Part 6 of: Age Gap!Harry (Patreon)

HIIIIIII :D IT'D BEEN FOREVER SINCE I WROTE THESE TWO I DIDN'T REALIZE IT SO IM SORRY!!!!!!!! I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS PART. I HAD TO DO A LIL TIME JUMP SO THAT I WASN'T WRITING ABOUT SNOW ANYMORE BC I KNOW MYSELF AND I WOULD MAKE THIS A WINTER BLURB AND NOT UPDATE IT FOREVER SO THIS WORKS I HOPE!!

LOVE YOUUUU!! :-)

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

(3.5k+ words)

vi.

Y/N had imagined the rest of the snowstorm way differently from how it happened. 

Because she was good, while Harry worked, she waited patiently as he told her to, and she knew she’d be rewarded for it. She thought about the roast he was going to make and how good it probably would be. She thought about how she was going to crawl into his lap and kiss him breathless. She thought about how she was going to pull his prick out and ride him, and squeeze his thick, muscly thighs with her hands and dig her fingers into the flesh until he whimpered over it. Y/N was practicing kegels even, in fun little patterns that – if she could remember in the moment – she’d try to do while he was inside of her. She was giddy and giggly, and a little desperate to feel his cum dripping on her or out of her or something. 

And from the moment she woke up to about 2 PM, that was the reality of her day, and the plan she was going to follow. 

Then Niall calls her. 

“I’m coming home,” he said, his voice shaky and trembling in the way that it always does when he’s crying. Y/N went from her horny la-la-land mindset to concerned best friend so quickly that it nearly gave her whiplash (once, Niall had all but busted into her room when he was having a panic attack, and she had to toss the toy she was using on the other side of the covers – thankfully, she was beneath the blankets at the time so he hadn’t seen her puss and all, but she did have to admit to him what happened, even if only to make him laugh a little). 

“Hey, babe, what’s wrong? Are you okay? The roads –” 

“He’s cheating on me!” Niall exclaimed, “Fucking, dick, and I – I read through his phone, and he was talking shit on me to her, I don’t care if I have to fucking walk home, I’m not staying here even a single second more.” 

If she could send a missile to Oliver’s flat right now and only target him and none of his surrounding neighbors, she would in a heartbeat. Even though Niall was desperately trying to act nonchalant about their relationship, she knew that he was starting to get attached. He was buying things for himself while they were out, and was doing silly, lovey-dovey things like remembering the date of Oliver’s sister’s birthday and knowing the time, down to the minute, that he was born. He was checking compatibility charts and had even fought for tickets for a band he didn’t like that much, just because Oliver had been wanting to see them live for years. 

So, she had been able to tell that he was in too deep, but hadn’t confronted him about it. Niall very rarely starts getting these relationship vibes, and he seemed so happy, she didn’t want to spook him out of it. Now she wishes she had called him whipped, and Niall probably would’ve cut it off to maintain appearances or something. 

How dare Oliver make her best friend cry? Small dicked, prick. Y/N had seen his dick pic by accident once, so she’s allowed to say that. She scrambled up to sit straight from her slouched position, grimacing at a sore little twitch in her back from being in the same position for hours. She wanted Niall away from him, of course, but she had no idea the state of the roads, and she knew for a fact that none of the sidewalks would be plowed or salted by now. And there’s no way that Niall’s old car with bald tires was going to travel well on these roads. And with him being sad and crying? 

“Hold on, Ni, don’t leave yet, I’m coming to get you.” 

She is so tangled up in the blankets she’d been in that she almost tripped and fell face-first on Harry’s floor. Y/N made her way to Harry’s office door, gently rapping her knuckles against the door even though it was left slightly ajar. Harry hummed softly, “Come in!” And when he saw her distraught face, he mirrored it from where he sat at his desk, the computer screen showed some sort of Excel-like sheet that just looking at made her head hurt, “What’s wrong, baby?” 

“I’m sorry I’m bothering you, but do you mind if I use your snow plow?” Y/N asked, holding onto the knob of the door – it’s icy cold to the touch, “Niall’s sort of boyfriend is a huge ass, and he wants to leave the flat, but his car is like – not prepared for these roads. I just got snow tires at the beginning of winter, though, so I’d rather take my chances getting him than him definitely sliding off the road.” 

