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honeyangelkiwi · 15 days

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DRIVE ME WILD | Part 3

Plot: You and Harry are attending the prestigious Masters Tournament. You’re bored out of your mind, which is something that drifts to think all about your boyfriend. You need him so badly, and soon enough, you’ll have him.

Sexual Content: degradation, praise, spit, size kink, light choking w/belt, spanking, oral (h receiving) and raw sex. For an 18+ audience only.

Word Count: 7.8k

DRIVE ME WILD | Part 1

DRIVE ME WILD | Part 2

You swore up and down that you’d never return to a golf course after last year’s fiasco at Cherry Creek Country Club. You’re still recovering from the humiliation of being the world’s worst player, with Rochelle and Elijah gloating about their win on a weekly basis, and Harry still bringing up the fact that your joint loss as a duo cost him a grand.

But being in love with the man that just won’t let it go means that you have stepped back onto the green, although you’re not a player and neither is he. You’re both simply spectating; your location the prestigious Masters Tournament in Augusta, Georgia.

Yesterday, you and Harry flew from The Big Apple to the Peach State, with the exclusive event beginning this morning. You were a little hesitant to go because truth be told, you really hate golf. Whether it be playing it, watching it being played or conversations about it, it doesn’t matter. You’d rather watch paint dry.

Harry loves it, though, and you love him, so you tolerate it for his sake and act as enthusiastically as you can. He went to the Masters alone last year and had a great experience, but he wanted you with him this time around. He doesn’t like leaving you if he can help it; as obsessed with you as you are with him.

With that in mind, thoughts of sunshine-filled weather and Harry murmuring how much he’d love nothing more than to see you in a short tennis skirt once again, you agreed. It had been a while since you’d both been on a trip together; the last occasion being a trip to the UK to meet his family Christmas just passed.

You loved it there as much as you loved meeting his loved ones, and you’re starting to like it here in Augusta as well. Despite the fact you’re bored out of your mind, the Southern heat just hits differently. It’s helping you get through the dull game.

The sun shining doesn’t compare to Harry’s smile, though. He’s worn one a mile wide since you both woke up this morning, so adorably excited about the day ahead. You can’t be in a bad mood when he’s beaming. It’s impossible.

He, as always, was your alarm clock, waking you up from your slumber in an Augusta National Golf Club’s five-star hotel bed with kisses on your mouth, and then some more between your thighs. It’s been the same way ever since you moved in together half a year ago; your twelve-month official relationship going from strength to strength since it began.

You and Harry moved somewhat fast since he asked you to be his girlfriend. Within a month, you both spoke those three little words. He met your family a couple after that, and then you met his a few more later. You've been on a couple of trips. You finally paid off your student loans and then bought a new apartment together in the Upper East Side, with all things at Pleasing still booming and better than ever. There’s even plans for you both to rescue a dog at some point, too.

You’ve never been more in love, and Harry has told you he feels the same way. He’s it for you, and you’re it for him. Marriage is on the cards. Babies, too.

Right now, however, you’re just enjoying the company of one another. Life is wonderful and has turned out better than you ever imagined.

The reason for that wonderful life now whistles, your head turning to look at him by your side doing so. Harry has his fingers wedged in the corner of his mouth to make the sound, the crowd around you applauding. You assume that some player has made a good shot, but you really aren’t sure.

You don’t intend on looking away from Harry to check, either. The only person that matters to you is him, and he’s looking more delicious than ever.

Harry turned thirty a couple of months back, and the new decade is already treating him well. He once made a joke to you about twenty-nine being a real problem, which it was given how whorish he was with you whenever he got the chance. Pretty much daily, as it would turn out.

But you truly believe the final year of his twenties won’t hold a candle to this current one and all the ones to come. Thirty, dirty and flirty. That’s what you told him he’d be and so far, he’s very much lived up to that.

Harry slips his fingers from his mouth now to clap his hands, instead, chatting to some old boy next to him as he does. You have no idea what they're talking about, far too focused on the protruding veins on the back of his hands as much as you are the thoughts of those big palms either wrapped around your throat, or marking your ass up.

You take Harry being distracted to scan him over, even though you usually do it when you’ve got his focus, too. Your bottom lip is wedged between your two front teeth as you take in his all navy get-up of a lightweight jumper, polo shirt and flared slacks combo adorning his beefy figure, and the black shoes on his feet matching the black Gucci shades on his face.

That face of his is one your mind briefly jumps to think about riding; your favourite seat. Harry pulled you down onto it a couple of nights ago, and the recent memory of how good his tongue felt inside you, how his facial hair tickled you and how soft his growing-out buzzcut locks felt between your fingers as you ground your cunt down onto his mouth now makes you tingle a tad.

A shudder wrecks through you, the movement earning Harry’s attention. He’s turned to you with a grin, brows raised and head cocked.

“You okay?”

“Mhm.” You lie, because right now isn’t the time to let Harry know how you’re really feeling. He’s having fun, “How much longer?”

“Not long, I promise.” He smiles, slipping his arm around your waist and pulling you into his side. A kiss is pressed to your temple, his lips shifting from smile to smirk, “I’ll have you back in our room to show me what’s under that skirt of yours in no time.”

You pull back, squinting up at him with a smirk of your own. You should have known that if your mind is in the gutter, Harry’s would probably be in it with you. You’re both ridiculously alike, even if you haven’t divulged your dirty thoughts out loud.

“And if I said nothing?”

Harry leans back a little, the sunglasses covering his eyes unable to block their ability to pierce your skin with a simple stare. You can feel his sights glide down the length of you, and that, along with his tongue running along the inside of his cheek as he checks you out so unabashedly, makes you squirm.

He’s back to meeting your gaze, dimpled smile looking sweetness in light when you know his mind is currently anything but, “Then I’d say that’s my good girl.”

… LATER

As some old fart talks to you about his golf handicap like you have any clue what he’s going on about, you’re really wishing you were still outside. At least it was sunny there, and Harry was by your side.

He wandered off to the bar to get you both a refill a few minutes ago, but being the social butterfly he is, especially under golf circumstances, you know he’s definitely gotten himself swept up in a conversation with a person he knows. Regardless of where in the world you are, he somehow knows someone, and someone somehow knows him. Harry has friends in all corners of the globe.

You look around the fancy golf club hotel's lounge as the random man rambles on, your head nodding and the occasional ‘mhm’ made so it looks as though you’re paying attention. You’re not, though. All that’s on your mind is the quiet promise Harry that made you an hour or so ago now about what lies ahead for you both.

Those plans haven’t been talked of again, with Harry focused on the game and then on talking about it once it wrapped up. You didn’t mind that his attention was elsewhere, more than happy to just hang onto his arm and smile up at him dreamily. He’d always send you one back whenever he could, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips after it. That was enough to satiate you.

But it isn’t anymore. All you want, need, is for you and Harry to leave the lounge and head up to your suite. What will happen in it is all you can think about, those thoughts blocking out the inane chatter of the gentleman who talks your ear off.

A pair of large, veiny and oh-so-familiar hands now snake around your waist, linking against your stomach before pulling you back into a muscled torso. You smile at the feeling, that expression only growing as Harry presses a kiss to your lobe.

