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I ADORE Eden and Harry but I also really really really love your writing so if possible could you do a normal piece (not Eden and Harry I'm sorry I love them but it wouldn't work for this request if you're willing to write it but ofc you don't have to!) where Harry is an asshole to 'y/n' even though she's super sweet to him pleaseeeee? I feel like you'd write angst really well! Only if you have time though!! Thank you, hope you're well :) x

Thank you for all the kind words!  I’m not as familiar with angst…am I writing it without knowing it? I just wouldn’t be able to find it exactly in something I’m reading or writing. But I tried my best with this one, hopefully you deem it worthy of what you had in mind! I think I like it so hopefully that means something! I hope you’re doing well also! 😘

reminder since things have changed since this request was made: [requests are closed until October.] 

[04] “He’s not usually like this, you’ve just come on a bit of a rough day…rough week…weeks.”

She isn’t bothered. Isn’t rattled, taken back or discouraged by it at all.

She knows he’s anxious, stressed and all the other words that fall under the same umbrella.

It isn’t an excuse for him to act like this. It’s a factor, but it isn’t an excuse. She knows that, she thinks she knows that. Maybe, she wants to know that.

He’s waiting for a call he isn’t even sure he’ll get. The one about the role he’s been praying for since leaving the place he auditioned for it.

So, she gets it. She does. She gets it. It just doesn’t make things simpler, or easier to handle. But she understands it…on most days.

But she still tries, for whatever it’s worth, on the off chance that today or maybe even tomorrow will be a better day. So she spends her Saturday outings (the ones they used to take together) alone. Which she’s willing to do, with a hope that in a few Saturdays from now he’ll join her.

“Found these monogrammed mugs for us whilst I was out. Looking at them now they’re a bit silly aren’t they…” She still smiles looking at them as he finishes his late breakfast. “S’just one of those things right, you see the first letter of your name and you just have to have it.” She sets them down in the sink to wash them, always have to wash the things you buy before using them. “We’ve got too many fancy mugs anyway, these are more us right? Less uptight maybe?”

He doesn’t answer, maybe he hums in response but that might as well have been silence.

→ → →

Harry still hasn’t used his monogrammed mug. That’s fine, she isn’t bothering herself with that for too long. Maybe he isn’t in the mood for a hot drink or maybe he’s just too busy for one.

But it’s not that he hasn’t used it for his morning brew, nighttime tea or any of the aforementioned. He’s thrown his out. Properly, threw it out. In the bin. The monogrammed mug is in the bin.

She wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t peeled that clementine and looked for where to throw out the peels. But she did. At first she thought maybe because it had a crack in it. (But she could have just returned it if he had seen one.) Or maybe it wasn’t microwave safe, but what mug isn’t? And she checked just to be sure before she bought it.  

But it’s in the bin now.

For no good reason.

And she pulls it out just as he comes down the stairs for someone at the door.

“You don’t like it? Didn’t have throw it out…” she shrugs grabbing for an apple. “There are nicer ones on Etsy.”  

“We’ve got plenty. We don’t need anymore bloody mugs.”

They’ve got twelve, maybe two more than that. But that isn’t plenty. That’s six or seven between the both of them. And she has tea twice a day and so does he. So she knows it isn’t about the excess or lack of mugs that’s ticking him off.

“Well good morning to you too,” she mutters before biting into her apple.

→ → →

The next day is something else. Like it always is. It’s always something else.

Her friend dropped her cat off with them. With her. (She isn’t sure if Harry will be around much.) But she thinks she’s a suitable cat sitter all on her own. She prefers dogs but she likes the way cats know what they want, and what they don’t want. And maybe this could be a chance to show him that they really should get a friend.

What’s unsettling, perhaps disappointing (the common theme for the last few weeks) is that Harry doesn’t even notice. Let alone ask why there’s a cat in the middle of his living room. Doesn’t ask if she’s rescued it from a nearby tree or rescued it from a shelter.

So she fills in his blanks, the ones he’s not looking for.

“Fleur’s, she’s going on holiday, Portugal I think so I told her we’d watch her cat. I can do it, you’re busy I know.” She smiles up at him. “But you like cats, thought it’d be good for you, for a few days—”

“Keep him, don’t keep him…” he slips on his coat as he shows her just how much he couldn’t  care less. “Your friend isn’t she?” He glances at his phone.

“He’s soft,” she grins. “Good too, keeps to himself for the most part. I know they all do but—”

She can’t complete her argument about how even though most cats keep to themselves he’s extra good. And she wants to add how most of them are independent and love you just enough for you not to get too spoiled. But he’s taking a phone call she knows is important before she can say any of that.  

“Haven’t got many toys for you to play with,” she pets the small thing as she wonders how small paws like those get him around. “Or do you just make everything into a toy of yours?”

“Got to step out for a bit.” He looks back down at his phone.

“It’s raining,” she looks to the window at her right. “You’ve got an umbrella?”

And he’s out the door before he can give her answer that he wouldn’t have given anyway. She’s surprised he’s even told her that he’s off somewhere. She can’t wish him a good day because the door shuts without a word.

“He’s not usually like this, you’ve just come on a bit of a rough day…rough week…weeks.” She assures the cat on its back. “How’s he usually?” She asks, because the cat is asking. “Not like this, but it’s a been a while since then…think I forgot a bit how he’s usually. Maybe this is the new usually…”

She doesn’t want it to be, needs it not to be but there just isn’t a flicker of light at the end of this tunnel. And she can’t remember a time where there was.

He isn’t usually like this, that’s the thing. He’s never like this. She doesn’t know this, she didn’t know this before it happened. And that’s pretty hard if she says so herself. To deal with something she never expected. She knows that’s usually how it goes but still. He’s still her Harry that isn’t like this.

“Good thing you’re just visiting. Not that I don’t like you, I do, but you wouldn’t have much fun here now. Maybe once he’s got that role he’s chasing so bad he’ll be back. Then you and I can throw a party for him. And you’ll see how he usually is.”

The cat understands.

→ → →

That evening it’s something else. Like it always is.

“We can go out, eat at that place your mum said was really nice,” she turns her head to him in the kitchen from the couch she’s sat on. “Or the one raved about in the paper yesterday.”

“Not tonight.”

“I know you’re still waiting for that call, you’ll get it though. M’not just saying that either.” She sets her bookmark down in between the pages of her book. “You know I don’t go around saying things I don’t mean.”

No answer.

“Think the cat agrees as well. And he doesn’t even know you that well yet.”

No answer.

“Oh, your dad called, said he wanted to take us to dinner. Well actually, he wanted us to come over. Said he has a new recipe he wants to test out. Wants us to be lab rats for a night.”

“When’s that?”

“He said if tomorrow works—”

“Did you tell him we were coming?”

“No, not ye—

“Good.” He kicks off his boots. “Coz we’re not.”

“But—”

“Need to have a shower.”

→ → →

The next day is something else, brings something else.

It’s that food fair at Regent’s Park she wants to go to.

It’s that fair at Regent’s Park that she knows she’ll have to beg for him to come to…it’s that one she knows he won’t come to.

It’s not like she’s gonna ask him to ride the carousel they have there. (Even though it’s a nice one.) So she doesn’t see why he could say no. It’s a food fair.

And she’s willing to bring out all the logistics she’s already thought about. They wouldn’t even have to drive, the tube will do just fine. Would bring them right to it, that way he doesn’t have to be fussed with parking when he really doesn’t want to be fussed with anything.

But before she could, he seemed too annoyed with the fact that she hadn’t gotten the right type of orange juice. (They all taste like oranges don’t they?)

She’s used to it, him getting mad at her for the smallest things that he’s got no grounds for.

So she doesn’t ask about the food fair at Regent’s park.

She figured going with the cat would be more of the same thing either way.

So she went with Harry’s PA. She’s the one who told her about it. Said it’d be something fun for him to do. Get out of the house for a bit, even though he’s worried about leaving because there might not be cell service wherever he might be going. (There’s cell service at Regent’s park. She checked. Double checked. Was about to triple check…)

The food fair was what it was. A food fair. And there were too many kids on that one carousel she liked and she wasn’t in the mood for feeling silly. Not when Harry’s not there to be silly with her either. Because she’s old and some small kid with a runny nose might tell her she’d break it.

If Harry were there he’d know what to say to that supposed kid with a runny nose. That maybe if she’d break it, he’d shatter it. He wouldn’t say that though, he’d probably tell the kid he was going to build her one. One much bigger and better than this small thing.

So she passes it by it as Harry’s assistant asks the same questions about him like she always does.

She’s sick of answering to other people about him too. Because she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know why he’s got to act like this. She knows why, but she doesn’t know why he’s choosing to let it affect him this way.

Because when she gets this way, when she’s anxious…waiting for something. She’s got to do something else. Take a bath, a few. Go to a food fair. Go to that restaurant raved about in the paper.

And there’s only so many excuses she can come up with. Harry can’t have the flu for two weeks, or hay fever on a Monday and a stomach bug on a Wednesday.