Harry’s brows raised, “Babe, I’ve seen your car, that little thing is practically a go-kart,” he pressed himself up from his seat with a little groan, “C’mon, I’ll take you, yeah?” 

Y/N startled, “Oh, I – really? Are you sure? I don’t want you to have to leave –” 

“I’m not putting you on the roads,” he clicked his tongue, “I don’t mind, Sweetheart, and I have a lot of experience driving on roads like these.” 

So they both bundle up. Harry stuffed her in a pair of his sweatpants on top of hers, and one of his long sleeves, plus the winter coat and boots that she had trekked over here with in the first place. This, plus her hat, plus gloves, and a scarf. “Is all of this really necessary?” Y/N inquired, words muffled against the scarf, and Harry chuckled, tucked his fingers into the front of the knitted material, and wiggled it down beneath her chin. 

“The wind chill is horrible,” he told her, “It’s important to dress like you might get stranded somewhere.” 

It is very, very hot to see Harry drive. Y/N has always thought he was pretty hot driving, though she was never in the passenger seat before to witness it. She’d only ever caught glimpses of him leaving his house or coming home, but even through the window, she could tell that he was sexy. So to get to see it from this angle is delicious, even with the given circumstances. The car is warm while Y/N gets Harry up-to-date on what they were driving into. Harry listened closely, nodding, his brows dipped when she explained what exactly happened, so he hadn’t required any sort of explanation prior. She also explained that Niall may be a little hysterical, so she prepped him for that, though she really doesn’t think he needed much prepping at all. 

They get there relatively quickly and very safely. Niall was already waiting outside, his nose bitten red and his cheeks flushed pink, partly from the glacial winds accosting them. But with how his eyes were rimmed red and puffy, some of the color in his face was from crying too. Y/N rolled down her window as Harry jumped out of the car, “Come here, baby,” she motioned for him, and Harry grabbed his duffel for him, then carefully guided him over the slippery patches in the parking lot to his car. Y/N unbuckled to turn and face him, a frown on her mouth. 

“He’s the fucking worst,” Niall whined, teeth clicking together with each little shiver and rattle of his body desperately trying to regulate its own temperature, “I’m going to frame him for money laundering and get him imprisoned.” 

Y/N nodded, “Yeah, we ought to get the FBI involved or something,” she suggested when Harry was opening the door, hopping back into his car (even his face was pretty red from being outside even for a couple of seconds), “Money laundering, gun smuggling, drug trafficking – shit like that.” 

Niall searched for her hand to hold over the center console, and Y/N laced her gloved fingers with his own, then squeezed them, “Thank you both for coming to get me,” he murmured, after a sniffle, “I’m sorry you had to leave your cozy house just to – just to get me. I’m just going to go home and rot in our cold, electric-free house like a man in 1812 with only a bow and candle. “ 

“Nonsense,” Harry cut in, “You can come to my house, yeah? We aren’t leaving you alone with no power.” 

So Niall and Y/N do stay with Harry for dinner. And Niall does end up spending the night, finally opening up to Y/N that he actually really liked Oliver, and that’s why this was cutting so deeply. Harry chimes in, imparts words of wisdom about taking his time to recover after this and not jumping to another relationship immediately. Then, after they eat, they both wash up, and they both get into comfortable clothes (Y/N is in more of Harry’s clothing, but Niall has a headache from crying, so he doesn’t mention it). They end up falling asleep together on Harry’s couch, with all the attachments, it is like another bed after all. While Harry’s showering, she and Niall pass out, cuddled up in each other’s arms. Y/N has Niall as the little spoon, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and his head brought to her chest. 

Harry did come to check on them after his shower, and Y/N is just awake enough to hear him chuckling, a soft sound. The blankets are fixed around their bodies, tucked just below where Niall’s head rests, and then another blanket is pulled around her shoulders to avoid smothering Niall. There are a few seconds where his hand caresses the top of her head, and Y/N feels goosebumps tickle up her arms. 

She’s a little bummed, sure, because she really had been interested in experiencing what it was like to fuck Harry – but bros before hoes, and all of that. Above all, she needed to make sure that Niall was okay, so sleeping with their very hot neighbor, who had been taking care of her during the snowstorm, came second. Hopefully, that hadn’t been their only chance, though. Y/N had appreciated the momentum she’d built that pushed them both into doing it, but for some unnerving feeling, she thinks that it might be hard for an opportunity like that to come again. Even though she could just amble her way from their door to his. 