“Harry, my boy!” The old man beams, lit up at his arrival, “I was just telling your lovely lady here all about the 1966 US Open! The year Casper won. I was there, you know?!”

You turn your head a little to face Harry, side-eyeing him for help. He picks up on it, simply grinning before he slips his hands onto your waist. He gives you a squeeze, looking back to the man who’s name you haven’t the foggiest on.

“You’ll have to tell me all about it some other time, Don.” Harry smiles politely, the foundations for your joint exit being set, “I need to steal my love away, if you don’t mind?”

Don swats his hand, sipping his whiskey quickly, “Not at all. We’ll catch up soon, yes?”

“Yes, we will. Enjoy your night.”

You’re hastily pulled away and through the crowd, turned to face forward with one of Harry’s arms wrapped around your waist still. Everyone you pass smiles and nods at you both making your way across the room; pleasantries you both return, too.

Harry brings you to a stop in a quiet corner of the lounge, rich people's conversation and laughter filling it. He drops his arm and you face him full on, and then it hits you. Two and two have been put together on something, and it has you swatting his ab-adorned stomach with the back of your hand.

“You sick, sick man!” You gasp, a grin from Harry appearing upon you finally realising what he’s done, or more appropriately hasn’t done, “I knew you weren’t going to get us drinks! You left me there with that man on purpose, and it nearly bored me to death!”

You go to playfully hit him again, but he’s catching your wrists in one hand while chuckling. That action causes a flutter in your stomach and your cunt, your eyes dropping to look down at his large hand wrapped around you like a vice. Just how you like it.

“I actually was on my way to get us drinks, but I had a change of heart.” He tells you, your focus pulled up and brows raised in wonder.

Harry smirks at you, his free hand tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear as he leans down to whisper into the other, “I can’t stop thinking about how that tight little cunt of yours is all naked under that pretty skirt. ‘S had me rocking a semi since you told me, but now I’m rock fucking solid.”

“Is that so?” You hum, your pussy throbbing and head spinning.

“Mhm. Always so hard for you.” He hums, pulling back with a grin.

A moan traps in your throat as he runs the back of his finger across your cheek before pulling your bottom lip down, his eyes on your teeth before letting the plump area snap back into place. You want to brave your gaze down to where his cock will be tenting his slacks, but he’s holding your eyes so intensely you can’t. Harry has you locked in place. Just how he likes it.

You give him a grin once you’ve collected yourself a tad, some confidence now coursing through you from knowing the effect you have on your man, “We should get out of here then, shouldn’t we?”

“We should, yeah.” Harry winks, hand letting go of your wrists to link his fingers with yours, “You ready, Peaches?”

Peaches. Another nickname for you from Harry. He usually sticks with calling you baby, love or darling, but a new one crops up whenever you venture to a new place together.

For example, you were cutely called Crumpet when in London, Limoncello when in Rome and now, in the Peach State, the new name was an obvious choice. He loves peaches, and he loves you. Win-win.

You give him a nod and a grin, “Lead the way, sir.”

A few minutes later, Harry is swiping the key card to your shared suite, a quick and quiet beep following to signal it’s unlocked. The walk from the lounge to here was smirkingly silent, the pair of you filled with too much sexual need to speak.

He walks you over the threshold, letting go of your hand once inside. You step in a little further, with the sound of Harry pushing the door to click closed echoing through the luxurious room. Any and all tension has followed you both into it.

You turn around, finding Harry with his hands behind his back and a dangerously delicious smile on his face. Your hands are sweaty, and there's another swarm of butterflies in your stomach and cunt at his eyes dragging over your body.

“Bedroom. Now.”

His voice is dripping with dominance, every part of you tingling from the tone. You love it when he’s all blunt like this, which sometimes has a tendency to evoke a side of you that Harry loves, too.

You don’t move, a smirk stretching your face, “Make me. Or have all of those thoughts about my pussy made you incapable?”

“So that’s the game we’re playing tonight, hm?” Harry scoffs as he walks towards you, your feet taking you backwards until you bump into the back of the leather Chesterfield sofa situated in the centre of your suite’s living room.

With nowhere to go, and him towering over you, your confidence somehow soars despite his demeanour. You know it’s about to be fucked out of you, so you should keep a hold onto it while you can.

“Actually, I had a different one in mind.”

“Yeah?” Harry questions, head cocked and fingers now ghosting over your lips, “Pray tell, Peaches.”

You swallow hard, his darkened irises dancing between your own making it hard for you to breathe. You have to keep it together, though. You need to for this all to play out perfectly.

“It’s called Liar Liar, Panties on Fire.” You murmur, watching as his eyes round in wonder, a cocky jerk of your chin following, “You ever played it before?”

Harry shakes his head, a laugh expelled through his broad nose, “Can’t say I have, no. You gonna tell me how it works?”

“It’s really easy.” You hum, your hands smoothing up his solid stomach to his pert pecs, “All you gotta do is guess.” “Guess what?” “Guess whether or not I was telling the truth earlier on about my panties.” You grin, brow raised as you dig your nails into his clothed chest, “Get it?”

Harry laughs again, nodding as well, “Got it. Witty title. I like it.” “Thought you might.”

“What do I win if I guess right?” He asks, rolling his bottom lip into his mouth for a hot second before releasing the area all glossed up, “I’m assuming there’s a prize…” “You assumed correctly.” You smile, unhooking his sunglasses from his jumper’s collar where Harry tucked them earlier on. You toss the Gucci shades onto the sofa behind you, your eyes on his all the while, “If you guess correctly, you can do whatever it is you wanna do to me. If I win because you’ve guessed wrong, I get to do whatever it is I wanna do to you.”

Harry chuckles, his shoulder shrugging casually, “Sounds like a win-win situation to me, Peaches.”

“Oh it is.” You agree, fingers toying with the pearl necklace you gifted him well over a year ago now, “You ready, Boss?”

“Always.” He counters confidently, prying your hands off of his body to take a step back.

You watch Harry retreat, his eyes on yours as his feet take him to lean against the ornate wooden console table a few metres away. His head is tilted, lips pursed. He’s staring at your skirt, right where your completely covered cunt is.

You lied earlier, doing what you needed to do to get a rise out of Harry. Literally, as he would come to tell you. You’d feel bad, but there’s no point. Not when you’re both about to feel incredible very soon.

He lifts a hand to his chin, thumb beneath it and index finger tapping his puckered mouth. You know he’s faux thinking, that he’s come to an answer. He’s just dragging this out for dramatic effect, which is fine. You did the same by introducing this silly little game.

“I think…” Harry starts, finger away from his lips to join the rest as he grips the edge of the table, “I think you’re a liar, liar. You are wearing panties, but they’re not on fire. I think that they’re actually fucking soaked.”

He’s right. They are. The constant thoughts of him all day, whether it be past, present or future, along with the moment in the hotel’s bar and now here in your suite, have the flimsy fabric clinging to your core; completely saturated with arousal.

You want Harry to have his way with you. You didn’t need the game in order for that to happen, and only thought of it when you mentioned it, but it made the anticipation of your big reveal all that more fun.

