought of you being disinterested in him still crossed his mind, you were clearly humouring someone else this evening. The man next to you looked to be older than Harry, and like he worked some preppy nine-to-five. Surely nothing that could possibly catch your interest.

You were full of personality, intrigued and interested in so many things – Harry often accepted he could hardly keep up with you, but he was still certain the two of you had potential -not including the things he would let you do to him should you pay him even the slightest bit of attention.

He wanted to make a move, he always wanted to- but you were so beyond his reach- older and completely unwilling to acknowledge the fact that yes, he may still be irksome, but he was definitely not a young boy anymore.

Harry no longer wanted to get under your skin, but he would gladly settle to at least get under your garments. He was certain that if you were to, for just a moment, entertain the idea of you and him, he was sure to change your mind.

The guy to the left of you was particularly unmemorable, at least in your opinion, but it was better than standing and smoking alone. And you knew the tiniest part of you had been relieved, but only because you were aware it would annoy Harry - and you took almost any opportunity to do such.

Harry- who you hadn’t seen the entire evening - and don’t think you hadn’t acknowledged how bizarre it was of you to even notice that.

 Naturally, you could and would never go looking for him- what reason would you even have to talk to him?

Nevertheless, you reached over and passed him your cigarette, an old habit that only registered when he met you in the middle, accepting your offer in a heartbeat.

 Harry could hardly forget your little routine of bumming smokes together, hiding behind walls and bushes, afraid someone would catch you two in the act. There was a mutual sense of mischief and fondness- it was a time Harry could say with certainty that you definitely enjoyed his company- even seeking him out before sneaking through the back door, always ensuring he was by your side.

Everything about this evening was so out-of-character, from how calm Harry was - usually so full of boyishness fuelled by alcohol- down to how attractive you found it when a thick cloud of smoke slipped past his puckered lips, it felt like everything was moving in slow motion- what the fuck was happening?

You definitely needed another drink, suddenly remembering the half-empty bottle of Cirocque your date had pinched from the kitchen long before starting a conversation with you.

You had long forgotten the need for a glass and were already on your third sip, careful not to let any of the expensive liquid slip past your lips.

“Classy” Harry all but scoffed.

You stopped, the bottle leaving your lips with a soft squeak,

“Suddenly you don’t enjoy the idea of me being sloppy?”

You didn’t even bother looking at him, moving instinctively closer to Nick... was that his name? If Harry had wanted to say something he didn’t, thoughts of you being sloppy, slobbering for him were far too much to ignore.

Jack was filling the awkward silence by asking your ‘company’ several questions, which to Harry’s dismay, Nick was rather eager to answer.

­“I actually bumped into her tonight, couldn’t pass up the opportunity to strike up a conversation, and thankfully she didn’t seem to mind,” he laughed, but it oozed gawkiness, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes darted towards you looking for confirmation.

You forced a soft laugh but felt nothing for the man in general, he was good looking enough, and money probably wasn’t an issue for him, but saying you found him boring would have been an understatement.

Still, Harry was quick to resume irking you. He got under your skin in almost an instant, and you were always left a frustrated mess. He opened his mouth, ready to share a snarky remark, when the guy’s phone started ringing. He apologised briefly before stepping aside- but not before saying- and Harry couldn’t believe it,

“Ex-squeeze me for a moment.”

Your eyes went wide with the ick, and Harry was hardly subtle when he giggled and stole the empty space next to you.

Harry shifted to face you, meeting your side-profile before stating matter-of-factly,

“I couldn’t imagine you putting up with that kind of boredom, you should quit while you’re ahead.”

“And what exactly does your opinion have to do with anything? Considering you can’t speak from experience,” you huffed.

“Not from a lack of trying-”

“-but rather from my lack of interest,” you finished for him.

Harry was grateful that Jack had lost interest the minute it looked like you guys were starting to squabble, he wasn’t even facing you anymore.

“Think you’re missing out though.” Harry was uncertain about almost everything in life, but not about the idea of being with you.

“Have we not had this conversation before? And didn’t it end with me saying something like, ‘No Harry, I’m not interested in one measly round of missionary that leaves me nothing but dissatisfied.’”

Harry wanted to disagree, to give you a vivid idea of the things he would do to you right now just to prove you wrong- he would ensure he fucked you so good there could be no round two. But he knew that wasn’t the way to go about things.

Instead, he simply said,

“Well, you know what they say about assumptions.”

You rolled your eyes, and stood up straight now, turning to him sternly,

“For your sake, I surely hope assuming is as good as the real thing,” tapping his chest condescendingly before you turned on your heels and headed back inside the party and away from Harry.

🍷

You hadn’t seen Harry so moody in years. He seemed to have no interest in partaking in the ongoing festivities. In fact, he was brooding in the corner of the kitchen, back pressed firmly against the wall. He was deep in thought, brows furrowed, jaw slightly clenched.

His hair was starting to look slightly dishevelled, from all the times he had ran his hands through it. He was looking good though. You decided he would look perfect underneath you, or perhaps even looking up at you.

But you quickly, and aggressively, shook your head, trying to eradicate these inappropriate thoughts, almost scolding yourself aloud before quickly accepting a tequila from an old schoolmate you had been catching up with in the kitchen.

You called out for Jack, looking at the shot glass sitting on the countertop filled to the brim. You were starting to feel good- really good, buzzing slightly. That familiar playfulness you always felt after indulging in vices was making its appearance.

When he failed to respond, you only shrugged before taking the shooter on his behalf, tossing it back with little regard before turning to look back at the living room, eyes finding their way back to Harry- who was still brooding in the corner all alone.

Without coherent rationality you found yourself heading towards the bathroom having to pass him in the process.

Maybe you did enjoy the attention Harry gave you- or perhaps this was just another attempt to reciprocate the frustration he had left you with just earlier.