They all start thinking it’s got something to do with her at some point. She thought so too at some point, she still lets that sink in sometimes. That he’s acting this way because things aren’t good between them anymore. That maybe he’s had it.

But she assures them (while she isn’t assured at all) that he’s just feeling overwhelmed and anxious. Which sounds a lot better. And a lot blander, and a lot more of what she’d like it to be instead.

When she gets back, he’s cranky again. He’s cranky and wondering why his personal assistant isn’t answering her phone. He’s supposed to read through the scripts for the other projects he’s been sent. But how can he do that if he hasn’t even seen them yet? And he’s just as cranky to his girlfriend because wasn’t she just with her?

“She did call you, I was there…” she prepares herself for his usual behavior. “You weren’t answering her so she dropped them off with me. Just told me not to peak or anything since they’re classified and for your eyes only.” She sets them down on the kitchen island.

“She can’t even do her lazy job,” he stacks them up irritably.

“She—” she begins but lets it evaporate into the tense air. Because what difference is that sentence gonna make?

→ → →

“Harry, Harry!” She climbs onto their big bed where he sits reading the stack of pages delivered to him. “They’ve put them back on the menu! The samosas we really like! They’re back!”

He likes them just as much as she does so he’s got to have some type of a reaction.

But he doesn’t have one.

“Can we go? Won’t take long, we can take them to go since you’ve got all this to read.”

“Not tonight.”

“What about this weekend, you pick a time. I’ll follow.” She fixes some loose strands of his hair that probably are bothering him but he’s too invested to worry about anything else.

“M’busy,” he mumbles with a pen in between his lips and more importantly he says her name right after. And he hardly ever does that, only when he’s not being him.  

“Maybe next week.” She scoots off the mattress, convincing herself that next week will be better.   He doesn’t answer her.  

Later when she’s in the bath, trying to wash or scrub away the day she tries to think of new ways. New ways to get him back to what he was. She knows that this has to be one of those ‘wait it out’ type of things. But she doesn’t know if she’s willing to stand by that for much longer.

She calls, she calls his PA nearly every day. Needing to know when Harry will expect the call he’s been waiting for. And she doesn’t know either.

So it really is about waiting it out. Waiting it out until the water runs cold.

She’s busy playing with bubbles and thinking of new things to get him back to her when he walks in.

A bath, she’s never thought of that. A bath cures everything. Washes, kneads and melts away all the worries. They’ve got a nice one too, spacious and pearly white.

“Wanna come in? The water’s still warm.”

No answer.

She sighs loudly through her lips before submerging herself fully in the water as he turns the shower on. She likes it here, under. But she’s got to come back up at some point, when her lungs nearly give out.

She’s undecided. And that’s not a fun place for her to be either. She can’t decide if she’s hurt or angry or understanding. She doesn’t know if she’s managing understanding well anymore either. Because hurt is seeping in and it’s dragging anger along for the ride.

When she’s out of the bath, soft and still warm she heads downstairs for one last bedtime snack. The one she isn’t supposed to have. Because she’s trying to kick the habit of something sweet before bed. But she’ll start that tomorrow.

“Why is my mum calling about lunch this Wednesday?” Harry asks coming down the stairs as she sits on the couch with her oreos.

“I called her, well I called her back, she’s been ringing you about having lunch—”

“Christ—why’ve you got to meddle into every little thing!”

“I didn’t—”

She chooses not to complete her sentence because she knows it won’t do anything. He won’t understand anything from it. The completley innocent motive behind it. “Didn’t mean to, sorry Harry.” She gets up from no longer comfortable spot on the couch.

She wants to say that she didn’t, she isn’t meddling. His mum just hasn’t seen him in nearly two weeks, and hasn’t heard from him in about the same time.

He keep his line open, barely answers any other calls just in case the call he’s waiting for is comprised because of a food order he wants to make over the phone. So Anne called her to see why that is and frankly, she didn’t know what to answer. She can only us the words stressed and busy so many times.

She didn’t mean to let his mum know he was fine and that her usual visit is still a go. She probably should have checked his schedule first but he didn’t think he’d have anything scheduled for that same time.

It rushes in at right about now, at how all of these last few weeks have made her feel. They made her feel stupid, genuinely stupid. She feels stupid for keeping at this. For taking it, for sitting there and taking it. Blow after blow.

She hasn’t been able to lay a finger on what is that she’s feeling while he goes through his storm of feelings. But she thinks she’s found it. She feels dumb.

And once she’s found it, after digging deep she decides she doesn’t want to feel dumb anymore.

There are plenty of rooms, too many for just the two of them. So she chooses, not at all like goldilocks would because she’s much too tired but she happens upon one. She doesn’t care if he notices or he doesn’t. She just needs to not feel like she’s a speck of sand or gum stuck on his shoe. One minuscule and the other a bother. And she feels like both with him.

The cat’s followed her and managed to make it onto the guest bed. She pets their cat for a week slowly. Keeps doing so as she settles into the unfamiliar bed. Keeps doing so until the door opens.

“Was looking for you, what are you doing in here?” He asks even though he understands when he sees her in bed.

“Think you need your space for a bit,” she adjusts her pillow, nearly punches it to get it just right. And Harry wonders if she wants to do the same to him. Just maybe. “In addition to the rest of the space you’ve been keeping.”

“Stop,” he sighs. “Stop being silly, get up love.”

“Don’t want to.” She answers honestly. “S’not like it’s any different than how it’s been.”

“How’s it been?”

“Where you’re at the other end of the bed avoiding me like I’ve got the plague or something you could catch. Bunch of silence too. And maybe I need some of that space and silence now.”

“And what would you need space and silence from?”

“You.” She turns the beside lamp off.

“Me?” He asks turning it back on.

“You.” She turns it back off.

“Why me?” He turns it back on.

“Being around you makes me feel like I might as well be here to pull your teeth.”

“Where’d you get that—”

“You do this, you always do this!” She doesn’t care if he won’t believe her. It’s the truth. She’s been around to know for sure. “Stop unleashing all of your stress on me, I’m here for you! I’m on your side! Always been on your side!”

It’s not that he’s surprised she’s yelling, he knows she’s got a yell or two in her. He’s taken back that it’s him, just him that’s making her yell. She’s not yelling to let off steam about something her mum said to her, something that happened at work, or something she saw. It’s just because of him.

“You don’t see me angry with you about orange juice when I’ve got back to back exams in a week!” She yells and if she could yell louder she would. It’s her turn now. “You know what I do instead? I go with you to whatever event it is you need to show your face at! Even if it’s the day before an exam!” She’s done that, and she’ll keep doing that for him. “You know why! Because my stress hasn’t got anything to do with you! I know how to keep them separate! And if I feel like m’about to unleash it all on you just because you happen to be the one in the room in that moment, I tell you! That I need a minute because I don’t want to blow up on you!”

“I—”

“M’not done!” She yells. “I know exams about child behavior aren’t ever going to be some fancy role in a film but it’s just as important to me! Just as stressful for me! And I don’t shut you out or ignore you as I wait for results!”

She still isn’t done.

“Had a week off right, a a week ago, for Easter. And you spoke a handful of words to me the entire time. For someone who’s always complaining about not seeing me, not being able to take me on holiday…interesting choice of action.”

She still isn’t done, just a bit left.

“M’on your team. Always have been, and you’ve always been on mine. So start acting like it.”

She catches her breath. “M’done now.”

“So what do you want now? What have I got to—”

“I want to turn this light off without you turning it back on. And I want to sleep in here with the cat you haven’t even acknowledged.”

“Gonna sleep alone, in here all night?”

“M’here aren’t I?”

“When m’I gonna fix this then?” He asks worriedly. Because even though he doesn’t exactly how to just yet (he’s dug himself that deep) he still needs to.

“Tomorrow.”

So he’s going to let her sleep here. Even if he absolutely dreads sleeping alone. Might as well not sleep at all. But he’s going to let her. Because from all that she’s been revealing to him, she deserves this all. Some space for herself and for him to feel how that’s like.

He turns the light off so she can get to it.

“Sleep well love,” he kisses her shoulder because he isn’t sure she’ll let him that much. And he does pet the cat, even if it hates him just as much he thinks his girl does. He is soft. “Gonna watch her for me right?” He whispers.

→ → →

It takes Harry a few days to fix it all. With a tool box of things he can think of.

It started with the samosas they like and ended with the carousel at Regent’s Park. (The food fair won’t be back till August.) But he still left his phone at the house and she had to double check and make sure he knew he was doing so.

And somewhere in between it was the mugs as well.

“Got the mugs, the nicer ones from Etsy.” He tells her when she walks into the kitchen.

“We don’t have too many?” She asks.

“Threw some of the boring ones out to make room.” He shrugs taking the orange juice he didn’t want three days ago from the fridge. And he pours some into the mug she bought him as he holds the cat in the other. It tastes just like oranges, and it tastes better than the kind he’s used to. It’s because of the mug and he knows so.

And the cat understands.

For the anon who wanted one in which Harry is obsessed with Y/N’s chubby cheeks!

Harry couldn’t stop touching Y/N’s face.