Pinching the hem of your skirt, you slowly lift it up to show Harry that he is, in fact, correct. You are wearing panties, a pretty pale pink pair made of satin, and they’re wet. They’re so wet that you just know you’ve stained the soft material with your arousal.

At the sight of them, and learning he’s won, Harry kisses his teeth; a smirk stretching his lips, “Naughty little liar. And to think I called you a good girl earlier…”

“Oops?” You tease, eyes all wide and innocent from how you bat your lashes.

He tuts, shaking his head as he does, “What am I to do with you, hm?”

“I’m sure you’ve got something in mind.” You counter, letting go of your skirt so that it covers you again, “You were so blunt and bossy before. Bedroom. Now.”

Harry laughs at your imitation of him, standing tall once more. He doesn’t walk toward and back you up this time, nor does he tower over you. He doesn’t need to do either thing to assert his power. Harry has it all, because you let him.

“Go to where I bluntly and bossily told you. I want you naked and on your knees waiting for me.” He commands calmly, the chill to his cadence making a chill course through you, “Can you be a sweet peach and do that? Or are you gonna act up again and make life way harder than it needs to be?”

“Not only life, it would seem.” You quip, eyes flitting down to look at his thick cock straining against the confines of his flared trousers.

You wet your lips at the sight, gaze back on his to find it more blown out than before. He’s grinning, too, which makes you grin, “You know you wouldn’t have me any other way.”

“I can think of a few right now, actually.” Harry hums, hands slipping into the pockets of his pants as he nods toward the bedroom, “Let’s start in there, yeah?”

You gulp and nod, because despite how much more you can clap back, you’ve reached your capacity as of right now. You’re too turned on and desperate for him. You need the repercussions of your actions.

“Atta girl. I’ll be through in a minute.”

Your feet unstick from the ground and you’re walking towards the bedroom in a daze, feeling Harry’s eyes on your ass as you go. You strip quickly and sink to the plush carpeted floor a couple of metres from the foot of the bed; your hands in your bare lap and eyes to the floor as you wait. You’ve been in this position countless times, but it never gets less thrilling.

You literally count seconds as you wait for Harry, getting to 176 when he finally shows. You wouldn’t be surprised if he waited two minutes longer than he said he’d be just to rile you up some more.

His slow and sultry steps behind you make chills skitter across your naked body, the feeling of his stare only adding to that sensation. Harry undresses you despite already being undressed; his piercing gaze practically reaching your soul.

“Look at how pretty you are when you’re doing as you’re told.” He coos from behind you, a finger of his trailing across your shoulder blades.

His touch startles you as much as it satisfies, your heart going hard in your chest. He stops in front of you, your gaze on his black polished shoes, “Eyes on me.”

They’re on him in an instant, your head craned back to take in his tall stature towering above you. Harry smirks, his hand palming himself through his trousers for a second before he’s stepping back a bit; the backs of his legs hitting the bed.

You squirm in your spot just from looking at him, but you grow all the more restless watching him now push up the sleeves of his sweatshirt. He wears a lazy grin as he does, stopping when both sides are up just beneath the creases of his elbows, and his tattoos on both forearms are on full display.

But upon him shifting his hands to unbuckle his belt, you lose it. Any and all composure is gone. A soft moan slips past your lips, your thighs clenching together to suppress the tingle that’s kicking off from knowing what comes next.

“Where’d that smart mouth go, hm?” Harry teases, ripping the leather belt from the trouser loops in one quick motion. He sets it aside on the bed behind him before he pops open the top button, pulls down the zip and sits; legs spread and stare growing more intense.

“I just wanna put it to better use now. That’s all.” You speak, wetting your dry lips a little as you eye up his cock that’s begging to be freed, kissed, licked and sucked.

Harry splays his hands out behind him, his head cocked and smirk as dangerous as ever, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He jerks his chin toward you, his eyes roaming over the length of your face as he does, “C’mon on then, Peaches. Crawl to me like the desperate whore you are.”

You don’t hesitate, your hands meeting the carpet for you to move forward at a slow pace; your gazes never separating. You watch as Harry’s eyes blacken some more, and his cheeks grow a little flushed. He fights a groan at the sight of his love doing one of his favourite things. Obeying his commands.

Stopping between his legs, you stand tall on your knees; your hands on his thighs and your smile bitten, “Hi.”

“Don’t be giving me the cute act now.” He laughs lightly, features softening a tad as he looks at you so lovingly, “Your devious little ways have put you past the point of redemption. ”

Just how you like it.

You’re pulling the top of his pants open as wide as you can before tugging them, along with his white Calvin briefs, down; Harry lifting his hips a little to help you.

No sooner is his cock freed from the confines, it slapping up against his stomach, does he gasp with relief. The sound is raspy, guttural and so fucking hot, and it has you whimpering as you tug the materials down the rest of his legs in haste.

You waste no time in taking a firm grip of his length at its base, the silky smooth skin hot to the touch and quivering in your hand. Precome leaks from his reddened tip, and you keep your eyes on Harry as you spit down onto it before flicking your tongue across his slit; watching as his jaw goes slack from the sight and feeling while you happily hum.

Closing your mouth around it with a kiss pulls a lazy smile onto Harry’s lips, “Love you kissing on my cock like that. Feels as good as it looks.”

You repeat the action a few more times before you venture south, pressing kisses down his silky shaft until you’re at his balls. Harry fights his lids, seemingly desperate to keep his eyes on you doing one of the many things you do best.

Grinning against him, you flick your tongue against his balls before you’re trailing it up the prominent vein on the underside of his cock; choppy breaths pouring from him as he fists the bed sheets behind him.

Your journey ends when you’re back where you started: his tip all sticking with milky precome and your saliva. You went slow to begin with, knowing that Harry likes it that way. Building the anticipation is something you both enjoy, but now that’s done.

Now, he’s in for it.

Flattening out your tongue, you tap his tip onto it a few times. The corners of your mouth are quirked up into a grin, something he grins at. He loves it when you get a little cocky with his cock.

You wipe that expression from his face, though. Wrapping your lips around it and sucking makes his jaw fall slack, instead; enough spit in your mouth to make it sloppy. Just how he likes it.

Harry now hisses at the feeling your messy moves provides, his head tipping back as you continue to bob yours while twirling your tongue around not only the sensitive area, but his shaft, too. With every push, you’re lowering down his cock inch by inch.

“That’s it. Just like that. Doing so fucking good.” He groans throatily.

You get off on the praise as much as you do the degradation, but neither compare to giving your man the pleasure of your mouth. It gets you off getting him off, and you know he’d say the same about going down on you.

With every inch of Harry’s thick, long cock now in your mouth and curving down the back of your throat a little, you swallow. The movement tightens around his tip and earns you his full, fucked out attention; his face flushed and jaw dropped with a creased brow.

“Fuck. Got me all the way in.” He speaks through gritted teeth, bringing a hand to stroke your hair back before he’s holding the sides of your head with both.

Your eyes stream with tears as you hold him in your throat, saliva bubbling in the corners of your mouth and dripping down your chin. You breathe hard through your nose that’s flush against his abdomen, wanting to keep him where he is for as long as I can.