As you began past him, you slowed to a complete halt- his head snapping up, the surprise evident on his features as two of your icy fingers reached up and hooked themselves onto the collar of his shirt. You tugged it down and to the side- exposing part of his collarbone and bird tattoo. With one finger, you gently tapped his skin twice before releasing the shirt altogether,

“Hm,” your gaze slowly lifted and met his- he was too scared to blink. You leaned forward,

“Swallows,” you paused and thought about it for a moment,

“Your tattoos and I have that in common.”

You didn’t wait to see his response, stepping back and heading towards the bathroom. His skin felt scorched in their wake.

Harry was stunned, naturally, his thoughts in an absolute frenzy. He had been angry, actually upset after you had belittled him so effortlessly just earlier- this evening was quickly turning nightmarish. And now, you were teasing him- taunting him, actually. Harry hadn’t stopped thinking about you the entire evening. Why was he so fixated? This couldn’t be healthy.

He hadn’t - and didn’t feel this way about any of the other women in his life. There was just something about you. He liked you. Always had. Harry had a feeling there was still more to you and he had the aching desire to find out.

He had been back home for a while now, so focused on his album that his personal life had ended up on the backburner without a second thought. Tonight, in the comfort of his new home he could no longer ignore his thoughts veering astray. Particularly the thoughts entailing your thighs, bare and wrapped around his waist.

He stood there for a moment, your words swirling around, getting louder until he could hear nothing *but your sweet, sweet voice. And though you were probably just fucking with him, Harry was no longer thinking clearly – a man on a mission as he left his spot by the wall and followed after you.

You were just stepping back into the passage when you spotted Harry walking toward you with what looked like determination- and possibly certainty. He was just feet away from you within an instant, and you hardly had a second to comprehend before he pressed his chest to yours- pushing you back softly into the silver and white wallpaper.

You looked up, gasping as he pinned you between his arms, both hands pressed against the wall just above your shoulders. His face was closer to yours than ever before and your eyes darted back and forth, studying his soft frown, forehead crinkling, and brows furrowed. His frustration was blatant, but the lustful sparkle in his eyes was unmistakable.

“What-” you started but Harry was quick to cut you off, leaning that much closer,

“-give me a chance,” it came out in one breath, fanning across your face.

You blinked back. He was incredulous. This was worst-case-scenario- you had been avoiding this type of interaction the entire night, and with one sentence you had thrown it all down the drain. And now here he was, so close. His chest pressed against yours, leg slotted between yours, brushing against your skin, breathing fast, and heavy, he smelled good, and looked better.

The fluttering in your stomach was unfamiliar- intrigued and excited. You wondered what exactly he had in mind if you were to in fact give him a chance. Something told you that there was more to him; that he might be anything but all-talk. The way he looked at you, how filthy he spoke to you, even the way he touched you when permitted.

You were concerned about losing control, leaning into him, touching him- but concern wasn’t enough when you slung your arm around his neck, nails scratching the base of his neck. Harry’s eyes dropped, head tilting closer, your foreheads brushing.

His words still echoing, “give me a chance, give me a chance.”

“I said, I don’t think you could handle-” you tried,

“-I think you’re bullshit,” he interrupted, and you let out a soft gasp,

“That’s mean,” your other arm linking around his shoulders,

“You’re mean,” he muttered just above your ear, before a soft kiss was pressed below your lobe,

“Matter of opinion,” you sighed, raking your nails along his jaw,

“I disagree,” a chaste kiss to your jaw,

“You always do,” thumb sliding along his bottom lip,

Harry dropped his arm, hand coming up to hold the side of your jaw, tilting you upward until you were blinking up at him. He had never seen you like this before; it felt so natural and surreal, seconds away from rectifying the last twenty plus years.

You were ready to meet him in the middle, shutting out everything that wasn’t him. You were at his mercy, foolishly waiting on edge for him to finally kiss you. His thumb copied yours, brushing against your lip before slipping slightly into your mouth, grazing your teeth.

You rose off of your heels, leaning up to impatiently close the gap, his hands moving to cup your face- he was looking at you lazily, lips slick, plump and puckered just for you,

“Let me kiss you,” he whispered,

“No.”

“Please?” so softly, your eyes fluttering shut - when out of nowhere,

“Harry?” it came from far at first, but was quickly followed by another, “Harry!”

It was Jack- drunk and loud- bellowing from the kitchen and heading straight for the hallway.  

As if you had been set alight, you removed your arms and gave Harry a harsh shove until he stumbled back and looked at you with a mix of sheer shock and confusion. Before he could speak, Jacked turned the corner and cheered,

“I found you!” he was drunker than when either of you last saw him, stumbling around, eyes barely open.

Harry was so startled and full of disappointment he could barely comprehend. He was seconds away from kissing you- and now, when he glanced your way, you were a blushing mess, averting eye contact, arms wrapped firmly across your chest.

He managed to come to a stop, leaning his shoulder and head against the wall,

“I’m so sleepy, have I spent enough time mingling? Can I go to bed without saying goodnight? I don’t think anyone would care and I mean, like I said, I’m really tired.”

Jack was pouting and the eyeroll Harry sent his way could hardly convey his annoyance.

It was then that you coughed softly, Harry’s head snapping your direction in an instant,

“Good plan. I think I should get going anyway, been a long day,” you shrugged, looking anywhere but in Harry’s direction.

You were mortified- and you weren’t sure if it was because of Jack, or Harry. Either way you were still fully to blame, and it was time to make a run for it. You could feel Harry’s unwavering gaze, so strong it made you ache with awkwardness.

Jack nodded along, head droopier, eyes drowsier, “Y/n, you rock!”

“Facts.” You chuckled.

“True rock n’ roller babyyyy!” he sung out, and it seems both you and Harry took that as a cue,

“Alright Jack let’s get you to bed,” Harry took him by the shoulder, taking one last longing look at you. You glanced up for a brief moment, eyes wide. And then you were mumbling your goodbye’s and heading for the front door.

As the door shut behind you, you pressed your back against it and let out the longest sigh, pressing your face into your hands, pushing harder and harder, forcing all fuzziness to disappear. The embarrassment was seeping from your everywhere, and worse- you knew you would have to see him again.