He loved running his fingers along her jaw, tracing it along it before pinching her cheek, squeezing the puffiness of it between his thumb and index. He loves that she had big cheeks (or chubby as she called them) and not slender, caved-in ones that girls on magazines had. Loves that her jawline had a bit of plushiness to it, cupping her cheeks with both hands and squishing them together so that she looked like a fish.

“Harry, m’tryna eat.”, she muffles through a mouthful of cereal. This was a normal morning for them; her sitting at the kitchen island (she was very happy she could afford an apartment with an island in the kitchen, she thinks they are very useful and just tie the room together) as Harry stood next to her, playing with her cheeks as she ate. He thought they were cute all the time but especially when she was eating. They looked extra puffy around mouthfuls of food, the chewing motion exciting him immensely.

“I’m not stopping you.” He massages his palms over her cheeks, rubbing in circles as he flattens out his hands. A bit of milk sputters out of her mouth, dribbling down her chin.

“I’m not stopping you”, she mimics him, although smiling as it drips down onto her breasts, the valley of them showing between her robe since it wasn’t closed all the way. She reaches for the tissue roll, about to rip one off as Harry reaches around the counter.

“I’ll get it.” He dips his head, licking right between her breasts and cleaning her up of the spilt milk. Y/N yelps, instinctively pushing her breasts together as she arches her back, squeezing his face between her tits and making him laugh. “I quite like it in here.”, his voice muffled.

Y/N giggles, pulling him by his hair so his face was level with hers again so she can kiss him. Gentle smacks are heard between little breaks in the kiss, her lips sticky from the milk. Harry can’t help himself, kissing the corners of her mouth before moving to her cheek, softly biting it and turning his head back and forth as if he were a dog with a chew-toy.

“Okay, okay, enough of that.” She stifles a laugh as Harry becomes pouty after removing his mouth from her, sitting in the seat next to her and slouching dramatically. “Budge up, eat some breakfast.”

Grabbing her cheek, he pinches it between his fingers. “I’d rather eat something else.”

Y/N flushes.

the fall (part one)

summary: all y/n wants is to be his and all harry wants is to keep her at arm’s length

10k words or so!

warnings: ANGST !!! there’s a slight age gap (ten years). Arguing, a tiny bit of smut, and more arguing. So if you’re not in the mood for this train wreck, I understand completely, but enjoy if you are!!!

“Aren’t you going to eat something?” 

“I think I’d rather die, actually.” Shooting him a sarcastic smile, (Y/N) set her chin back in her hand, waiting for dinner to be over with. 

“What a waste of a night then.” He tossed his napkin on the table, looking pissed off like she knew he was. It had been simmering all night and her not eating was the icing on the cake. 

“That’s your fault. I told you I didn’t want to come.” 

The past week had been awful. After what she found out just the other night, she didn’t want to be anywhere near him. But somehow, he always managed to get her to do what he wanted. And now he’s mad that she’s mad at him. He wants her to let it go but how could she? (Y/N) is not sure she can look past this even if she does care about him. 

Harry raised his hand for the check and set his eyes back on her. She looked just past him, refusing to meet his eye. He didn’t deserve an ounce of her attention, but for some reason, she’s still here. 

“Fucking ungrateful is what you are, (Y/N),” He spat out, not loud enough to catch the attention of any nearby tables, but enough for her to hear him clearly. “I bring you here, the most expensive restaurant in LA, and you can’t be bothered to even let me talk.” 

“I think we both said all we needed to say the other night,” This time, she looked him right in the eye. “I told you I was done with this game.”  

(Y/N) had thought about leaving several times throughout their silent dinner but she didn’t feel like putting in the effort to get herself a ride home. It’s a busy Friday night. Even an Uber would probably take ages. So, she was going to put up with him until he dropped her off. Just for the ride. 

“Yeah. I’ve heard that before.” He scoffed a laugh, bringing his glass to his mouth to finish off his drink. She glared at him because he was right. She’d told him ten times over that she wanted nothing to do with him and for some reason, she always came running back, almost feeling bad for being so cruel to him. But really, he was the one being cruel. 

“Just take me home already.” 

“Don’t fucking worry. As soon as possible.” 

The ride to her apartment was silent. She tried to keep remembering how much of a dick he was to help uphold her resolve. He’s a piece of shit who doesn’t deserve any of her time or attention. But he always gets it. And she tried to remember how angry and betrayed she felt three days ago when she found a woman sneaking out of his apartment. 

Things had been going well. She thought. And she’d come to his penthouse because he invited her, but he didn’t seem to remember that he did. Obviously. The doorman always let her up because she was on the very small list of people that Harry allowed to come up and right as she made it to his door, a woman, half dressed, was apologizing as she slipped past her to get to the elevator. And Harry was right behind her, only in a pair of briefs. 

He insisted that she was only there for a blowjob. That was it. Like it made a difference. But (Y/N) truly had no words for him. He thought he was allowed that because they weren’t exclusive. They could both see who they wanted because there were no strings. That was laughable because whenever (Y/N) tried to plan a date with someone else just out of spite, he was quick to steal her attention away from that and have her back in his bed and back under his spell.

Apparently, this dinner was supposed to make up for her storming out the other night refusing to hear what he had to say. There was nothing he could say. She was hurt and even though she wasn’t supposed to be, she was. And he knew that, he just didn’t care and always tried to make everything better with a fancy dinner or some other shallow, thoughtless gift. And (Y/N) normally wouldn’t let that slide. If anyone else tried to buy her affection with gifts, she’d never talk to them again. There’s just something about Harry. 

He parked, shutting off the engine, and turned to look at her. She didn’t pay him any mind, she already had a hand pushing the door open. 

“(Y/N), wait,” He rushed to say and she almost thought about slamming the door and walking away forever. “I didn’t mean for the other night to happen.” 

“Yeah. I know. You were hoping your little girlfriend would be gone before I got there.” She turned once again, just about to step out of the car, but he grasped her upper arm, stopping her movements. 

“We have an agreement.” 

“We do. And last time I checked, I can end it anytime I want.” She tried to pull her arm from his hand but his grip got tighter. 

“You don’t want to do that though. We’re good, aren’t we?” 

“We were. But I can’t do this for the rest of my life.” 

“Didn’t say you had to,” (Y/N) can swear that he just rolled his eyes but it’s a little too dark in the car right now. “I need you right now though. And I know you need me too.” 

Finally, she turned to meet his eyes. He had that pitiful little look he always gets when she’s on the cusp of telling him it’s over. His hand smoothed up her arm and around to the back of her neck, pulling her closer to him. For some reason, (Y/N) is weak when it comes to him. Even if he was horrible to her. She always bends to his will. 

Maybe one day she’ll be able to resist him. But right now is not the time. 

She leaned across the center console until her lips were pressed to his and she melted right into him. The kiss was slow as their mouths moved together in perfect sync. (Y/N) has never kissed someone like she kisses Harry. There’s always so much desire behind it and it always makes her skin hot. 

“Come up.” She said against his mouth. It was exactly what he wanted, he just needed her to initiate it. 

In record time, and not even out of her dress, Harry has her over the counter top, fucking her so hard and so well that she can’t see straight anymore. He’s got a handful of her hair while he mutters filthy things in her ear. Things along the lines of you can’t leave me, you need this and no one else can give you this like I can. Which is true. In her experience so far anyway. 

(Y/N) almost wished Harry didn’t know how to make her cum so fast. Then maybe it might be easier to ignore him and never see him again. But he’s so giving in that way. And that’s what has her in trouble. Because he knew all her favorite spots and how to use them to his advantage. She also wished she didn’t allow him to know her body so well, but it’s too late now. 

She cums, blinking stars out of her eyes. It’s the second time since he got her inside and while she knows he’ll want at least one more from her, she’s not sure she can. He pulled out once her walls stopped fluttering around him and grabbed her by the shoulders to spin her around. 

“Suck me,” 

(Y/N) should’ve taken a second to think about it. Maybe just to register what he was actually asking but she was already on her knees and stuffing him into her mouth before either of them could blink. It was one of her favorite things to do and he knew that very well and oftentimes took advantage of that too. That’s why he’d called her over the other day. Because he was hard and lonely. He wouldn’t admit the latter but she knew it was true. 

Apparently, she took too long to get there because he already had another girl filling her place. And while it stung, she knew that she was the best he ever had, he just had a hard time coming to terms with it. 

“Fuck, you’re so much better than she was.” 

It always fucks with her when he feels the need to bring up how someone else has done it when he has his dick in her mouth but she lets it go. Because if she ever brought it up, he’d just tell her to get over herself. If anything, his commentary is unnecessary when she does this. She’d rather him just moan and groan instead of speaking. 

“Then why’d you call her over if I do it better?” She pulled off of him to say, keeping a tight hand around his shaft. He’s leaning his hands against the counter top and trying to catch his breath. And she takes great pride in that. “I always take care of you, Harry. You don’t have to do that.” 

He watched as she licked over the tip of him and then his eyes screwed shut. 

“You do, I know. Won’t do it again.” 

She’s heard that more times than she can count but she doesn’t call him out. She just goes back to sucking him into her mouth. He came with his hands in her hair, shoving her mouth down on him as far as she could take it. 