Your blurry vision doesn’t prevent you from seeing Harry, though. He’s watching you in complete awe; his eyes alight with love as much as they are love.

“You’re taking me so fucking well, Peaches.” He practically purrs, “This mouth and throat was made for me. You were made for me.”

Pulling back sharply, with the help of Harry’s hands, you gasp in air through your mouth that coughs and splutters a little. A string of spit connects between your bottom lip and Harry’s tip; something you sever as you work your hand up and down his length in slow strokes.

Harry gives you a lazy grin, his hips bucking up to meet your rhythm, “You’re gonna have a face covered in come in a minute if you don’t ease up.”

“Would you rather my throat was, instead?” You coo, more than ready to put his cock back in there, If it was possible to survive like that, you’d never have him out of it.

“So needy for my cock, aren’t you?” He laughs lightly, following the sweet sound up with a shake of his head, “I’ve got another place in mind for that. Stand up for me.”

“But I’m not finished putting my filthy mouth to good use.” You pout, giving his length a gentle squeeze as you do that makes him gasp and groan.

He’s quick to recalibrate, though; giving you a stern stare and smug smirk, “Don’t make me tell you again.”

You’re on your feet in an instant, Harry’s hands holding yours helping you up. You feel not only light-headed from going to town on his cock, but soaked. You’re dripping down the insides of your thighs from all the deep throating, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Harry.

“My messy girl. Look at you.” He teases, his eyes glued to your arousal coating your skin.

You try to close your thighs, but Harry letting go of your hands to pry them back open prevents that from happening. He tuts at your attempt, eyes up on yours glinting arrogantly. That only turns you on even more.

“Aht, aht. Don’t hide your mess from me.” He warns, wetting his lips as he looks down again.

Harry takes his time, and you know it’s purposeful. He knows you’re feeling desperate, the evidence clearly seen on your skin as much as it’s seen in the way you squirm. You told him he’d get to do whatever he wanted to you if he was right about your panties, and he’s exacting that right now. Harry loves to torment.

He’s back to staring up at you now from where he sits all manspread with you between his legs, hands slipping up from your thighs to your tits. His fingers play with your peaked nipples, pulling and teasing until you’re mewling for more.

“A liar and a cockslut all in one. How did I get so lucky, hm?”

His new description of you makes you quirk a brow in curiosity, amused by it as much as you are aroused, “You should be asking yourself how you came to the conclusion that I’m a cockslut.” “Case and point.” Harry counters, hand lifting away from your body to point at your sodden cunt while he grins at you, “Would you disagree?” “No.” You counter quickly, because it’s true. You are one. For Harry and Harry only. You’ll never get enough of it. Of him.

“Say it then.”

You squirm under his gaze, his glazing over upon wrapping his fist around his cock to fuck his hand slowly. His leaking slit knocks against your left thigh, each tap a tease.

“I’m a cockslut.” “Who for?”

“You.” You speak quickly, your response breathy and broken, “Only you. Always you.”

“Looks like my good girl is back.” He grins, glancing down at your naked body for a few long seconds before he’s back to your exposed and dripping cunt, “But your behaviour now doesn’t make up for your behaviour before. I had plans to pull you onto my face again, but liars don’t get their pussies eaten.”

His eyes are back on yours in a flash, his strokes slowing down a tad, “They do, however, get them ruined.” Your breath catches upon hearing that, the tingles in your body increasing tenfold, “Is that so?” “Mhm.” Harry hums, a sparkle in his eyes and smile as he nudges his chin forward, “So bend over, Peaches. I’ve got more of my prize to collect.”

You move to the end of the bed, lying your torso down onto it with your back arched and ass pushed into the air. Your hands lie above your head, the right side of your face against the soft duvet; your heart thudding against it, too.

Harry rises to stand behind you, your eyes on him over your shoulder to find his gaze glued to your bare ass and cunt; the latter wetter than ever. He groans at the sight, which is something you echo now as you watch him pick up his leather belt that he discarded earlier on.

“Do you remember the last time you wore this?” He hums, teasingly trailing the leather end over your ass, your whole body jolting lightly at the feeling.

You swallow hard and nod, “Mhm. Looked so pretty around my wrists, didn’t it?”

“It did.” He grins, no doubt thinking back to that night like you now are, “I’ve got two more places in mind that I wanna see it worn tonight, though. How does that sound?”

Your groan is your answer, the thought of where those places could be something you have a vague idea about. Both are an absolute must, though.

“Sounds good. So fucking good.”

Harry leans over you and presses a chaste kiss to the shell of your ear, “Such a good girl eager to please me. Thank you, Peaches.”

Within a second, the leather belt is wrapped around both of your thighs, the buckle cold on the back of them as Harry’s fingers work fast and expertly to close the ends together. You're struggling to regulate your breathing at the mere idea of where this is about to go.

Your legs touch now, the belt tied tightly with no room to move whatsoever. The anticipation is killing you. You feel dizzy in the most incredible way.

“You drive me wild daily, but especially right now. Like this. Looking so fucking sexy.” Harry hums, his right hand smoothing over your ass before he cracks it down with a hard smack. You yelp and jolt, the most lewd moan tumbling freely from your lips next as you sink into the sweet sting his spank brought.

Harry throatily laughs, smoothing his palm over the area you just know is cherry red, “Marking you up with my love. Just how you like it.”

You’re barely given a second to compose yourself from the slap before Harry is grabbing your hips and sharply sliding his cock inside of you, stretching you out and filling you balls deep in one quick motion. You gasp harshly at the welcome intrusion, clamped around him so tightly thanks to your bound together legs.

The tightness is something that has Harry struggling for breath. You see his neck veins bulge upon him trying to catch it; his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

“Holy shit.” He manages to hiss, hips flush against your stinging ass grinding ever so slightly, “Gripping me so good.”

You now clench your cunt around him purposefully, feeling his hips press into you that little bit more, even though there’s really no room for them to go. Regardless, it somehow makes him hit deeper than ever; his tip nestling against your g-spot causing your eyelids to flutter and throat to deliver a pathetic whine.

His hands on your hips hold them tighter, his blunt nails biting into your flesh. The slightly painful feeling there only drives you insane. As does the guttural groan Harry emits.

He doesn't hesitate to withdraw, and then he’s back to thrusting into you even rougher than he did before. You can feel your ass ripple upon Harry’s body connecting with yours; a motion that keeps on happening as he doesn’t relent with his fast, sharp and hard strokes that make you see stars.

Along with both of your moanings and groanings, the sounds of your skin smacking together echoes around the room. Tears roll down your cheeks as a lazy smile stretches your lips; pure bliss felt at the feeling of Harry’s thick cock fucking you just how you like.

“Feels so fuckin’ good, baby.” You pant, pushing your ass back to meet each thrust, “Can feel every inch. Every vein. God, you're so big, 'n I'm so fucking tight around you.”

The sound of your arousal slick around his cock grows louder, your words only spurring Harry on. He loves it when you’re vocal, especially when it’s to give honest praise or the truth that is telling him how fucking incredible and big his cock is.

You always fuck raw, having done so for the first time the day you became official. You both love it, and feeling every bit of him right now has you embarrassingly wet and in need of more.