🍷

Jack had not stopped moaning and groaning from the minute you both sat down across from one another. The breeze directs the sun’s glare directly above the table, and whilst you are most grateful for this marvellous weather, Jack does not seem to agree. Though, you could chalk that up to the hangover he was currently nursing.

You two had made plans for a brunch catch-up after the housewarming, but apparently you had failed to consider that your brother was obviously still a man-child. Did he need three-to-five workdays to recover?

After all these years, you would have hoped that Jack might have learned to handle his liquor, swap a few tequilas for a sip of water. He truly was a baby, looking devoid of sleep, hair sticking up in all directions, and after what felt like the millionth grunt, you finally looked up from your phone,

“Dude. It’s already midday. Is this going to be another one of those full day recoveries? Because we are not teens anymore; I am no longer obligated to take care of you-“

Harry interrupted your train of thought as he seemed to pop-up out of nowhere, towering over you and stealing the sun in the process. He’s sporting a chunky-knitted sweater, the black tank top peeking out matches his flared pants and boots. He looks cosy.

But he is soaking up all the warmth, stealing it for his own, peering down at you, green eyes half-hidden behind his ray-bans.

“For the love of god, sit down already.” You groaned, wrapping your favourite blue, corduroy overcoat across your chest as a small shiver took over your arms.

Harry chuckled, looking at you curiously as he slid out a chair and sat himself down next to Jack- who whined meekly when his and Harry’s elbows briefly touched.

“Christ. What is with you two today? Is this a Y/L/N thing?” he was amused, settling back further into his seat, removing his shades, and running a hand lazily through his hair.

Jack, whose head was now resting directly on the table, lifted up slightly and attempted to get out a coherent sentence,

“M’just alitt wreckddd is’all…” he tried.

Harry looked at him incredulously, turning to you with a smile so wide it reached his eyes. And he looked warm- warm and snug and somehow radiating an energy that quickly became contagious. It made you smile softly, and then you were chuckling along, happy be in his company.

“Last time you mix drinks, huh Jack?”

He whined once more.

Harry shifted towards you, elbows stretching out across the table, he let his stare linger for a moment longer than you both knew was necessary. You felt hot under his gaze, observed and uncomfortable with the sudden shift of attention. But before you could settle into this unfamiliar feeling, he sent a swift wink your way.

“See something you like?” your brows arched.

“More than,” Harry nodded in satisfaction. “I don’t want to do the things I want to do with you with people I just like.”

Now you were red in the face for another reason, eyes desperately darting over to see if Jack heard, unsurprised to find that he was almost fast asleep.

And you hope your eyeroll and lack of response will come off as a tactical choice- Harry didn’t need to know how he made you feel. Flustered and confused.

“Did you have fun at your little housewarming?” you attempted to deflect.

He nodded, “My favourite part was when you were about to let me kiss you… pity about the interruption,” eyes glancing over at Jack’s sleepy figure.

Now you were blushing for sure, steam threatening to spill from your ears and nostrils. You couldn’t have regretted coming home more than in this moment.

“I wouldn’t have kissed you. Interruption or not.”

“I believe otherwise.”

“I believe otherwise about your believing of otherwise” you huffed out quickly, brows furrowed.

Harry laughed fetchingly, arms sliding across the table until they were almost bumping your own. His stare was unwavering,

“You’re in such denial. If it weren’t so painful, I’d find it that much more endearing”

“All I heard was endearing.”

“Well, you are,” he leaned closer, “extremely endearing.”

Before you had a moment to react, Harry brought his hand down against the table, startling Jack awake. They looked at each other sternly before Jack scoffed,

“Dick.”

You took the final sip of your coffee before turning towards the two men; Jack was a sight for sore eyes, and if you spend any longer around Harry, your head might explode in confusion.

“Jack is it safe to assume we won’t be going to the market anymore?” you barely finished before he started protesting. Typical.

“Market?” Harry interjected?

“Some little art thingy Y/n heard about”

“On 4th street” your eyes rolled.

“Sounds fun” Harry shrugged.

“That’s what I thought” you mimicked.

Jack was already standing up when he got a bright idea,

“Harry, why don’t you go with Y/n? Let me get some damn sleep while she talks your ear off.”

You were a mess of protests, assuring them both that there was really no need. But Harry seemed married to the idea.

“Sounds perfect. 4th street you said?” Jack nodded.

“Really Harry, it’s not necessary- “you tried but he only shushed you,

“-Don’t worry sweets, I’ll gladly let you talk my ear off.” Winking, he joined as you all stood from the table and regrouped outside the entrance.

After a brief goodbye, Jack started heading home. And within a minute, Harry had wrapped his warm palm around yours, tugging you forward until you stumbled into line with him.

“It’s close by, lets walk.”

Harry didn’t even look your way as he moved you both forward, weaving past cars and a woman walking her Labrador. You take two steps at a time, trying desperately to keep up as you both made it safely across the road.

“Harry- “you tried, losing your footing for a moment as he powered forward, “For fuck’s sake Harry, slow down.”

He stopped abruptly, his back creating a wall for your chest to bump into.

Harry didn’t say anything when you protested, didn’t let go of your hand as he started walking forward again. He took small steps, making sure you were able to keep up with him.

Your hand felt warm and smothered within his, a fireball sparking and crackling between your palms; ready to set off an explosion that may swallow your head and heart whole. You try to focus on otherwise, taking notice of the shop windows blurring past.

Harry squeezed your hand gently, bringing your gaze to his, “Let’s go here.” he motioned towards a little bakery stand, guiding you both to the warm glass protecting a sweet collection of muffins, cookies, pastries galore.

He refused to let you go as he caught the attention of the server, “Everything smells so good!” he complimented her before continuing, “Could we please get a couple custard slices and a chocolate croissant?”

Your heart leapt as she nodded along enthusiastically and began bagging the pastries, turns out your croissant-obsession was so strong even Harry had caught on.