When he finally pulled out, a hazy look in his eye, he fixed his belt back around his waist and waved her over to the couch. She was sensitive, of course, but she knew what he wanted to do and had no problem lying underneath him as he traced his tongue through her folds over and over again until she was cumming for the third time. 

(Y/N) convinced him to lay in her bed for a little bit. At least until she falls asleep. She’s cuddled into him with her cheek resting against his bicep as she stares tiredly at the ceiling. Harry isn’t one for having little moments like this so she knows he’s only doing it because he’s trying to make up for the other day. He did undress to his underwear like he had every intention of staying the night but she knows better. It’s fine. As long as he’s here now, she won’t complain. 

“Please just wait for me next time.” She tried to sound like she’s not pleading with him even though she is. He claims to be using condoms with anyone else he’s with but she just wants to be safe and she hopes he remembers that. 

“I will.” 

She turned to look up at him. He’s staring blankly at the ceiling as well. 

“I mean it,” She jabbed her finger into his side. “I know we have an agreement or whatever but for my peace of mind could you maybe…not be with other people for a little bit?” It was a big ask. Especially with Harry’s lifestyle and she knew he might not take kindly to her suggestion. 

“I’m not going to be tied down to you like I’m your boyfriend or something,” He moved out from under her head and turned to look at her. “I’ll just…be more mindful, I guess.” 

That answer satisfied her as she nuzzled her cheek back against his arm and shut her eyes. Maybe someday he’ll feel differently.  

(Y/N) wakes up alone which is not unusual. He got his fix and was gone as soon as she went to sleep.  

Somehow, that was good enough for (Y/N). Even though she knows she’s worth more than that. For now, she leaves it be. 

****

“We should go out tonight.” 

(Y/N) is laid across Harry’s couch as he does something work-related on his laptop. He’s next to her, typing away and not listening to a word she says as she rambled on about the tv show playing. 

He invited her over for a fuck but that quickly got sidetracked when he received a phone call and had to take care of something last minute. Since then, they’ve just been on the couch, lounging on a Friday night with nothing to do. 

“Mhm.” 

She knows he didn’t hear her because that’s probably the last thing he wants to do. It’s worth a shot though. 

“Really?” Sitting up to look at him in surprise, she was almost hopeful that he really meant it. 

“I have to get this done, (Y/N).” 

“When will you be done?” She peeked over his shoulder at the spreadsheet on the screen. She didn’t understand anything about it but it did give her a chance to rest her chin on his shoulder. 

“Not sure.” He was locked back into his computer, barely paying attention, once again, to what she was saying. 

“If you’re going to be working all night, maybe I’ll go out with Maria.” Really, she wanted to see what his thoughts on it would be. If he’d rather her stay here or if he’d rather take her out himself. 

“If you want.” 

“You’d just let me go?” She pouted at the side of his face. He sighed, glancing at her. 

“I want you to do what you want to do. If you’re bored, call Maria.” 

“Alright. I’ll call you later.” 

Rushing to grab her things, she left without so much as another word from him and caught a cab to get back to her apartment.

Texting Maria on the way, she was going to meet her at her apartment after she was done getting ready and they’d leave together to find a club to go to. 

She was in the middle of fixing the straps of her shoes when Maria came barging in and raiding her closet in search of a pair of heels that she just knew (Y/N) had. 

It wasn’t long before they were walking the street to get to one of their regular clubs. It was nice and they didn’t just let anyone come in. Not that it was exclusive but you definitely had to have a certain look to get in and both (Y/N) and Maria were easily let into the club after waiting in a short line. 

The bar was their first stop and then dancing. Whenever (Y/N) goes out without Harry, she likes to play a little game with him. She doesn’t have him added on any of her social media accounts, but somehow he’s always aware of what she was doing when she was away from him. So, while apart, she tries to post subtly but very intentionally. Like he’s the only one seeing her Instagram stories. 

The first post of the night is one of (Y/N) and Maria holding their drinks into the camera. And that will be the first of many, just to get his attention. Because she knows that he keeps tabs on her even though he says he doesn’t give a fuck. That’s why she has to make these stories count.

And Maria was in the know so she made sure to post on her stories as well. Because even there, she knew Harry would see it. She’s not sure how or what account he uses but he still finds out. 

They danced for a while, laughing at each other and singing along to the music, until they got thirsty and decided to get another drink. She checked who viewed her story and none of the accounts stood out so far. Not that she would ever know it’s him because she’s tried to find him and can’t. 

Maria got the perfect shot. She had been taking a selfie just as some guy sidled up beside (Y/N) at the bar. He was harmless, just asking what drink she’d recommend. He was young and it was probably his first time in the club, so she was picking something out on the menu for him. He was sweet and thanked her before going back to his table after getting his drink. And very discreetly, you can see (Y/N)’s manicured hand holding the tiny bar menu and a larger hand, that obviously belongs to a man, is grasping the other side of it. She was just looking at the menu with him and they both happened to be holding it together at the exact right time. It was perfect. Just subtle enough to look like it wasn’t done on purpose. 

(Y/N) would give it twenty minutes. Twenty minutes for him to see the story and get pissed and start blowing up her phone. It was her favorite part. Making him so jealous that he wouldn’t even admit it. All he’d do is make it seem like he’s mad because she’s drinking too much. She’s only had two drinks, so she’s still capable of making clear decisions, but he’s going to act like she’s gone way over the limit. But really, he’s just jealous and unwilling to tell her that. 

They went back to dance. And it didn’t take long for her phone that she had stashed away in the top of her dress to start buzzing. She grinned at Maria and quickly pulled out her phone so they could read over what he said. 

Where did you end up going? 

They laughed and she was in the middle of thinking what to say in response when another message came through. 

Need a ride home?

“He’s so obsessed with you.” Maria nudged her. She wanted to believe her but she’s not quite sure. He’s obsessed in all the wrong ways. 

What club?

(Y/N). 

Her phone started ringing. Her wide eyes met Maria’s and she panicked. Does she answer or just leave him hanging? He’s done it to her more times than she can count. She huffed before pressing her phone to her ear.  

“Hello?” She had to shout over the music and the rowdy people next to her, so she started making her way toward the bar to get away from the dance floor. 

“(Y/N). Where the fuck are you?” 

“Out like I told you I’d be.” 

“With who?” 

She paused, thinking for a moment. He’s acting like a boyfriend. A jealous boyfriend. 

“Does it…matter?” She wanted to remain nonchalant. Like Maria didn’t put that picture on her story for this exact reason. 

“Just answer the question, (Y/N).” 

“Maria.” 

“Who else?” 

“No one.” 

“Don’t fucking lie to me.” 

(Y/N) really couldn’t keep a straight face. This just got so interesting and she’s really going to play it up and push him to his limit. All he does is toy with her emotions and it’s time he gets a taste of his own medicine. 

“I’m not lying. What the fuck are you talking about?” Leaving Maria near the bar, she went back toward the bathrooms so she could hear more clearly. The music was still loud but she had a little better of a time hearing him curse and mutter to himself. 

“Are you doing this on purpose?” Yes. 

“Harry. Seriously. What are you talking about?” 

“You’re fucking wasted out of your mind, aren’t you?” Here we go. “What club are you at?” 

“I don’t have time for this. You’re ruining my night, Harry. We can talk later.” 

“No, no, no. What club, (Y/N)? I’m not playing with you right now.” 

“I have to go. I’ll call you tomorrow or something maybe.” 

“This is your last chance, (Y/N), I mean it—”

She ended the call. Just like that. If he wants her that bad, he can come and get her. 

(Y/N) met back with Maria and gave her a quick rundown of his demanding questions. She rolled her eyes. He had some nerve asking all of that when he wouldn’t even let her hold his hand in public. 

They get lost in the crowd and the music again and maybe thirty minutes pass before Maria stopped dancing and clutched onto her shoulder. 

“He’s here!” She shouted over the music. 

“What?” When Maria pointed over her shoulder, she turned to see Harry scanning the dance floor while standing next to the bar. He’s dressed in a button down and slacks, the same thing he was wearing back at the penthouse. 

“Uh oh.” She muttered just as his eyes met hers through the crowd. She wanted to take off running just because of the look on his face. He’s pissed in a way she’s never seen before. But it excites her some. He must give a shit a little bit. He has to. 

In three long strides, he’s standing before her with his hands balled into fists and a look on his face that had her shivering in the hot air of the club. 

“What is it that you think you’re doing?” Even with the music being so loud, she could hear the tone of his voice. He’s mad and she’s loving every second of it. 

“Dancing? What does it look like?” Only to fuck with him, she acted like she was going to walk off but he grabbed her arm, probably tighter than he needed to, to keep her in front of him. 

“You’re not going anywhere. We’re leaving.” 

Maria met her eyes before speaking up. 

“Excuse me, we were kind of in the middle of something. She’ll talk to you later.” She grabbed a hold of (Y/N)’s other arm and pulled her in the other direction. 