“Give it to me, Harry.” You start, your words punched out from the pounding, “Need more. Need it rougher. Harder. Ruin my pussy like you said you would.”

Through your tear-filled eyes, you can see him looking down at where you both meet. His breaths are as broken as yours, the sight of your cunt and his cock only turning them choppier.

Harry removes a hand from your hip, and you feel it on the back of your thighs. You feel them suddenly unrestrained seconds later, the belt unbuckled now held in his grasp.

You keep your legs closed together, because how tight you are around him is too good of a feeling for both of you to rid. He looks at you now, a question in his stare as much as it’s in his hand. He’s already ready to have you wear his belt in the second place he had in mind for it.

You stammer out breaths between strokes, his rough rhythm resumed, “You want it around my neck, don’t you?”

Harry slow down as he leans over you, his lips in the crook of your neck that he kisses lazily, “Is that okay? Do you want it, too?”

“Yes. God, yes. Please.”

He chuckles quietly before pressing a caring kiss to your temple, removing the only hand he had left on your body to stroke up and down your back soothingly, “Love you so much, filthy girl. Face forward. Lift your head up a little, please.”

You do as you’re told, using all of the strength you have to do so despite how dizzy on dick you’re feeling. Harry slips the belt to rest against the base of your throat, the ends of it in his fists as he slows down his pace a fraction. He doesn’t pull back yet, because he needs to check something first.

“You remember the safe word?”

Neither of you have ever had to use it, because the purpose of the sex you have isn’t to push one another to that point. You know that Harry won’t restrict you enough so you’re unable to speak, but it’s just better to have the safety measure in place. If you were prohibited from being able to talk, then the back-up move of three quick slaps to either your arm or some part of him that’s reachable would do the trick, too.

“Cherry Creek.” You say, smiling as you do. Where you met two years ago is special to both of you. What better way to commemorate it?

You can’t see Harry’s smile, but you can feel it. It’s shining brightly, the effects of it heating up your skin.

“Atta girl. You ready?”

“Yes.”

The word leaves your lips, and then the top half of your torso leaves the mattress. Harry pulls you back from it using the belt around your neck, the air knocked from your lungs in the best possible way.

You prop yourself up on your hands, your back arched and head spinning. He doesn’t hesitate to resume his quick and rough pace of fucking you hard; different depths reached at the different angle.

Your head wants to lull forward with the complete ecstasy you’re feeling, but you’re kept in place thanks to the belt and Harry wielding it. His groans and grunts have grown louder and more feral, and the noise of your skins smacking harshly is even more pornographic-sounding, too.

“So good to me, Peaches. Look at what you’re doing for me. How well you’re taking me.” He mutters deliriously, drunk on you like you are on him.

You swallow hard, your throat dry and aching, but you love it. “Can feel you in my belly. God, ‘s fucking amazing.”

Something akin to a growl leaves his lips. Harry is fucking your harder than ever, a level you didn’t think was possible to reach. He's forever surprising you, though; one of the many things you love about him.

Your arms grow shaky from holding yourself up. Your orgasm that’s been building for what feels like day is close to erupting. The effects of it are bound to be deliciously devastating.

Upon Harry tugging the belt again, your hands leave the bed and you’re standing tall on your knees. You not only come flush against his torso, but you actually come. Hard.

Your cunt is clenching around him over and over again, your climax making you cry out in his hold. The belt was dropped seconds before Harry wrapped his arms around you, keeping you upright against his chest.

He’s still fucking into you, only the angle is up now. The angle hits deeper than ever before and makes your tits jiggle, your orgasm prolonged and perfect thanks to his never-ceasing pace.

It’s also messy. Really fucking messy. You can’t stop gushing, with groan after groan from Harry heard in your ear upon the sight and sound of you soaking yourself, him and the bedsheets below you both.

“That’s it, Peaches. Cover it all in that sweetness.” He drawls, moving one hand to grip your chin that he turns to face his way; your panting, parted mouths only an inch apart, “So fucking hot when you come like that. My messy girl."

Flinging your arms over your head, you clutch onto the back of Harry’s, the aftershocks of your orgasm still barrelling through you. You’re moaning into his mouth as he does the same into your own; his own high coming given how his body starts to stutter and his breaths are growing even more choppy.

“C’mon, H. Come for me, too. Fill me up, please. Need it so bad.”

Your words of encouragement are his welcome demise, his load spilling into you with a few sharp thrusts. His lips slam against yours; the most euphoric feeling hitting you when they do.

Your lips mould together perfectly as always. His lips wrap around your top one while he whines and whimpers through his orgasm, his whole body shaking as he comes as hard as you did. You smile the entire time, a lazy one of pure relief to have his kisses again.

Soon enough, you can feel Harry’s lips curved up into a big one, too. You both break apart from the tender kiss as soon as you start to come down from your highs, with Harry’s hands rubbing up and down your arms as yours mindlessly run through his hair.

With your still panting mouths inches from the other and your sweaty foreheads just about touching, you open your eyes and find Harry’s already opened. They’re looking at you with so much love; his cheeks pink and perfect, and grin as gorgeous as ever.

“Hi.” He utters, his voice rough and rugged, and almost enough to induce orgasm number two from you.

A giggle leaves your lips. “Oh, so now you’re the one that’s being cute?”

“I can’t help it. Just comes so naturally to me.” You roll your eyes playfully, Harry chuckling at the sight before he’s pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose, “‘M gonna pull out to run and grab a cloth, okay? Stay put?”

“Don’t need to tell me twice.”

He laughs again as he unwraps his arms from around you, your own falling to your sides as he carefully pulls out. You wince a little at the feeling, but smile at how much you like that, too; even though you’re already missing him being inside of you.

Harry steps back, but you can feel him staring. You know exactly what he’s gawking at, but still you turn your head over your shoulder to catch him in the act, smiling as you do.

The feeling of your gaze pulls his glazed over one that was just glued on watching his come drip out of you, back to your face. There’s a twinkle in his eye. You know he’s thinking something cheeky, and he’s about to say that thought out loud.

“I’m trying really hard not to make a peaches and cream comment.”

You’re quick to laugh at him, the sound loud and echoed by Harry, “Not hard enough, you perv. Now go and get that cloth.”

He leaves quickly, returning even quicker with the damp towel. You smile down at Harry as he works to clean you up, his focus on the task at hand with the occasional sweet kiss pressed to your thigh.

At the sight of his belt discarded on the bed, and one of your many travel bags perched up on the dresser beside it, you laugh. That pulls his attention up, his forehead furrowed and smile curious.

“What’s the joke?” You nod toward the bag, Harry’s eyes flitting there, “We packed a whole treasure trove of toys, and ended up using the belt I bought you for Christmas.”

He’s back to looking at you now, lighter laughter pouring from him as he shrugs, “There’s always next time.” “Next time we have sex, or next time we come to Augusta for the Masters?” Your response seems to catch him by surprise, his brows lifting now, “You wanna come back?” “I do. I had fun, in the end.”

Harry chuckles again, pressing another kiss to your thigh before he’s back to grinning at you, “Look at it this way, baby. By the time next year’s event rolls around, that Valentine’s Day toy collection of yours that we’ve been working on for so fucking long will finally be out.” “Well in that case…” You start, urging him to stand on his knees so you can wrap your arms around his neck and pull his mouth to ghost yours, “I fucking love golf.”