Nevertheless, you gazed up at him curiously, and he only smiled back sweetly before finally releasing you from his grip, fishing into his pocket for his wallet.

Your hand missed his- and you hated that, dismissing the thought completely as he handed you the warm paper bag; the sweet smell of fresh pastry had you almost burying your face forward, and Harry laughed, motioning you back towards the bustling street.

You were already stuck into the croissant, flakes fluttering everywhere- some even settling on your chin. Harry noticed you were no longer keeping up, looking over his shoulder before halting completely. You caught up; eyes still glued to your pastry, and you barely even noticed him, continuing forward- and now he had to take a long stride to catch up.

He was eyeing you intently as you devoured the remains, crumpling up the bag with a satisfied sigh. You hadn’t noticed his gaze, turning absentmindedly,

“What?” Your brow raised quizzically, using the back of your hand to dust off any excess crumbs.

“Nothing,” he mused, “you’re cute, is all.”

“Stop.” You huffed. Thankfully, the two of you had finally reached 4th street and there were stalls set up everywhere, bright colours of multiple mediums decorating the walls, the streets- the people.

Harry stopped next to you, unnecessarily leaning against you,

“Wow.” He sighed, “This is… amazing.”

You nodded along, “haven’t been to one of these in years.”

He looked over curiously, “Used to come to these things often?”

“Whenever I had the chance, yeah” you made your way to a stand nearby, getting lost in several lino-print’s, deep blue’s melting into mustard yellows and burnt orange. Harry joined you, leaning forward to get a better look.

After a few moments, you turned your attention to another stand displaying bold psychedelic canvases, varying in shapes and sizes. They were so beautiful, telling thousands of stories all at once. Harry was peering over your shoulder, studying the blotches of colour with deep curiosity.

“This one… is so… interesting.” He pointed slightly, eyes never leaving the artwork. Harry was often quick to forget the other arts. Music was now full-on lifestyle and left little time for much else these days.

“Hm,” you replied curiously, continuing to scan the other pieces.

Eventually, Harry stepped away, starting to head towards a stand further down the street. Clay ashtrays, figurines, jewellery, and other accessories decorated the table, and by the time you had caught up, he was already in the middle of purchasing several necklaces and bracelets ranging from royal blue to candy red.

“I like this one,” you pointed to a lime green bracelet, peeking out of the other beads strewn across his palm.

“I do too,” he agreed with a large grin.

You waited for Harry’s new purchases to be paid for and placed into a paper bag. He bumped his hip into yours, motioning for you both to continue down the street.

Harry was keeping as close as possible, ensuring his arm brushed your shoulder with every opportunity. As you turned the corner onto another street, and before you could hold yourself back, you were power walking towards a stall displaying, what you would later refer to as, a masterpiece.

Considering you were often surrounded by art; it wasn’t often that a piece had you this fixated. Harry had never seen you so engrossed in something- few had.

And Harry was patient as you observed, taking your time asking the artist questions- throwing around words that sounded so foreign to him, it only made you that much more attractive, seeing you in your element.

When you were finally content, you said a sweet goodbye, and gestured Harry to continue on down the street. A comfortable silence often fell neatly between the two of you, every now and then pointing out something, asking for one another’s opinion, preference.

“How’s work?” he asked,

“Loving it, actually. I was kinda nervous the job would be as trash as the one I had here…” you really hadn’t enjoyed the hustle-and-bustle of being smack-dab in the metropolitan area. Every other person was a cut-throat, a cry-baby, or just a complete asshole. It had drained almost every ounce of your passion and drive, if you had stayed a moment longer you were sure to have slipped into another bough of melancholy.

“I’m happy to hear that,” he said genuinely- Harry had hated seeing you so stressed, always seeming on the brink of tears.

“I liked the new album, by the way.” that sparked his attention,

“Yeah?”

You nodded, “Don’t let it get to your head now,” you were teasing, but wanted to make sure he knew you were being genuine, “I liked it- I loved it.”

🍷

Harry was now running late, in his own home, spending an excessive amount of time deciding between which of two shirts to wear. As soon as he had settled on a loose, black cotton button up - which he had left partly-unbuttoned and had rolled the sleeves up to his elbows – he immediately decided to change his pants and shoes.

After slipping into his new silk, embroidered-lavender slacks, he paired the outfit with shiny, point-tipped black boots. Harry was putting on the last of his jewellery and spritzing his favourite cologne while the music droned through the gaps under his door- the number of voices growing by the minute.

Harry found himself rather nervous, palms threatening to clam up as he thought about seeing you again. He knew these feelings he was having were getting out of hand. He hadn’t been in such close contact with you in years- the last time was possibly after you graduated college.

And back then, you were wrapped up in your then-relationship, dragging him along to all events. Harry was sure he had only seen you on one occasion without them. It was an important night for him- when you two were temporarily alone again.

He was sure he was in love with you back then. You consumed his every waking thought. Harry would, and did, do anything to be near you – to make you laugh, to pick your brain, sometimes just to be in your presence.

Then life hurled forward, days turned to weeks, and suddenly it was at least a year before he saw you again. You had since abandoned your relationship- and were about to ditch your home and career here in London. Harry saw you a couple weeks before you left- he didn’t have to persuade you much when he offered to come over with Jack to help box up your apartment.

But by then, he was already hot in the middle of making albums and touring arenas, he couldn’t designate the time to properly mourn your departure. It only occurred to him that you were no longer home when he came back after the band’s final tour.

Every now and then he’d hear updates or see a few photos courtesy of your mom and Jack. For a moment his heartrate would pick up, thoughts becoming a jumbled mess – what does your new home look like? What do you do in your spare time? Are you having fun?

And now here you were with all your friends, celebrating being a decade older, in his house. If he thought about it too long, his nausea would resurface. All Harry could do now was take one final look in the mirror before leaving his room, making his way towards the party.

He couldn’t believe how many guests had already arrived – had he really spent that long getting ready? A small sea of people had already formed, mid-conversations, mixing drinks, having a smoke on the balcony.