“Sleep well,” he murmured, and Y/N slipped into her slumber moments later. 

                                                                     .                           .                        .

It turned out, Y/N had every right to be nervous that the momentum would fizzle out. 

She couldn’t solely blame Harry. The following morning, the roads had been pretty cleared for the most part, and both Y/N and Niall got messages on their phone that the electricity had been fixed in their house. Which meant that both of them needed to go home and deal with all the food that had no doubt thawed in their fridge and freezer, because she had forgotten to take it out and stuff it in the snow to keep it cool. Already, with the addition of Niall, it had felt like their little snow globe bubble had popped, but this surely snuffed it out. The mail was running, dogs were barking at delivery services, and places that had been closed due to inclement weather are now saying ‘open’ on maps again. 

Life went back to normal, which meant that Y/N and Harry’s relationship sort of went back to normal, too. She had his number, so she knew she could probably send something dirty and filthy to let him know that she still wanted to fuck him, but. . .well, like, why hadn’t he messaged her something about it? Beyond his reply to her thanking him for taking care of her, he hadn’t suggested anything either. He didn’t even bring up all the filthy stuff that they had done together at all. Granted, neither did Y/N, but still. . .she doesn’t know. She’s feeling shy about it all of a sudden. 

Which was weird, because she is definitely usually a forward person. However, she is also in the business of getting too deep in her head, so if she’s the only one making advances, then she begins to assume that she’s the only one who wanted it to begin with. Had she pressured him into it? Harry had seemed accepting of it at the time, but maybe he was regretting it? If she made him do something he didn’t want to do. . .god, she’d feel sick over it. But surely, he wanted to do it, right? He’d came when he was eating her out, so he at least wanted to do that part? And everything he’d said to her had been so downright filthy. 

Y/N doesn’t know. It’s something she’d usually rendezvous with Niall about first thing, but he was going through something the days following, and Y/N was not about to drop her problems on top of that. 

Hell, by the time Y/N did let Niall know, winter had fizzled out into warm sunny days and wearing tank tops outside for extended periods of time again, opposed to bundling up and freezing just to get the mail. They were at a lemonade stand – one that turns up in the middle of their ‘main street’, which was a collection of little shops and restaurants on a cobblestone road. It’s the perfect place to set up food trucks and stands to catch people’s attention, and Niall and Y/N’s attention is always caught by bright, colorful signs and the promise of being refreshed after feeling so parched. 

Niall all but screamed when she revealed what they’d been up to, “Stop! I cockblocked you!” 

“No, you didn’t –” 

“No, I so did, oh my god. Babe, next time, tell me to take my crying ass elsewhere. I can’t believe I came between you and probably the best dick of your life.” He reached out and squeezed her knee, “You're such a good friend, what the hell? I love you. But also, you’re so stupid.” 

Y/N pouted, “So, yeah, he hasn’t said anything about it, and I haven’t either. Which, I don’t have a problem being the driving force behind things, but – like, I feel like I already showed my interest tenfold. He knows I want to do it,” she waved her hands around, “So shouldn’t he like... make a move? Am I being dramatic for thinking that?” 

Niall shook his head, “No, that’s not drama at all. I think he should definitely make the next move, but I also could see why he might think you aren’t interested anymore. Like, maybe in a snowstorm with nothing else to do, you want to fuck him, but afterward, maybe he got into his head? About being older and all of that? I don’t know,” he sighed, “Straight men are so confusing sometimes.” 

“Oh, he’s Bi though.” 

“God, no wonder I like him.” 

It wasn’t like things were necessarily awkward between them either. They still bumped into each other getting mail, and sometimes they’d come home while the other was leaving to get in their car. And things were always friendly – hell, they were even friendlier than before, at least! They stop and talk to each other rather than just passing waves and well wishes. But it was never very flirty or anything – talk about their days, about their neighbors, a new recipe Y/N could smell Harry cooking on his grill, and a new fabric softener Harry could smell from the outside of her house, through the dryer vent. Y/N didn’t remind him that she’d said he could have bent her over in the front yard and fucked her in front of their neighbors if he wanted to. Harry didn’t remind her that he’d fed her his cock in the kitchen when he’d been cooking her breakfast. 