“I don’t recall speaking to you,” He replied coolly, barely giving her a glance. “Let’s go, (Y/N).” He tugged her back towards him. 

“Harry, I want to stay,” Trying to loosen her arm from his hand, he only secured his grip more. “I’m not doing this right now.” 

“You had a chance to tell me all of this over the phone and you refused. So I took it into my own hands and you just have to fucking deal with it.” 

“She doesn’t need a babysitter.” Maria tried to pry his hand from (Y/N)’s arm but it was no use. 

“I said fuck off, Maria. This has nothing to do with you.” He said through gritted teeth. (Y/N) knew that all of this was only riling him up more. And she knew she was in for it whenever he got her alone. Whether that be tonight or a week from now. He still wouldn’t be over it.

“It’s okay, Maria. I’ll call you tomorrow morning.” (Y/N) spoke up, wanting to diffuse the situation because as soon as Harry told her to fuck off, she saw the change on her face and she knew she only had seconds to spare Harry from the rant Maria was about to go on. She knew enough about Harry to do some damage and (Y/N) didn’t want to make it worse than it was. 

“Are you sure?” She asked, shooting a mean look at Harry. 

“Yeah, I’m sure. I had fun.” She managed to give Maria a side hug with her one free arm, telling her to let her know when she made it home tonight, before Harry was dragging her off towards the club’s exit. 

It was silent on the way to the car as she expected. He’s fuming and has not let up on his grip on her arm once. She wants to tell him that it’s uncomfortable but she doesn’t think it’s a wise time to talk. Especially to complain about something. 

He’s taking them back to his place. She’s unsure why. She figured he’d drop her on the curb in front of her apartment and ignore her for a week but no. He’s going in the opposite direction. 

Whenever she snuck a glance at him, his jaw was locked and his eyes were forward and his brows were furrowed so fiercely it looks like it hurt. But she says nothing and waits until she’s on the couch at his place, watching him pace in front of her. 

His laptop must have been abandoned on the couch before he left to come get her because it’s on the cushion right beside her. She almost asked where he gets the nerve from but decided to let him speak first since he seems so out of sorts about it. 

“You are the most immature person I’ve ever met.” He finally said, stopping to stand directly in front of her. 

“Excuse me?” 

“None of that would’ve happened if you’d just used common sense. But apparently, you lack that, don’t you?” 

“Listen, I don’t need you to—”

“Who the fuck was that?” 

She knows he’s asking about the photo and she wants to ask him how he saw it but he’ll shut down immediately and call a cab to take her home. 

“Who?” 

“That—That guy with his hands all over you. While you’re drunk! How fucking irresponsible of you. It’s like you want to be taken advantage of.” He talks to her like he’s doing her a favor by lecturing her but the only thing it’s doing is making her mad. 

“Give me a fucking break. I can handle myself, thank you. I wasn’t drunk! I had two drinks, Harry. Two! I don’t need you to stand there and boss me around like I’m a child or something.” She wanted o stand and leave just so she can make him even more mad but she stays, just to see what he’s going to do. 

“That’s because you act like it!” He practically shouted back at her. “And you fucking wonder why I don’t want to be with you.” 

That stung. While she didn’t drink enough to be tipsy, she had plenty for her emotions to be out of whack. She felt her eyes get watery. 

“You’re an asshole.” This time, she did stand, with every intention of walking right out the door and not coming back. But he latched onto her shoulders, not letting her move from get spot. 

“You’re not leaving so I suggest you sit right back down.” 

“No.” 

“No?”

“No.”

“See, that’s your fucking problem. You don’t listen.” He emphasized the word, pushing at her shoulders until she was forced to sit back on his couch. 

“I don’t have to listen to a word you say, Harry. You’re not my father and you’re not my boyfriend, so fuck off.” Her arms crossed as she leaned back into his couch. He’s not going to let her go anywhere, so she might as well get comfortable. 

“But you want me to be your boyfriend, don’t you?” A smirk made its way to his mouth. “I know you do and you think you have to behave this way to get my attention and it’s fucking ridiculous.” 

“So you’re jealous? Is that what this is?” 

“Jealous? You know you’re not the only one I’m fucking, don’t you? I don’t have shit to be jealous over because there’s ten more numbers in my phone that can do it just as good as you can.” 

“That’s not what you were saying the other night.” 

“Sometimes people just say things. What did you want me to say when my dick was in your mouth?” 

For him to be so blunt about it was upsetting. She knew all of that, she just didn’t know why he needed to say it. It hurts. He has to know that it does, but maybe that’s why he’s saying it. 

“Why did you come to the club then? I thought you were busy working.” 

“Because you were making bad decisions.” 

(Y/N) could kill him. She really could. 

“How do you even know that? How do you know I was with a guy?”

He stopped right in front of her, still glaring. She’s got him in a corner. He pretty much has to admit that he watched her Instagram stories because how else would he have known? 

“You know what? This isn’t working. You should go,” He stepped away from her, shoving his hands into his pants pockets like he was being thoughtful or something. “I knew from the beginning. You’re too young for me and we’re not on the same level. I can’t play these petty games with you. I won’t.” 

All of that because he doesn’t want to tell her he stalks her Instagram because he is in fact jealous over any male attention she gets that’s not from him. 

“I’m too young for you? That’s what you think the problem is?” Pushing herself up from the couch, she stood in front of him again. “The problem is that you care about me but you just can’t tell me you do.” 

“Get the fuck over yourself.” He muttered, turning his back to her and starting for the kitchen. 

“It’s true! You’re so scared to commit to anyone that you’d rather push everyone away even when you really don’t want to.” She followed him as he grabbed a glass from his cabinet and started filling it with whiskey. Way more than he needed but she doesn’t tell him that. 

“Maybe it’s just you, (Y/N),” He set the bottle down, turning to meet her eye. “Maybe I just don’t want to commit to you.” 

“Then let me go.” It was almost a plea because she was tired of the back and forth with him. She wanted him entirely and he only wanted to fuck her. It’s not fair that he’s been stringing her along for nearly two years. This isn’t something that she wants anymore if it means she’ll never get to have him. 

“You could’ve gone whenever you wanted to. I’m not keeping you here.” He leaned against the counter, looking relaxed, like he didn’t care to have the conversation. 

“Sure,” He has to know that’s not how this has been going. She’s been trying to get away from him, he always finds a way back in. “Don’t call me when those other ten numbers are busy then.” 

Turning her back, she went directly to the door, ready for this to be the last time she ever sees him. Because he’s not giving her what she needs and she can’t be here anymore if that’s the case. 

A hand grabbed onto her shoulder and spun her around. 

“You get on nerves so fucking bad.” And then he was kissing her. 

This happened often. A heated argument where one of them is close to leaving for good turns into sex. She was steps from never seeing him again and now she’s riding him on his couch with her hands in his hair, kissing him like she’d die without him. 

Sometimes it felt like it but she tried her best not to be dependent on him in any way. It was hard because she really did like him. She wanted more with him and thought that they could be good together if he’d just give her a chance. As of now, this is the only thing she’s good for in his eyes. 

Before leaving, she freshened up in his bathroom. She wasn’t going to overstay her welcome. She just wanted to go home and try not to think much about him over the weekend. 

When she left the bathroom, he was in the kitchen with a glass of water in his hand, only in his underwear. 

“I’ll call you a ride.”

“Don’t bother, fucking jerk.” 

Snatching her purse from the armchair, she left his apartment. Just because he fucked her doesn’t mean she’s not mad at him. He interrupted her night because he was jealous. He’d never say that but she knows that he cares about her in some capacity. He doesn’t want anyone else to have her but he can go off with whoever he wants and she’s just supposed to be okay with that. It’s not right or fair. 

(Y/N) would say she’s never going to see him again but she knows the outcome will only be the opposite. It always is. 

***

It’s been a week. 

Not the longest they’ve gone without contacting each other but it’s killing her to know that he’s still getting his fix with other people and she’s sitting at home on a Friday night with nothing to do. 

She’s not certain he is but she knows that he has “needs” and she just can’t see him going a week without getting off. It’s not like him. She wished she had people on the side like he does but Harry takes up such a wide expanse of her brain, she hasn’t bothered with anyone else since they’ve been sleeping together. 

Harry was very clear from the start. He wanted to hook up, he just didn’t want the other stuff. (Y/N) thought she’d be alright with that but eventually, things shifted and she tried to tell him that she couldn’t do it anymore, she felt something for him, but the only thing he had to say was for her to get over it. Forget about it, it’s never happening. 

He thinks she’s too young for him. He’s got ten years on her. That doesn’t matter to her really but he thinks his reputation will suffer. People will think he’s shallow or something. She’s not quite sure exactly but that’s his reasoning for not wanting to be with her more intimately than he already is. 

She told him she loved him for christ’s sake, while he was inside of her, and she’s pretty sure he lost his hard on almost immediately. 

Twenty minutes was spent telling him she didn’t mean it and was just saying things. How could he blame her? She was on the edge of her fifth orgasm and he was pounding her into the mattress just the way she likes. What else was she supposed to say? 