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honeyangelkiwi · 16 days

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Hii bestieee!!! Lazy Sunday Morning was perfect!!!!Are on wp too?? Cause u have written so good love to read more of ur work if u have on wp:)

i do have wattpad, but be warned it hasn’t been updated in like 2 years so there really isn’t much over there lol but it’s under the same name honeyangelkiwi

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honeyangelkiwi · 16 days

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Maisy and Harry are just friends (except they aren't)

Summary: It all started with the prompt "we're not just friends and you fucking know it", and then it turned into several short scenes about two people who are supposed to be just friends, except they aren't.

ONE-SHOT AU, friends to lovers, angst, romance, sweetness, smut +18 (explicit language and explicit sexual content) 25k words

It took less than five minutes for a girl to approach him.

Maisy sighed and leaned back in her chair, sipping her almost-empty-drink and watching the scene take place right in front of her.

To be fair, she wasn't surprised. In fact, before Harry had left the table to get another round of drinks, she'd thought about making a joke and bet how long it would take for a girl to divert him from his task. In the end, she didn't say anything, of course. First because she worried he wouldn't find it funny, but mostly because she was afraid he would see right through her words and notice how terrified she was about the possibility of seeing him with someone else.

So, yeah, she wasn't surprised, but that still didn't mean she wasn't upset. After all, she had spent the entire day secretly hoping things between them would be different now.

"You're staring," Niall muttered next to her, taking the seat Harry had been occupying until a couple of minutes ago. "Already told ya, if you want him, talk to him."

Maisy scoffed, shaking her head as if she could also shake his words away. Niall was sweet, but he was also oblivious to the fact that Harry already knew about her feelings and, still, nothing had changed. Although, if she really thought about it, maybe things were even worse now.

Ugh, why was he acting like that? Why did he keep pretending nothing had happened?

Harry was one of her closest friends, and one of the things she loved the most about him was how sweet and thoughtful he was to everyone around him, especially to those he cared about. That's who he'd been to her since the first day, at least. So even if he didn't feel the same, surely she wasn't expecting for him to simply ignore her feelings.

Over a week had passed and she hadn't talked to anyone about it. As the days went by, it became obvious that the more she thought about what had happened, the more anxious she felt. She figured she deserved to be honest and talk to someone, so she straightened her body and pushed her shoulders back, turning towards Niall and taking a deep breath before finally letting the words out of her mouth.

"We kissed."

Niall pulled his beer away from his face and turned his head, facing her with an open mouth and widened eyes. "Wha—Who? You and Harry?"

Maisy nodded, and Niall jerked his body closer.

"What the fuck?! You two kissed? When? How?!"

His reaction made her chuckle, but she dismissed his excitement by shrugging and finishing her drink before speaking again—as if the story wasn't that important or that interesting (and as if they both didn't know that was obviously a lie).

"He just came over last week and… I don't know. We kissed?"

It sounded more like a question, like she wasn't sure it had actually happened. But it had. The kiss was real. It had happened and it had made her feel all kinds of different and exciting things. And now she couldn't stop thinking about doing it again. And again. And again.

"Right," Niall scoffed. "Just like that? After five years hanging out together, out of nowhere, you both just thought you know what? Let's kiss today. Might be fun!?"

Maisy didn't know how to answer that, so she rolled her eyes and laughed lightly. Niall definitely had a point, and maybe in a couple of weeks—or months, or years—she'd be able to explain it better, but right then and there she honestly didn't have an answer. It wasn't supposed to happen and it definitely was not what she had in mind when she invited him over, but they were having fun and laughing and at some point she felt something shift in the air and she just… She just kissed him.

Just like that.

Maisy kissed Harry.

And then Harry kissed Maisy.

A lot.

The memory made her cheeks turn hot, and her belly fluttered. She turned back to the table and looked down, fixing her eyes on her fingers and picking at her nails.

Niall must have sensed her uneasiness, because he didn't pressure for an explanation, moving on to the next question with a softer tone.

"Does he know you like him, then?"

Maisy shrugged.

"He must know. I mean, he has to know…" She tapped her foot on the ground, narrowing her eyes as she stared at her fingertips, "right?"

She lifted her eyes just a second, just to question him, and Niall dropped his shoulders.

He moved closer, throwing his arm over the back of her chair. "Isy…"

She shook her head, then focused back on her nails. "You said it yourself, Ni, we hang out all the time… And, I mean, he stays over a lot, and we cuddle, we hold hands… I don't do that with everyone. You know that. He knows that. And also, I don't know, why would I kiss him like that? Out of nowhere?"

"Because it wasn't out of nowhere."

"Exactly!" She looked up, and her eyes landed on Harry once more. Maisy sighed. "It wasn't."

The girl was still there, talking to him, casually laughing and flipping her hair. And Harry seemed really into it, happily paying attention and nodding to whatever the girl was saying. Smirking so fondly that Maisy could even see his dimple.

Her chest tightened, and her stomach swirled.

"God," Maisy laughed bitterly and shortly, rubbing her forehead as she looked away. "I'm so stupid."

"Isy," Niall sighed, "Stop. You're not stupid."

"I am, though." She shrugged. "It's just… He never looked at me that way, you know?"

Her voice cracked, and she took both hands up to her face, hiding behind them with an exaggerated grunt. "Fucking stupid…"

Niall took his hand to her shoulder and sighed, offering half a hug as he squeezed her gently. "That's not fair, Isy. You know how incredibly amazing you are. And to be honest you're just so out of his league. So much better than anyone he could ever date. So he is the stupid one for not seeing what's right in front of him, ok?"

Maisy shook her head. She knew Niall meant well, but she also felt like he didn't understand where she was coming from. See, Maisy knew that Harry liked her, and how much he trusted her — after all, that's why they were friends in the first place. She knew that she was important to him and that she was the first person he'd call or the one he'd run to when he needed something. She knew Harry would let her cry on his shoulder, hold her, share a bed with her, and listen to whatever she had to say. Dates would come and go in his life, but she was still there and he wouldn't let go of her.

So it wasn't like he didn't know what (or who) was in front of him.

Harry just didn't fancy her. Simply as that. He didn't dream about her in the same way she dreamed about him. And he had never treated her the same way he treated the girls he fancied on their nights out. He had never offered to buy her a drink just because he thought she was pretty, nor had tucked her hair behind her ear just to kiss her neck. He'd never rested his hand on her leg under the table, nor whispered in her ear how badly he wanted to take her home.

Harry had never shown any signs of being physically attracted to her, and that really, really, freaking fucking sucked. Because there was nothing she could do about that. She couldn't force him to want her like she wanted him.

"Do you want to leave?" Niall squeezed her shoulder. "'Cause I think we should."

Maisy nodded, then dropped her hands down to the table. "Yeah, please. Let's just go."

"Ok, great." He smiled, relieved at the idea of taking his best friend away from there. "'M just gonna pee and we'll go, ok? Be right back."

Nodding to Niall's words and watching him walk away, Maisy couldn't help but glance over them one more time.