Neither says anything even remotely incriminating about the time they spent together. Had Y/N hallucinated the whole thing? She’s starting to think so. Maybe she should just take a hint and get over it, but Harry was the first guy to eat her out, so how was she supposed to just get over that? His tongue was insane! That alone had been getting her off for months at this point, and she’s starting to feel a little desperate and pathetic over it. 

Honestly, Y/N thinks all hope is lost, especially when she caught him with someone one night. Or, well, caught implied that he was doing something wrong – he’s allowed to see other people, obviously, it’s not like they’d been bound by blood or something. It still sort of sucked, though – she’d kind of been hoping that he was staving off for her, how she had been for him. But Y/N was outside on her porch with the light out, sat on the ground in a particularly darker spot (she hadn’t been trying to be sneaky or anything; this just discourages people from trying to chat her up when they’re on late-night walks, and she has a hard time trusting anyone out past 11 PM unprovoked). Y/N hadn’t even known Harry wasn’t home until what seemed to be an Uber pulled up in front of his house, and he and someone else stumbled outside of the car. There was giggling, shuffling, the fumbling of keys, and the sound of kissing. Y/N pouted at the cricket she’d been staring at, but finally accepted that a wash was a wash. Maybe he really didn’t want her as she thought. And she was just his desperate, pathetic little neighbor who’d thrown herself at him, and he was too nice to reject her. 

But only a couple of days after she’d witnessed that, Harry knocked on her door. 

Y/N hadn’t been expecting anyone. She’d just gotten out of the shower when she heard it, so she barely had time to dry off, and instead, was rushing to put clothes over her still damp body. It was a sensory nightmare, of course, but she made do; it was nothing particularly scandalous. Just some shorts that were probably a touch too short, but they were soft fabric and meant for sleeping, and a tank top that she’d been planning on wearing anyway, while she tried to de-weed their driveway and garden. 

When she looked through the peephole to see Harry, her brows almost shot right off her face. 

“Oh?” She murmured to herself before twisting the knob as she unlocked it, pulling it open, “Harry?” She doesn’t hide her confusion, her head tilted to the side, “Is everything okay?” 

Y/N does catch the brief sweep down of her body that he does when she first opens the door. She also saw the way his face almost immediately flushed pink, but maybe that was a little bit from the heat too – it was scorching outside. 

“Yes!” He blinked a couple of times before locking his eyes with her, all pretty and green, “I was – just wondering if – I mean, I’m going to barbecue tonight,” he explained, “And I was planning on having a few people over, so I wanted to extend the invitation to you and Niall.” 

“Oh!” She nodded, because she isn’t stupid – she loved Harry’s cooking, and she was not passing it up for anything, even if her feelings might be the teensiest bit hurt, “Yeah, sure. What time?” 

“People will probably show up around 4 PM-ish?” 

She smiled softly, “Yeah, that’s good. Niall gets home from work around 430, so he’ll probably want to shower first, but we’ll be over.” 

“Yay,” he matched her smile, his dimple sweet in his cheek, but there’s something like nerves lingering in his gaze, like there’s more he wants to say, “Um, and... afterward... are you busy tonight?” 

Y/N shook her head, “Apart from that invite, I was probably just going to like – do a face mask or something. Otherwise, no, I’m free. Why?” 

“I thought maybe you might want to stay after, for a little? To. . .to talk?” 

Y/N stared at him. 

Oh. 

Oh? 

“That sounds good, I like talking,” she smiled, nodding, “Should I be nervous about the discussion, or –” 

“No! Not at all, I – I’m hoping it's a discussion we both like?” 

Y/N giggled, “Okayyy, sounds good. I’ll see you tonight.” 

“See you tonight.” Harry waved, and when Y/N clicked the door shut, she peeked through the peephole to stare at him walk away. He was still on the porch, a hand over his chest like he’d worked himself up to do this. That’s cute, she thinks. Had he just been too shy to bring it up this whole time? Y/N doesn’t know, but she’s interested and excited to find out what this good discussion is going to be. 

She needed to find something perfect to wear.