He left after that with a gruff see you later and didn’t contact her for about two and a half weeks. It was grueling but (Y/N) did her best not to text first. One night at nearly midnight he sent her a message asking if she was “over that shit yet.” 

She said yes and he was at her door in less than ten minutes to fuck her hard and fast and then leave right after he came. She’d never felt so stupid and worthless. He always leaves her feeling that way but she still doesn’t hesitate to invite him over when he asks even though she knows this will all crash and burn soon. If she can have Harry like this, she’ll take it. For now. 

(Y/N) spent most of the night swiping left on a dating app. No one was peaking her interest. She’d gotten a few matches and had been chatting with a guy mindlessly but she wasn’t sure she wanted to take any further than messaging in the chat. He was nice but she’s a little bored. She considered just having a quick one night stand, just for something to do, but she really doesn’t want to have to meet someone new. It’s always incredibly awkward and tonight isn’t the night for that sort of thing. 

DON’T ANSWER: Still up?

She scoffed, swiping down on the message that popped up. She changed his contact name to try and remind herself not to answer him. But her fingers were itching to type something to him anyway. To tell him to leave her alone. Or to tell him to come over because she’s feeling lonely.

But she hesitated on answering. Because she knows how she’ll feel tomorrow if she answers him. To hate herself in the morning and spend all day punishing herself for something she could have avoided if she used a small bit of the common sense he says she lacks.

I’m outside and your lights are on.

Of course he is. She hates how persistent he’s being. If she denies him, he doesn’t push, ever. Because he doesn’t care enough. But he’s practically begging her to come inside, right? He’s outside of her building now. He’s getting desperate. 

Can I come up?

She wants to tell him to fuck off. He’s not worth it. But she is bored…so what harm will it really do? She’ll be in a bout of self-loathing tomorrow anyway. It doesn’t matter what she does. So, she sighed, quickly typing to him. 

(Y/N): I guess. 

Trying to keep it casual. She doesn’t want to seem like she’d been missing him after he left her on delivered for a week. And he’s the one that tracked her down at a club and dragged her out, only to almost end everything between them. For a moment, she wished he did end it all. It would make her life a little easier. 

A few minutes she waits in silence until there’s a knock on the door. Again, she hesitated. She can still turn him down if he’s outside. It’s when he gets inside and starts to sweet talk her that things get hard. She opened the door anyway and there he was, leaning against the door frame, a smirk already on his face. 

“How’ve you been?” 

To be completely honest, she almost slammed the door in his face, but decided to keep up her indifferent attitude instead. She turned on her heel, not answering him, and made her way back to her spot on the couch. 

She watched as he shut the door behind him and came to sit next to her, not deterred in the slightest. 

“What have you been up to?” Like they’re friends. Like he gives a fuck. 

“None of your business.” (Y/N) tried to keep her attention trained on the tv, despite him staring at the side of her face. She can’t look at him because that’s when everything will go downhill. 

“Oh, yeah? Thought we were friends.” His hand reached up to the back of her neck and he squeezed, lightly rubbing his thumb up and down the side. 

“You’re delusional.” 

He laughed, leaning closer toward her to set his arm over her shoulders. She’d been trying not to breathe in his cologne because it’s one of her favorites and he knows that. That’s probably why he’s wearing it in the first place. To soften her up and work his way back into her good graces after ignoring her for a week. 

“You’re a little mean tonight. What happened?” He tugged her into his side so her head rested on his shoulder. Immediately, she pressed her hand to his chest to push away from him. He didn’t let her get too far though. “(Y/N). Look at me.” 

He’s being so cruel. She knows if she looks in his eyes, her disinterested facade will melt and she’ll be a puddle right here on the couch beside him. And that’s just not a part of her plan tonight. She can’t. 

“Why are you here, Harry?” She asked instead, keeping her arms crossed to her chest. 

“I missed you.” 

“Yeah, right.” 

“I did. You don’t believe me?” 

“You haven’t messaged me back in a week. But you missed me so much you have to show up here unannounced and beg to come in?”

“Exactly,” His hand grabbed onto her knee and squeezed. “I was a little busy this week, that’s why I didn’t get back to you. But that happens sometimes and you know it.” 

“Hm.” She hummed, not believing a word he said. All she can really feel right now is his warm hand sliding from her knee further up her thigh. 

“I didn’t mean it. You missed me, didn’t you? That’s why you’re mad at me.” He leaned into her again, his mouth finding her neck and leaving kisses down the side of it. 

“Nope,” It was a bit harder to keep her composure with him pressing wet kisses to her skin, so she pushed herself away from him to give him a stern look. “I think you should go.” 

“Why? It’s been too long, I need you.” He tried to grab onto her shoulder but she moved off of the couch to stand in front of him. 

“I think it’s better if we don’t. I’m…I’m done with this. It’s not benefiting me in any way to be with you.” (Y/N) doesn’t have the exact words for how she’s feeling but she does know that if she’s strung along by Harry for much longer, she’ll probably lose her mind. Is it so bad that she wants a boyfriend? Is it so bad that she wants someone to commit to? Harry thinks so and she can’t do this back and forth anymore. 

“Are you kidding me? Not benefiting you? You’re getting the best sex of your life out of me and that’s not benefiting you?” He scoffed, like he was annoyed that just sex wasn’t something she wanted. 

“It’s not enough anymore.” 

“So, what? You want a boyfriend?” 

“I think so.” 

He blinked at her, seeming to be thinking about something. And then he sighed, clenching his jaw. 

“We’re good like this though, (Y/N). Come on.” He caught her hand in his and squeezed. She wanted to snatch her hand away immediately but if this is the last time, maybe she should hold on a little longer. 

“Maybe at first it was good but I can’t do it anymore. It’s not the same.” 

“What’s not the same?” 

“Harry. I told you I loved you and you fucking screamed at me for twenty minutes about how you don’t do relationships and how I knew what I was getting myself into.” 

He dropped her hand as soon as she reminded him of it. And then he rolled his eyes. 

“I didn’t scream at you—”

“Yes, you did.” 

“Whatever,” He said sharply. “It’s true though, isn’t it? And it’s not my fault you can’t control your emotions. You said you were over it.” 

“Well, I fucking lied,” Tears are quickly accumulating and she knows she only has so much time before she can’t contain them anymore. She doesn’t want Harry to see her cry ever again. “Just go, please. I can’t do this with you.” She turned her back to him, trying to quiet the sound of her sniffling but it was hard when all she wanted to do was break down. Harry is so mean. If he really wanted nothing to do with her, why doesn’t he leave her alone? Why does he show up out of nowhere and try to be nice and act like he wants her? She’ll never understand. 

“Here we fucking go,” He muttered behind her. “You’re crying now? (Y/N), you knew what this was supposed to be. You can’t be pissed at me because you took it too far.” 

“Go, Harry. I don’t want to talk.” Using the collar of her shirt, she wiped the single tear that fell, hoping the rest would hold off until he left. 

“What did I do wrong to make you love me? Hm?” He spun her around, almost forcing her to look up at him. She hated that he made her cry again and hated it even more that he got a front row seat as more tears came down her cheeks. 

“I’m not talking about it.” She stepped around him and started back toward her bedroom. He’d only follow her but maybe if she can get back there and hide away under her blankets, she can ignore him long enough for him to let himself out. 

“I think I deserve to know, don’t I?” His voice followed her, of course, and when she pulled the blankets over her head, he was ripping them right back off. “Why are you running from this? If you love me so much, tell me why.” 

“Leave me alone.” She tried pulling her blankets back but his grip on them was too tight, so she just turned over, shoving her face into her pillow. 

It was quiet for longer than she thought it’d be after she felt him settle down near the bottom of the bed. She wondered why he stuck around when she told him to leave. But she didn’t move her head from the pillow. 

“My place is getting renovated. I need somewhere to stay tonight. Do you mind?” 

“Fine.” She murmured, not daring to move. Not even when she heard him undress and slip into bed beside her. He could probably stay anywhere else in the city tonight but for some reason, he came here. To argue and eventually persuade his way into her bed. She doesn’t know how he does it. 

“I don’t like seeing you cry, you know. Even though you think I’m horrible.” He spoke up after some time. They hadn’t moved and the only thing she could hear was the ticking of the clock in the hallway and occasionally him breathing. 

“It’s fine. Maybe I should control my emotions better.” She said half-heartedly. Because she didn’t believe that at all but if that’s what he thinks this is, so be it. 

“I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“It’s fine.” Keeping her back to him, she reached over to click off the lamp beside her, enveloping the room in darkness. It was better this way. The further he kept himself away from her, the easier it will be when this is all over with. 

“Goodnight, (Y/N).” His arm slid across her waist to hold her to his chest but she didn’t bother responding, she just shut her eyes and hoped he’d be gone by morning. 

****

Harry woke up before (Y/N) and considered leaving, but when he looked down and saw her face still puffy from last night, he hesitated. 

She probably cried long after he’d been asleep and normally it wouldn’t bother him. But for some reason, he’s feeling a little more sympathetic than usual. 

Her phone buzzing three times on the nightstand on the other side of her caught his attention. It’s only six in the morning. Who could be messaging her like that at this hour? 