His eyes scanned the room, acknowledging people he knew as he searched desperately for you. Come to think of it, he wasn’t sure if you had even arrived yet.

He was about to give up and head over to the bar when he spotted something sparkly bobbing behind a group of people near the door to the balcony. He followed the shimmers, greeting guests as he wove through them. He stopped at the glass door.

Harry’s head, as well as his heart, had melted into a puddle as his gaze landed on you, leaning against the balcony with a cigarette perched between your cherry-gloss lips.

He couldn’t hear over the thumping in his head, the only thing comprehensible was how incredible you looked. Which was an understatement of note.

You had chosen an extremely well-fitted, watermelon pink dress. It settled neatly across your upper thighs, cinching in at the waist, white frill accentuating your cleavage and connecting to two delicate bows that worked as straps strewn across your shoulders.

You had swapped out your docs for a pair of white, latex boots (each with a hot pink heart) stopping just above your ankles, as well as white fishnet stockings.

And to top it all off, your head adorned some sort of princess tiara covered in sparkly glitter- the beacon that had just led Harry directly to you.    

Harry still hadn’t moved when Jack, who he hadn’t even noticed was standing beside you, caught his attention. And as soon as Jack lit up with eagerness, your focus shifted too, almost dropping your cigarette as you sent a wide grin his way- eyes beaming with excitement.

“Haaarryyy!” you enthused, arms waving as you did a little hip wiggle.

Harry felt like he had just stepped into a fever dream. But he was quick to reciprocate, matching your grin as he made his way over.

You were bouncing on your toes, and he had barely come to a halt before you lurched forward, flinging your arms around his shoulders for a boisterous, but doting embrace. Harry’s arms wrapped around your upper back, pulling you close, stumbling, and living for the sound of your giggles.

“Happy birthday, klutz.” He said in a sing-song tone, rocking you back and forth.

You pulled away, singing back a sweet “thank you” before leaning up to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek. Harry prayed it was too dark out- hoped you wouldn’t notice the way his face turned so red.

And you didn’t, bouncing from heel to heel back to your spot next to Jack. You picked up and sipped at a drink that was almost spilling from your glass, and as your lips met the sweet liquid your eyes widened with something else in mind.

“Shots.” You stated seriously but couldn’t help it as you began smiling mischievously.

“Shots!” Jack matched your energy and suddenly Harry was reminded that you and your brother were a deadly combination.

Usually, it was you who would end up responsible for reeling Jack and Harry in when they got too rowdy- chasing after them in a weak attempt to corral their belligerent bodies into whatever vehicle was on standby. But courtesy of making it another trip around the sun, you were two steps ahead of the boys, slipping past friends who all took turns attempting to halt you for a chat.

By the time the two men had caught up, you were already lining up four luminous shot glasses- they hadn’t noticed Nova [one of your nearest and dearest friends from school] had already joined you. The two of you were now chatting away, paying no mind as Jack took over the shot-dispensing duty.

In between enthusiastic exchanges, Harry greeted Nova and managed to get in a few catch-up questions before you completely distracted her with something so out of context he didn’t bother trying to keep up.

Thankfully it wasn’t long before a glass of Don Julio was being passed his way, your fingers brushing against his in the process.

Before anyone even attempted to take a sip, Jack was calling everyone to a holt, “We have to toast!” and everyone groaned. But he was unphased,

“Despite being the greatest pain in my ass, you’re also the greatest person I’ve ever known. You’re a real grown-up now, shithead, and I can’t wait to see what thirty has in store for you.”

You pouted sweetly, eyes bashful as your three friends started saying cheers, clinking their tequilas together. Harry tapped his glass against yours, seconds away from lifting it to his lips-

“Hey, hey- “you scolded, and he held back any panic, “You have to look each other in the eye before you cheers.”

Harry smiled in relief, locking your gaze as he brought his glass back to yours,

“Definitely don’t want seven years of bad sex,”

He sent a wink your way as your glasses separated, tilting his head back, swallowing quickly.

“Especially when you’re finally back in town.”

Jack spotted Mitch and Adam mingling nearby, quicky motioning them over. Harry wanted to keep talking to you though, his mind hadn’t strayed from you, nor had his gaze. But you were all amped-up, swaying from side-to-side, cheesy grin, eyes crinkling as you reacted to something Nova said.

Thankfully, Harry was gifted with an opportunity when Jack suddenly realised Nova hadn’t yet met the other guys. He called her over, leaving you leaning across the bar, perched on your elbows.

“Care for a drink, senorita?” your ears perked up at that, Harry was already pretending to roll up his sleeves, gently bumping his hip with yours. You turned, leaning your back against the counter now as Harry reached over and grabbed a cocktail glass. He got to work, grabbing an assortment of drinks and ingredients and you found your eyes wandering to his arms and hands.

Harry must have felt you staring, looking over at you in between mixing ice and some pink concoction,

“You look incredible, by the way,” he busied himself, grabbing different utensils, glancing back to reaffirm his statement.

“You reckon?” standing up straight, you did a good job doing a little show for him, making sure he got a good view of all the frills and your figure.

He stopped in his tracks and nodded profusely, “Incredible. Definitely designer right?”

“You’ll die,” you stepped closer, straight-faced. He waited,

“Lacroix, ’91. From their spring collection.”

Harry was impressed, excited to finish off this marvellous drink with raspberries and strawberries,

“Christ. What did you do to get your hands on it?”

“Sold my soul.”

“To the Devil?”

“No, her name was actually Giovanna- bitchy creative director from Milan. Love her to death.”

Harry found you more endearing by the second. He added a finishing touch of white sugar, turning to you proudly, his creation on display,

“Voila! Special birthday cocktail for the special birthday girl.”

“Ooh! It’s pretty,” you marvelled,

“Matches your dress,” he pointed out as he placed the drink in your hand.

You took a sip, eyes widening in delight. It was simply delicious, and you couldn’t be sure if Harry had even known what he was doing when he made it.