Without a doubt, if Maisy had a choice, she wouldn't actively compare herself to others, knowing it was an unhealthy and worthless habit. Then again, she didn't notice she was doing it until it was too late and her throat felt too dry to even breathe. Because everything about the girl standing in front of Harry seemed perfect, and everything about Maisy sitting at that table by herself seemed ridiculous — she hadn't even at least showered after work, for God's sake!

There were so many differences between her and that girl that it seemed impossible not to feel embarrassed about even thinking something could happen between them, or about even feeling something just platonic for him.

Besides the fact that the girl was extremely attractive, or that her hair was long, wavy and shiny, or that her dress hugged her figure amazingly, it was obvious that her body language screamed confidence and determination.

And she wasn't doing anything wrong, really, but Maisy wanted to push her away from him as soon as she saw her raise her body to whisper in his ear, touching Harry's arm and making him smile. It only got worse when Harry leaned in and tucked a lock of hair behind the girl's ear, letting his hand slide from her shoulder to her hand, and then resting it on her waist. He smirked, then whispered something back to her.

"'M back, let's go." Niall stood in front of her, frowning while blocking up her view. "'M gonna walk you home, then I'm gonna punch Harry's fucking stupid face. C'mon."

— — — — —

Maisy had a feeling it was Harry as soon as she heard the knock on her door, hence why she wasn't surprised to see him standing in the middle of the hallway. Still, it was barely past midnight, so seeing him there didn't make much sense—wasn't he supposed to be with the girl?

"Heyyy Haz!" She smiled, trying her best to appear nonchalant despite the fact that she had just spent thirty minutes crying over him in the shower. "Thought you were still at the pub."

"Can I come in?"

The tone of his voice was one she couldn't recognize, and Maisy froze for a moment. She blinked at him, taking in the intensity behind his glare and the tension all over his face. Her smile faltered, and she furrowed her brows.

"I—Yes." She took a step aside and raised his hand, showing him the way as if he hadn't simply barged in any other time up until then. "Of course."

Harry stared ahead and walked in, radiating so much tension and heat that Maisy's heart skipped a beat, then immediately sped up. She swallowed, closing the door before following his steps to the living room.

As seconds went by, he didn't turn to look at her, and she was able to spot a slight trace of red lipstick on his neck. It was hard not to picture him and the girl together, but it was even harder not to think about how it had felt to tangle her own fingers through his curls while tasting that same bit of skin. And it hurt that, no matter how much she wished she could kiss him again, somebody else had done that already just earlier that night.

"Are you ok?" she asked, pushing the memories away. "Did—Did something happen?"

Harry snorted. "I don't know. You tell me."

Maisy frowned, scrunching up her face and blinking a few times while trying (and miserably failing) to organize her thoughts.

"What? I—What's… What's that supposed to mean?"

Harry remained silent, though, and her chest tightened. Closing her hands into fists, she licked her lips and took a breath in, then looked him up and down.

"Haz, please…" her voice trembled, but she still tried. "What's going on? Talk to me."

Nothing changed, and she swallowed.

"Can you at least look at me? Please? I don't—"

"Why?!" He turned around, then, so abruptly that Maisy's mouth fell open as she took a step back.

"Why didn't you talk to me? Huh?!" Harry glared at her, his jaw tightened and his brows snapped together while he threw his hands in the air and raised his voice. "Why did I have to go through a massive fight with Niall to find out that you have—That you—I mean—" he paused, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. A moment passed while he took a deep breath, only for him to give a humorless laugh right after. "Jesus, it's so absurd I can't even say it."

"What…Why—Why are you so mad at me?" She wrapped her arms around herself, knowing Harry wasn't making any sense, but at the same time scared for what she thought he was implying. Had Niall gone back to the pub? He had walked her home only a couple of hours earlier, they'd talked a little, she'd cried on his shoulder, and then he'd left. She hadn't thought about where he would go next, just assuming he'd go straight back to his place, but maybe she'd been wrong? She just… She didn't… What was happening? "I—I didn't do anything. I don't even… I don't even know what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about the fact that Niall just yelled at me for half an hour for apparently breaking your heart, Maisy. That's what I'm talking about!"

There was a pause. A long and painful pause.

Harry's chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, fists clenched while his arms remained at his sides and he glared at her.

Standing a few feet across from him, Maisy's eyes welled up with tears. She knew Harry like she knew the palm of her hand, and out of all the times she'd imagined him finding out, anger had never been present. Shock? Sure. Sadness? Yes. Worry? Also yes. Pity? Almost every time. She'd imagined many things, and different emotions. Everything. Anything. But never that.

She'd never thought he would ever throw words at her so carelessly, so loudly, and so harshly. On top of that, she also didn't think she deserved them. Because, really, what had she done besides stupidly falling in love with him? She'd never gotten in his way nor stopped him from living his life. So, yeah, truly—why was he so mad at her?

She swallowed down her tears and clenched her teeth, blinking rapidly as adrenaline rushed through her veins.

"Oh, I see." She took a step closer and nodded, straightening her body and allowing her hands to talk along with her own raising voice. "So what? Niall tells you that you broke my heart and this is your reaction? What the hell Harry?! Did you really think this was a good idea? Coming back to my place in the middle of the night just to yell at me?! What were you thinking?!"

Harry flinched, and blinked. A mix of emotions flashed through his eyes, until he settled with anger once again.

"Of course I didn't think or plan this, Maisy! That's exactly why I'm here. I'm trying to understand because it doesn't make any sense!"

"What doesn't make sense?"

"Everything was fine, Maisy!"

She rolled her eyes and looked away, taking her hand up to pull her hair back and letting him say whatever he wanted to say.

"So I don't get it, ok?! I don't! And we were having fun tonight! Man I met this amazing girl, and was just about to take her home when Niall started yelling at me. For fucks sake! Out of nowhere! Of course she left and now I'm—"

"Okay, okay. Stop," she interrupted, holding her palms up and staring back at him. "Just… Just stop, please."

Harry frowned even deeper, and a long, low sigh fell through Maisy's lips. There was no point in arguing with him, and she knew that.

"I get it, okay?" she added. "And I'm very sorry for ruining your night with this amazing girl. I swear I didn't mean to. I left the pub just so I could come home and cry by myself. So trust me, I didn't want to bother you with this, ok? And I swear to God I didn't want Niall to go back and tell you about it. I didn't want any of this to happen. So I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry."

She dropped her weight on the couch and breathed in, then slowly rubbed her temples and breathed out.

It was the realization of how exhausted she sounded that made Harry stop and pay attention to her for the first time since she'd opened the door. He noticed the lack of energy, the way she covered her face, the way she hunched her body as if she needed to hug herself. As if she needed to protect herself.

It only took one second and one attentive glance for all of his anger to melt away, and a big wave of guilt crashed into him.

Unfortunately, though, Harry didn't know how to handle that situation. It was a new dynamic between them, a new path for a friendship that wasn't supposed to take that turn. So he continued justifying himself, although much more carefully than before.