Harry’s nosy. He can admit it. That’s why he always knows where (Y/N) is, even when she doesn’t want him to. It might be a total invasion of privacy but he reached over her and grabbed her phone. He’s seen her type in her password more times than he can count so he’s easily let in. Once more glance at (Y/N) who is still sleeping and he’s swiping down to see her notifications. 

He sees the icon for a very popular dating site and a few messages from someone named Jace. He only reads the messages on the screen because if he opens them, she’ll know he was on her phone. 

Jace: Sorry for the late reply, I fell asleep. But your job sounds really cool. 

Jace: It’s been really nice talking to you, would you want to get breakfast sometime?

Jace: No pressure if not. We can keep talking like this :)

Harry scoffed as quietly as he could manage and locked her phone, setting it back next to her. He’s not even sure what (Y/N) does for work. He’s never asked. But it must be “really cool.” She can do better than that. 

Breakfast? How fucking cute. Is that really what she likes? Would that work on her? He doesn’t know and he honestly doesn’t care what she does in her spare time. 

He does contemplate deleting the messages and unmatching with the guy but that might be a little too far. He leaves it alone for now and goes back to staring at her ceiling. 

Five minutes later, he finds himself in her kitchen trying to make something to eat. He can’t cook for shit, he has someone else do it for him, so he does try but he ends up ordering in instead. And he pays a little extra so the food will be here as quickly as possible. 

A half an hour later, he’s plating the food when (Y/N) walks out of her room, rubbing her eyes. She stops suddenly when she spots him in her kitchen. 

“I got us breakfast.” 

She blinked her tired eyes a few more times before taking a few steps closer to him. 

“Oh. Okay. Thanks.” 

Everything she does is hesitant. From standing next to him, to grabbing a plate and beginning to eat. It was quiet when they sat down at her small table to eat. Sometimes, Harry has no idea how to talk to her. Should he ask about her? That feels stupid. He’s known her for nearly two years and at the moment, he can’t recall a single thing about her. 

Her favorite color or favorite food. If she has a brother or a sister, what she does for work. Suddenly, he feels really shitty. He never takes her anywhere unless it’s him trying to make up for something he did to make her sad. And he knows their arrangement. He told her nothing like that would be a part of it. But thinking about it now, maybe he should be a little nicer. He likes her company and she’s always very sweet to him. He’s not sure why he can’t return it. 

“I can’t cook. I ordered in.” He blurted out, watching as she tried to keep a smile down when she looked at him. 

“I know, Harry.” She went back to her food and it was quiet again. He’s getting restless because she told him it was over last night and now she’s not saying anything. He doesn’t want their arrangement to end, he just often finds himself saying things he doesn’t mean and things that he knows will make her cry. There’s no logical reason for it, he doesn’t know why and wished he could stop. 

“Thank you for letting me stay last night,” He looked at her as she avoided eye contact, instead finding something to do in wringing a napkin in her hands. 

“Sure,” She shrugged. “What’s getting renovated?” 

“A lot. So I can’t really sleep there. They just finished up the bathroom yesterday but I have a whole list for them. It’ll probably take another week or so.” 

“Where are you staying?” 

“A hotel, probably. I can’t bother you anymore with it.” He chuckled, finishing off his plate in one more bite before pushing it away from him. 

“It’s not bothering me. I…like having you here. It’s nice to wake up warm,” She says this quietly, almost like she didn’t want him to even hear it but he doesn’t respond. He doesn’t know how without making her frown, so he just hums. “But…um, okay. That’s probably best.” 

“I should get going.” He can’t bear to watch her face so downcast, so he leaves the table and goes to get dressed after scraping his plate clean and placing it in the sink. 

When he’s finished in her room, he comes out to see that she hasn’t moved from her spot at the table. She’s picking at her food now. He wanted to tell her to finish eating for his peace of mind, but all he does is send her a wave before leaving. 

(Y/N) messaged Jace back, telling him that she’d love nothing more than to get breakfast and talk more with him. He’s nice and full of compliments. And he actually listened to what she was saying and appeared interested. She can only hope that he’s as nice as he is through messaging as he is in real life. 

****

Harry: Brunch today?

(Y/N) froze when she saw his message. He’s never asked something like this before. 

She’s at work, slowly making her way through her to-do list when her phone buzzed in her desk drawer. Normally, she’d ignore it because she’s working but something had her opening the drawer and swiping on the screen. 

It’s a weird thing to ask. During the work week? Brunch? What does he really want? 

(Y/N): Where?

He’s typing immediately after the message is delivered.

Harry: My office. I already ordered food. See you at noon. 

She tossed her phone back in the drawer and shut it. She’s not a fan of him telling her to do things but for some reason, it always gets her to do whatever he wants. 

(Y/N) found herself standing outside of his tall office building five minutes till noon. She’s never been inside before and she really doesn’t know how to go about it. So, she texts him quickly, asking if reception is expecting her, but before she could send the message, Harry was pushing through the glass doors with a smile on his face. A pleasant one at that, so she couldn’t help but smile back. 

“How’s your week been?” And then he hugged her, right there on the street. When he pulled back he still held onto her shoulders, looking her over. 

“Uh, it’s okay. How’s yours?” 

He led her inside with his hand holding hers. She didn’t mean to look around to see if anyone noticed, but she did. Harry never touches her unless they’re alone, as if he doesn’t want anyone to see them interact. And now he’s dragging her through the lobby, to the elevators, all with a smile on his face. 

Once they were shut inside the elevator, she took her hand away, with some difficulty because of his grip, and then she shot him a look. 

“What’s going on?” 

“With what?” 

“Why are you so…” She trailed off, not having the right word. She didn’t know what to say. Why is acting like he gives a fuck all of a sudden? Some days she doubts he even likes her but now this? It’s strange and she can’t help but think he has some ulterior motive. Harry doesn’t do things like this without reason and she’s really confused. 

“So what, love?” He pressed a button to get to a floor so high she thinks she might be dizzy when she gets up there and then he turned to look at her, almost fondly. 

“Why did you invite me here?” Maybe if he can answer his question, this might all make sense. 

“Haven’t seen you in three days. I just thought you’d like to have lunch with me. You don’t work too far away, do you?” 

“Ten minutes or so.” She muttered, looking away from him to the shiny elevator doors in front of her. He’ll never give her a straight answer, so she might as well enjoy this while it lasts. Harry can switch on a dime and right now he’s almost being…sweet. She can’t ruin that. 

He introduced her to the receptionist on his floor even and she tried to keep her facial expression neutral. There’s no purpose behind it and she wonders why he does it if she’ll probably never be back. 

Her name is Becca and she’s very enthusiastic and shakes (Y/N)’s hand so eagerly she thought it might fall off. 

“You’re just as pretty as Harry says you are.” 

Another revelation she has to keep a straight face for. 

“Oh, thank you.” She tried to smile while shooting a glance in his direction, only to see him giving Becca his own look of disapproval. 

“I mean, he—he’s mentioned you once or twice. Not like…a lot or anything.” 

“Thank you, Becca. We’ll be going,” Harry spoke up, grabbing a hold of (Y/N)’s arm to lead her to his office. 

It’s exactly as she’d expect it to be. Sleek and modern, windows lining the wall behind his desk. He has a spread of food scattered across his desk and it all looks mouth watering. Even though she’s incredibly confused and a little concerned about where this new personality of Harry’s is coming from, she’s still going to eat because everything looks delicious and she’s starved. 

Brunch is similar to breakfast the other day at her apartment. It’s quiet, neither of them knowing what to say. She did thank him for the food and asked him where he got it because it was just as good as it looked and he responded with as few words as possible. 

“What are your plans for the weekend?” He asked, breaking the quiet in the room. 

“Um,” She thought it over. Breakfast with Jace on Saturday, but she didn’t want to tell him that because he’d probably flip. And while he won’t tell her why he’s got a problem with it, he’ll figure out a way to talk her out of it. “Going out with Maria Saturday morning but I think that’s it.” She lied, even though she wanted to rub it in his face that she had a date and there was nothing he could do or say about it. But again, he’d find a way to stop her from going. 

“I want to take you somewhere so cancel it.” 

Harry’s betting that (Y/N) has a date on Saturday morning with that guy from the app and the thought doesn’t sit right with him. She wouldn’t tell him that’s what she’s doing either. So instead, he’s going to take her out of the city so she doesn’t even have a chance to meet with him.

He can tell by the slightly shocked look on her face that she wasn’t expecting that. He wasn’t either but he’d spent last night booking a hotel and arranging a flight for them. She pretty much has to go because it’s all already paid for. 

“What?” 

“Don’t worry about it. You’ll like it, trust me.” 

(Y/N) isn’t sure if she trusts Harry or not but she’s willing to give it one more chance. Maybe going away with him will be good for them and then he’ll realize that he actually does like her a little bit. 

And canceling the date with Jace…she did want to go, he’s been very nice and respectful so far. Definitely a change of pace. She can only hope that he’ll take kindly to a rain check because she does want to meet him, just not this weekend. 