“This is incredible,” you whined, taking another long sip, “Do I taste watermelon?”

“And litchi, with vodka- which I recall is a personal favourite of yours,” he had hit the nail on the head, naturally.

“Thanks Harry,” you said sweetly, “I don’t think I’ve tasted anything so good.”

Your eyes widened in an instant, as did his, and you were more than thankful when he chose to substitute a snide comment with a cheeky smirk and wink.

Nova returned to your side, making a few remarks about how sweet Adam seems, asking Harry where he was from. She suddenly remembered something and excitedly tapped you, almost causing your drink to spill.

“- She’s here? No ways! I haven’t seen her since the debauchery of Nina’s baby-shower” you enthused, eyes hastily shifting around the room for this so-called friend, gasping softly when you spotted her in the near distance.

With eagerness you wrapped your hand around Nova’s, dragging her off into the crowd. Harry turned his attention to Mitch and Adam- who had already struck up a conversation - only catching a glimpse of your back disappearing amongst the guests.

Harry was starting to feel frustrated; confusion and longing were swirling around his head with such fervour it was moments away from eating him alive. It was time for him to make a conscious effort to stop thinking about you and to start enjoying the party in honour of… well, you.

But he was determined, fixing himself a straight scotch, sloshing it back before quickly refilling and joining in the heated football debate that was escalating by the minute.

🍷

With your absence, Harry found himself mingling with people he hadn’t seen in years – some of these exchanges even being rather pleasant. He was on drink three, Jack seemed to be on at least double that. Speaking of Jack, he had been itching for a cigarette, his favourite drunken-accessory, and Harry gladly followed him out- finally feeling relaxed and frankly, almost buzzing.

The balcony, though large, was crowded. The air was perfect, spring in full swing. To his surprise, Harry spotted two empty chairs off to the side, dragging Jack along. They were going back-and-forth, trying to figure out the names of several guests.

“I think our twelfth-grade English teacher is here, what was his name?” Jack clicked his fingers searching his thoughts for the right answer, “Mister… I wanna say Twat?” he pondered, “No, that can’t be it… Twatman?”.

 “Watman. Mr. Watman.” Harry scoffed, “I’m surprised you remembered him to begin with. I don’t recall you attending a single class.”

“You’re just jealous I was skipping class to make-out with cheerleaders.”

“Which cheerleaders?”

“That’s irrelevant.”

Harry lips parted to respond, his head snapping instantly at the sound of your melodic voice bellowing across the balcony. You were on your own, a small, abstract clutch in one hand, and now you were bounding over, calling out,

“I was wondering where you were.”

Harry wasn’t sure who of the two you was addressing, but his heart couldn’t help but jump at the possibility that you may have been seeking him out after all.

You stopped before them, scanning your surroundings before suddenly, and shamelessly, you plopped yourself down horizontally across Harry’s lap. In utter shock, he peered over at Jack who not only ignored the fact but sparked up a conversation.

“Do you remember that strange professor? Taught year twelve English lit, I think.”

You thought about it, further settling into Harry’s lap, paying zero attention to him as you began unzipping and searching through your clutch. You pulled out a dainty container of weed, blunt-wrap, and a tube of cherry lip gloss,

“Yeah, yeah. Twatman right?”

“See, Harry!” Jack exclaimed, pointing your way.

But Harry’s head was miles away, his entire body heating up, your skin burning against his thighs. Every time you moved, breathed- he had to calm his own, but he was more than thankful for the permanent view of your side profile- cute nose and all. You started rolling, telling Jack some bizarre information about their old teacher. You both theorized about a secret relationship, while Harry sat idly by, adamant on being your ideal chair.

It was only a couple minutes later when you finished up, poking your tongue out as you ran it across the length of the joint. You could feel Harry’s eyes on you, choosing to ignore them as you returned to your clutch to fish out a lighter.

You crossed one leg over the other, adjusting and taking subtle notice of Harry’s squeamishness before placing the joint between your lips, starting to light up.

Harry’s head was foggy for two reasons now, a thick cloud of smoke leaving your lips and fanning out across his unsuspecting face. He blinked back a few times, trying hard to maintain stillness. After taking another quick drag, you leaned forward, thighs momentarily pressing further into Harry’s as you passed the joint over to Jack.

The joint had barely touched his lips before Jack was coughing and spluttering, eyes watering as he hunched forward and put his hand across his forehead.

“Jesus, Y/n- “he was trying to laugh but it came out sounding like a failed-beatboxer, “-fucking strong. Where did you get this?” he attempted to swallow residual coughs as he stretched over and handed the joint back to you.

“Same place I usually get it,” you paused and took a lengthy drag, sharply inhaling before letting the smoke slip through your lips,

“Purple haze. She gave me extra courtesy of the big three-oh.”

“Seems your senior citizen discount has already come in handy,” Jack mused, still holding back from coughing.

“Get fucked,” you huffed, turning your attention to Harry, who instantly felt hot under the collar,

“Still up to no good?” your lips turning upward as you gestured to the joint perched between your fingers.

Harry nodded up at you, his doe-eyes blinking bashfully. With that, you lifted your hand and as he parted his plump lips, you slotted the joint between them. Your fingers brushed against his chin, nails grazing his lips as you held him in place, letting him take a lengthy inhale as your eyes trained the freckles scattered across his face.

Up close, he looked soft, and raw - your eyes felt like they had turned into magnifying glasses, noting the stubble scattered across his chin, the crinkles between his focused-brow, the stray curls slipping across his forehead- and before you could stop yourself, you had concluded that he was beautiful, and that denying your attraction for him was at this point, futile.

He looked up at you through his thick, fluttering lashes, leaning back slightly and you pulled your hand away, bringing the joint back to your own lips. You were still looking at Harry intently when the corner of his eyes crinkled, his lips parting to expose a pearly grin,

“See something you like?” he asked.

And you did your very best to remain unphased, inhaling sharply before you tilted towards him, speaking just above a whisper,

“I don’t want to do the things I want to do with you with people I just like.”

Your voice mocked his deep and slow tone, taking pleasure in exaggerating each and every syllable.

Harry gulped. You pushed the joint towards him, and he bent forward- more than necessary- gladly accepting anything you had to offer. His head was still swirling, convinced you were emitting a vibrant glow, aiming it directly at him.

Harry bravely tapped his fingers along your shin, feeling lulled and content. You had fully relaxed now, leaning your shoulder against his,

“Having fun, birthday girl?”

“Yes sir,” you rested your head- just barely touching his shoulder,

Harry must have been dreaming- stoned and hallucinating, either way he let his hands trail up and down your leg, tapping his foot side-to-side, humming almost inaudibly.

And then in the blink of an eye, you were standing up, leaving him cold and longing once more. You looked over at Jack who had finished coughing and was now staring directly up at the sky. His eyes were darting back-and-forth, acknowledging each star.

You let the joint slip from your fingers, using the toe of your boot to put it out,

“Well boys, I’m off to get a refill,” you tapped Harry’s shoulder gently,

“Glad you can still keep up.”

He looked over at Jack - who was still looking up – and without a word, Harry was out of his seat, hot on your trails. If tonight had taught him anything it was that you were quick on your feet, already at the bar as you scanned the scatter of bottles.

Before he could announce his presence, you turned to him briefly in acknowledgement, “do you still have that photo album I made for your eighteenth?”

“Random.” He said curiously, watching as you turned back and continued examining the bottles.

“I know,” you nodded your back still to him, “I saw a bunch of albums in the living room, just wondered if you still had it.”

Harry thought about it for a second, “I do.”

Thousands of memories flooding back to him, “It’s in my room actually.”

“Is this a just ploy to get me alone?” You turned to fully face him now, eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Yes.” He teased sternly.

You nodded, turned, and grabbed an unopened bottle of 1982 Bordeaux, and motioned towards the direction of the bedrooms,

“Lead the way.”

You stayed close, following Harry down the hallway to the foot of his door. It was already ajar, and he used his foot to push it open fully, flicking on the light switch before stepping aside to welcome you in. You took a couple steps forward before he shut the door and walked off in search of the album.

You took in the room, pleasantly overwhelmed by how much it still screamed Harry. You remembered his last room and even spotted his old record player, his rustic bookshelf, a framed poster of Doctor Frankenfurter, and of course his first guitar- dinged-up and faded- just the way you liked it.

Harry was shuffling through one of the draws of his dressing table, his back to you, as you crouched down and began unzipping your boots. The carpet beneath your fishnets was thick, white, and fluffy- and before you could help yourself, you were now fully sitting down, legs crossed, arms working to remove the bottles cork.

Harry cheered softly as he found what he was looking for, grabbing the album- blue, with a hand-painted portrait of himself on the cover. When he turned and noticed your current position, he slipped off his own shoes and plopped down across from you, crossing his legs.

He dropped the album between the two of you, pairing a cheery, “ta-da” with jazz hands.

You did a little dance- what you could manage from your position- as the cork finally popped off and you took a swift swig before passing it to Harry.

He gladly accepted, and as the bottle reached his lips, Harry suddenly acknowledged the situation he was currently in. nerves rushing in from all directions, and he took an extra couple sips on account.

You were already flipping through the first few pages, grinning sweetly, and pausing to take a better look at some of the pictures. Harry was looking too, but mostly at you. He liked how you focused, how fondly you smiled, and he was only seconds away from getting caught staring.

“Oh god, do you remember this day?” you leaned forward, fingers tracing a photo of Harry dressed as a cowboy, sporting a fake moustache, and aiming a water gun at the camera. He nodded fondly, reminding you that shortly after the picture was taken, you threw up all over a rosebush- fully dressed as a brothel-lady - bonnet, and all.

With that, you flipped the page with haste, scanning some of the others, stopping to think- sometimes to reminisce. And then you came across the one picture Harry would have traded the world for. The two of you were sat on a couch, your legs draped across the armrest, your head Harry’s lap. The sun was setting, creating a silhouette of the perfect tableau. It was the beginning of one of his favourite evenings to date. Whoever took the photo hadn’t stuck around, the most important part of this memory was that it was just you two- an anomaly.

Before he could stop himself, Harry pointed down at the photo, “This one is my favourite.”

You followed his hand, looking down intently at the little moment caught on film,

“We drank so much wine that night,” you giggled fondly, careful not to give any feelings you may have harboured away.

“You sang,” He said,

“For you,” you emphasised,

“For me.” He nodded.

A silence settled and Harry took another sip, remembering your twirls, drinking, spilling from the bottle, the way your hair fell, the way he felt. The night way playing out on super speed, too many moments jumbling together, and then he couldn’t stop the blush from rushing to his cheeks,

“Oh god. I danced. A lot.” He remembered the moves far too well.

How could you forget? He was clumsy on his feet, creating a brand-new style. And he was so off-beat, no rhythm, moving any which way as long as it caused you some sort of reaction- preferably an endearing laugh, which you were of course currently doing,

“Yeah, you danced a lot.” You smiled innocently, “For me.”

“For you.”

Harry caught your gaze, the air between you thick with tension and lust. He wanted crawl right on over, grab your face and smother you in kisses. And the way you were looking back at him, Harry was almost convinced you might actually want him to do that too.

Neither moved, hardly blinked, and you were so hot under the collar it was torturous. You felt completely trapped, losing all self-control and about to slink straight into his lap. In sheer panic, you turned back to the album, flipping through pages at a time.

There was a photo of Harry, Jack, and an old friend of theirs from school. They were dressed in football attire, getting ready for a match.

“Oh, I remember this guy. Andy, right?” you taunted, glancing up to gauge his reaction,

Harry couldn’t stop his jaw from clenching, eyes rolling.

“He was cute,” you tried, “Didn’t he have a thing for me?”