“Um, I think that’s okay. Why so suddenly?” She doesn’t feel like eating anymore but not because she lost her appetite or anything. But she’s almost a little excited. She wished she wasn’t because Harry’s good for disappointing but she can’t help it. 

“Need to get out of this office for a bit. I was getting away anyway, just thought you’d like to come along.” He shrugged, relaxing back into his comfortable looking chair. 

“Hm. Alright, sounds fun,” She muttered, looking him over again. Harry isn’t spontaneous. She knows that for certain but this isn’t like him. Something out of the blue, taking her somewhere with him. It’s strange and she wants to interrogate him until she gets an answer from him that makes sense but instead, she just agrees, wanting to keep the peace. 

When she told him she had to be on her way back to work, he offered to walk her back down to the street. She wanted to decline, just so she could go beg Becca to tell her what else Harry says about her but he doesn’t really give her a choice.

But before they could get to the elevator, Becca stopped them anyway.

“You should come to the event next Friday, (Y/N). I’d love to see you there!” She smiled sweetly and (Y/N) couldn’t help returning it before glancing discreetly at Harry.

“Um, not sure yet.” An event? She knows Harry would never invite her to something like that but the thought is nice.

“Well, think about it. This is your formal invitation—”

“We’ve got to go, Becca. I’ll be right back.” Again, Becca is receiving a pointed look from Harry that (Y/N) is pretty sure she knows what it means. He didn’t want her to know about the event or whatever is going on. And that is very clear.

“Tell Harry to give you my number.” Becca waved, as the elevator doors shut.

“She’s nice,” She commented, trying to dispel the awkwardness that flooded the elevator. He had no intention of telling her that and now that Becca said something, he probably felt just as uncomfortable as she did. Time for a change of subject she guesses. “You really aren’t going to tell me where you’re taking me?”

“Not yet, no. Let it be a surprise, okay?” Harry walked her all the way back to the street and they parted with a promise to see each other later. He even kissed her cheek before she could get too far and that had her practically running from him as she rushed out another goodbye. 

There’s so much for her to think about, her head is beginning to hurt but there’s still a hint of warmth swirling in her stomach from that tiny display of affection on the street. But while things do seem to be up in the air, maybe they really are getting somewhere.

****

A nice i-“don't”-want-you-but-no-one-else-can-have-you fic!! I tried to make him a little forgivable in this one!! This is the fourth version of this and somehow he’s the nicest of them all lol. I hope you enjoy, sorry it took so long 😁

tags: @vamprry @1un4zsq @marzhshaim @sunflowersloverr @tenaciousperfectionunknown @caynonmoondreams @elidoho @peterbenjaminparke07 @daydreamingofmatilda @kissitnhekitchen @amberbambridge @danaehldy @straightontilmornin @forgetdelaney @harrysonlylover @idrawshapesonpeople07 @me-undiscovered @llina01 @80s-outsiders @littlenatilda @outofthisworl-d @butdaddyilovehim-hs @cherrys4suckers @harrystylessslut @sceleratuspoeta @hssunflowervol6 @indierockgirrl @honeyharlows @satellitelh @daphnesutton @tfharries @opheliaofficial07 @hermionelove @nathalielovesonedirection @velvetballaspark @watermelonlover @kathb59 @theofficialprongs @myloveforrreadingspost @harryshousewhore @harrysolaf @szoszi2004 @buckyssbestgirl @ellaorchard @trooooye @daylighthazzz @prettytulips @stylesfever @mayamonroem @fake-coolbeans @slut-for-artists @kailaxharlow @i-do-dumb-shit @lunaharrygurl

his hands.... H E L P

Grumpy, Part IV (FINALE) - A Harry Styles Imagine

PAIRING: Harry/Y/N

RATING: PG

WORD COUNT: 12.5k

A/N: omg did i actually finish a series??? wow.. thanks to everyone for the love and notes on this series, it’s been a blast and has improved my writing a bit too. be sure to check out my masterlist for more of my writing too!

“You should leave,” you say in a low voice.

“You’re fucking joking,” Harry scoffs, shaking his head while breaking the heartbreaking gaze between you two. Then he meets your eyes again, scowling. “Fine, this was fucking stupid to think would work anyways,” Harry almost hisses out the words to you.

Another punch to the heart. And then it breaks when he turns around, slamming your door behind him. The room is silent following his departure. You’re zoned out on the door, thinking maybe he’ll walk back in, but he doesn’t. With your heart beating hard in your chest, you wet your lips as a tear falls down your face. Slowly moving to your sofa, you hug the small pillow and let yourself cry. But after this, you had to get yourself back together and be the person Jeff knew you to be. The person he seemed to need - not the one that had gone behind his back and fallen in love with Harry.

or

The one when Y/N and Harry’s emotions are all over the place and they’re unsure how things will end.

(Find previous parts here and future blurbs too!)

⏤

Keep reading

if I really think about this scene and his lips in this scene i feel butterflies in my stomach 😭🥺

Go Home

in which Harry is jet lagged and you’re completely humiliated.

To be fair, he said he didn’t wanna go. 

Keep reading

Ok now you need to write something about anal cockwarming. You brought this upon yourself

I did… didn’t I?

It’s an unusual position…

… really unusual.

She’s sprawled out on her front upon the mattress of the hotel bed, with her arms folded and acting as a pillow for her pillowy cheek to rest upon, dressed in nothing but a loose shirt that she’d taken from his tour merchandise the previous night. Her knickers having been long forgotten after he’d ripped them from her hips in a haste to have his face between her thighs so he could sleep and dream of how she tasted. And, instead of being sprawled out beside her and occupying the rest of the mattress and using up his own space, he’s sprawled out on top of her. Naked and completely exposed. Cheek pressed against her shoulder, arms wrapped around her middle, his thighs resting upon the backs of hers with his toes nudged into the soles of her bare feet. His nails scratching up the soft flesh she walked upon.

She’s already awake when he rouses from his deep slumber; having been rudely poked awake from the heated and hardening shaft of his cock that had laid perfectly where the backs of her thighs met. A soft giggle escaping his throat, muffled by the t-shirt on her back, when he felt her squirm beneath him. 

“You’re a lump,” she grumbles against her forearm, ignoring the feeling of his nose pushing her hair from her neck, “you’re heavy. Wouldn’t be surprised if you squish the baby, as well as me, under all this hefty weight.”

“Shu’up,” he hums in amusement, moving his legs and resting his knees against the soft sheet of the mattress, “m’not that heavy, love. I probably would’ve suffocated you by now.”

She rolls her eyes as he begins peppering kisses to the nape of her neck.

“We need to get up soon, you know? Or else we’ll have Jeffrey banging on our door, using the spare key from the reception, demanding we get up. He’ll get a nice view of your bare, peachy bum if he pulls away the duvet,” she giggles, scoffing at the raspberry that he blew against her neck, “you’re a child. How on earth are you going to be a daddy at the end of this year?”

“I’m already a daddy,” he whispers deeply into the back of her ear, nibbling on her earlobe as she groans and turns away from him, “you call me daddy, baby girl.”

“That was once,” she cries out in annoyance, “I don’t call you daddy. I call you a fucking idiot.”

He cackles loudly before he falls silent again. Seeing the corner of her lips quirk as she tried to hide the smile that fought to be visible. He lifted his head and switched sides, his face being a few short centimetres away from hers as he began peppering kisses against her cheek.

“’member when-”

“I remember calling you daddy, yes.”

“That wasn’t what I was going to say,” he snorts against her cheek. His morning breath flushing over her lips, wafting through her nose, and for the first time, her stomach stayed away from churning. Because she rather enjoying the position they were in and she didn’t want to ruin it. “I was going to say, do you remember when we tried cockwarming?”

She clenches at the thought; how could she forget?

Having his cock thrusting into her was one thing… but having him resting into her, with no sexual advance to it, was another. 

“Of course. Are you too lazy to sort this boner out?”

He hums in confirmation and nods against her cheek.

“Can we try it up the rear end?”

She chokes on her laugh as he pulls away, leaning all of his weight on one leg, on one side of his body, as he slipped a hand between their bodies. Fingers brushing over her backside as he wrapped his hand around his shaft and gave himself a few jerks. 

“S’gon’a hurt though. Didn’t bring any lube.”

“Why do we need lube when I’m leaking pre-cum like the broken shower faucet in out Switzerland hotel?” He smirks, nudging his thumb over his tip and collecting the dribbles of pre-ejaculate, clear and sticky, that dribbled from the pulsating and throbbing tip. “Surprised you can’t feel the puddle sitting on your bum.”

She snorts into the pillow before she mumbled a gentle ‘okay’ to him. His bottom lip situating between his teeth as he chewed on his flesh, squeezing his cock and jerking himself before he lined himself up with the puckered hole between her pillowy cheeks. Pushing slowly into her, hearing her whimper and cling to her pillow, hearing her toes crack from curling up.

“No sex or anythin’, okay? M’too tired fo’ that. Just absolutely love warmin’ my cock up in yeh.” xx

Saturday Night Live with host and musical guest Harry Styles - 16/11/2019

What’s sex