Harry scoffed. Of course Andy had fancied you- Harry almost lost his mind every time he made any comments expressing crudeness or adoration for you. He had bitten his tongue so many times it was habitual when he found himself doing it now.

He still hadn’t spoken, you were fascinated as his pupils dilated, angst creeping up across his features. You took another sip of the wine, eyeing him before pushing once more,

“Maybe I should have given him a chance…”

Harry barely let you finish, “He couldn’t’ve handled it.”

You laughed harshly, absolutely amused, and horrifyingly, extremely enticed. So, you uncrossed your legs, splaying them out in front of you, toes tapping his crossed ankles,

“You really think you -”

“- Yes.” He finished for you.

In your opinion, his certainty was the most attractive thing he had ever done. He suddenly wrapped his hands around your ankles and gently tugged you forward.

You let out a small gasp as your bum slid forward, Harry unravelling his legs, all the while dragging you further into his grasp. You were lured straight into his lap, naturally wrapping your legs around his waist, settling atop his hips.

You were face-to-face now, chest-to-chest, and his hands came to rest on your waist. His breath was warm, eyes oozing with intention as your hand lazily draped across his shoulder, fingers finding their way to his hair.

“I don’t believe you,” you muttered.

“I’ll make you,” he persuaded, hand sliding up to rest on your lower back.

You were on the brink of total surrender, leaning closer until your noses were brushing, his other hand leaving your waist to cup your jaw, securing around your throat.

“Prove it,” you gave in.

Harry felt his stomach flip, holding back the urge to shove his tongue down your throat. Instead, he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, then another to the corner of your mouth. He took his time, enjoying the way his lips sparked against your soft skin.

And then he kissed you- just barely. So lightly you barely felt it.

He pulled back for a moment, bringing his other hand up to hold your face in place. Planting a soft kiss, and another, and another, and then he finally kissed you- properly.

You were eager to reciprocate, tugging him as close as possible, kissing him with such fervour it could have convinced Harry that this was something you had spent twenty years anticipating.

Your lips detached, and Harry was quick to start scattering sloppy smooches up-and-down your neck. Nibbling and sucking now-and-then, dragging you further into his hold.

It wasn’t until you purposely pressed yourself down against his lap - desperate to ease some of this friction – when you suddenly came to your senses. Before he could kiss you once more, you went still, eyes opening to look at him in shock.

Harry stopped, eyeing you cautiously as you unravelled yourself, leaning back bashfully.

“We should get back to the party,” you suggested, scared to speak above a whisper.

Harry played it cool, nodding along as you climbed out of his lap, following suit until you were now both standing face-to-face.

Neither made any attempts to move, you watched him, shamelessly. Trying to figure out your next move, how to act, how to respond.

Suddenly Harry’s eyes lit up, surprisingly sending a wave of relief rushing through you.

“I got you something, for your birthday obviously.” He didn’t wait for your reaction, walking over to his bed before crouching down to reach for something hidden beneath.

You were eyeing him curiously as he started to reveal this surprise. The moment you caught a glance of what it was- that familiar blend of whites and purples, the abstract scatter of shapes and lines, the same feeling you felt the first time you saw the painting.

Your heart caused your ears to ring, a swell of emotions- aghast, amazed, admiration- and you were quick to realise that those feelings were for Harry.

He had barely finished revealing the artwork, not even fully standing straight as you came bounding over, causing him to drop what he was doing, only moments before you were grabbing his cheek, tugging him to meet your lips as you pressed against him with a blend of aggression and adamance.

He had no time to react, hands instinctively wrapping you up, pulling you into him, grabbing at whatever you would let him.

In a haze of needy kisses, he gently pushed you back until your bumped right into his dressing table.

You were tugging at his hair, making sure he stayed close. With your help, he used one arm to wrap around the back of your thighs, lifting you effortlessly until you were sat atop the table.

Your legs were wrapped around his waist in an instant, linking your ankles, tugging him closer. Harry was holding back a long overdue moan, hands on your jaw. You pulled back for a breath, taking in him- lusty, dishevelled, eager.

He reached up and gently removed your birthday crown, tossing it over his shoulder, and then his hands dropped to your shoulders, leaning down to press kisses to your collarbone, the nape of your neck, one final one – dragged out – beneath your ear.

Harry softly worked at the bows, pulling them loose, watching them fall, your chest on proper display now. Your hands were roaming his torso, back, his hair and finally, his jaw- leaning back in, tugging at his bottom lip with your teeth. His mouth parting slightly, and you stole the change to slip your tongue in- giving Harry a pleasant surprise.

You worked to unbutton his shirt, hastily shrugging it off of his shoulders, forcing him to help you remove it completely. Your hands were roaming his torse, lips following suit. Harry couldn’t help the soft sighs he let slip, trying to keep his hands on any part of your skin.

The impatience was growing – neither of you wanted to address it. But after the third time you pressed yourself against his crotch, Harry decided he needed to take matters into his own hands.

He stepped back, softly chuckling at the bratty whine you sent his way. Harry’s hands pressed firmly into your hips; his thumb drawing circles up your thighs. He let a few fingers slip beneath the fabric of your dress, pushing it up to reveal your deep red, lacy undies.

Harry tutted, trailing his fingers closer and closer,

“I am very, very fond of these.”

He was inches away from getting exactly where he wanted, patiently dragging out each action. He knew you were certain- your incapability of letting him out of your grasp was proof.

Your hands were still all over him, desperately grasping at any free skin,

“Shut it.”

“Yeah?” he snickered,

“Yeah,” you huffed,

“What if-”

“Harry. I said shut it and put your mouth to good use.”

He blinked, blinked once more, and nodded profusely,

“Yes ma’am.”

---

Get ready for part twoooo! - Emmy xox.

Harry's House

Summary: YN and Harry have been together since they were fifteen, childhood sweethearts. Follow their journey through fame, touring and an unexpected surprise, and everything in between.

2012:

Two Pink Lines

Our Baby

Baby Styles

A Day With The Styles Family

2015:

Baby Styles #2