"It took me by surprise, y'know? That's all. I was—" He shut his mouth and shook his head, exhaling before going back to explaining himself. "It doesn't matter. The thing is that Niall just came out of nowhere, so mad at me, Isy… I couldn't understand what was going on, and then he was blaming me for breaking your heart and talking about how you—saying that you have—I mean—That you have—"

"That I have, what?" With closed eyes, she dug her fingertips into her forehead, then shrugged. "Just say it, Harry, c'mon."

He frowned, unable to move.

"Is it true? Do you?"

"Again, what?" Letting out a hollow laugh, she dropped her hands down to her lap and looked at him. "You have to at least say it."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because it doesn't make sense! It— it can't be true. We are just friends and—"

"Oh, c'mon Harry!" She stood up, taking a step forward if only to make sure he wouldn't ignore her next words. "We're not just friends and you fucking know it."

"No! I don't—I mean, yes. Yes we are. We're just friends, Isy!"

"Just friends? Really?"

"Yes!"

"Well…" She shrugged, and looked away. "Not to me then, I'm sorry."

Harry took a step back and widened his eyes. And then, he blinked, pulling his hair back with one hand and resting the other on his hip before glancing down at his own feet.

Maisy sighed. A tiny part of her wanted to grab him by his shoulders, shake him up, and yell at him to wake up. Just shout at him. Prove him wrong.

However, she had no more energy to fight him. Not about that, at least. Her body felt too heavy to even move and her heart had changed into a slow thud inside her numb chest. Harry was her favorite person, but at that moment all she wanted was to be alone. It wasn't her intention to make him angry, let alone disappoint him, and knowing that she'd put them both in that situation only made her feel even more ashamed.

So she decided to be honest. Too exhausted to argue, she decided to stop fighting or running away and just say what she'd been thinking since she'd left the pub earlier that night.

"Look… I don't think we're just friends, Haz. I'm just friends with Niall. I've known him for over 10 years and I've never kissed him. God, I never even thought about kissing him. He slept over plenty of times, but he never asked to cuddle with me, and he never held me the way that you do. Last week I… I kissed you and you kissed me back, Harry. And maybe I got it wrong, but… But you really made me feel like you fucking wanted to, y'know? We weren't drunk, we kissed for hours and we didn't even have sex. We kissed and then you stayed and you fell asleep with your arms around me. And then you woke up and you—" Her voice cracked, and she knew she needed to take a deep breath if she wanted to continue. Maybe reliving every single detail was too much, maybe she didn't need to do that. "Anyway, no, ok? No. You and me, Harry? We're not just friends, and even if you can't say it out loud or believe it's true, I do have feelings for you. I've had feelings for you for a long time now and to be honest, yeah, you really… I'm sorry but you really broke my heart tonight."

Even with all the chatter around him, Harry caught the soft thump of someone's boots across the busy studio. It was like his mind was searching for the perfect excuse to get distracted, because he instantly dropped the task he was supposed to be doing and focused on the sound, instead. From there on, every noise caught his attention — Nina's fingers tapping against the keyboard, Johnny's phone ringing, Jenny and Patrick laughing as they filled their mugs with coffee, Maria and Julia whispering by the windows.

Despite not seeing anyone, he somehow kept up with everyone's movements and conversations. Meanwhile, displayed on the screen in front of him, the design he was supposed to be working on since he'd arrived that morning—and that he was also supposed to deliver to a client in less than thirty-six hours—remained untouched.

"You look like shit," Niall's voice pointed out from behind him, and Harry stiffened on his seat.

He knew Niall had been right behind him all along. Of course he knew. It wasn't as if he could've expected anything differently. After all, that's how the two had met: they'd joined the agency on the same day and were assigned to sit back to back from each other, then the rest was history.

Since then, that monday was the first day in over five years they still hadn't said even one word to each other. It was weird, to be honest, but they were both still resentful from the events of last friday's night, and too stubborn to handle the situation any differently.

So, yeah. To sum it up, Harry knew Niall had been there all along, but he wasn't expecting to engage in a conversation with him. Not yet. Not for another couple of days.

Still, Harry cleared his throat, and shrugged.

"Yeah, well…" he said, keeping his eyes on the screen. "I feel like shit."

Niall made a sound that resembled a hum, but then got quiet. And Harry wasn't sure of what he could say next, or if there was anything to say at all, so he breathed in and waited in silence.

No matter how confusing the latest events of his life had been, if there was one thing Harry was still sure of, it was that Niall and Maisy cared about each other like brother and sister. And that whilst he'd been easily welcomed into the group by the two of them, their friendship already lasted for over a decade, so it would always come first. And he was ok with that, he understood that. Niall knew Maisy in a different way than Harry did, and she would tell Niall things that she would never talk to him about, so there was no point in competing with them. It wasn't even something he would ever try to do, to be honest.

"So…" Niall cleared his throat. "You went to Isy's."

And there it was.

Harry closed his eyes.

See? Of course Niall already knew about that.

Sure, it didn't bother him, and it also wasn't a surprise, but… What was he supposed to say? He didn't even think Niall would want to talk to him, so what was he supposed to expect out of that conversation? As far as Harry knew, he had broken Maisy's heart and she wasn't talking to him anymore. And that was it. He had fucked everything up — before he even knew there was something to fuck up in the first place.

Bloody hell.

Harry sighed, then glanced at the screen in front of him.

To be completely honest, he had spent the last 48 hours trying to understand what the hell had happened, wincing every time he remembered Maisy's words and shuddering every time he thought about how he'd left her crying by herself on the couch.

Those same 48 hours had made him feel all over the place, everywhere and yet nowhere at the same time. He was all by himself the entire weekend, locked at home, having to occupy his mind with random, meaningless and stupid little things so he wouldn't drown in his own thoughts. Surely, it wasn't the first time they hadn't seen or talked to each other for a couple of days — although it was something rare to happen — but it was the way they'd left things that kept tormenting him.

He still had so many questions, because he needed so many answers. He wanted to know more about what had happened, about what had changed, or when, or why…

And he was also desperate to know what would happen next, because… Well… What was he even supposed to do after all that?

Harry rolled his chair around, getting himself out of his own spiraling thinking.

Niall was already facing him, glaring at him. He sat with his arms crossed over his chest and his legs extended forward, clenching his jaw and flaring his nostrils as if he was trying to set Harry on fire.

Clearly, it was safe to say Niall was still mad at him. And Harry didn't blame him — he was mad at himself, too.

He rolled his shoulders, and finally asked, "Did she tell you about it?"

Niall shrugged once. Briefly and quickly. "Kinda."

Harry nodded. He took one of his hands out of the pocket of his jumper and lifted it to the back of his neck, then massaged some of the stiffness away. There were so many things he wanted to ask, it was hard to choose where to start. He also didn't want to say the wrong thing and have Niall trying to physically fight him again. Things were already bad enough as they were, there was no need to add more drama into it.

Moving his hand from his neck to his face, he dragged his eyes to the floor and pinched his lip, pulling the skin as he voiced the next question.

"When did you see her?"

"Yesterday."

Harry nodded again, eyes still on the floor and fingers still on his bottom lip.

Across from him, Niall narrowed his eyes. He wasn't just messing around when he'd said Harry looked like shit. A beanie hid his hair, his shoulders were rigid, he hadn't shaved, his jaw was clenched, and he kept constantly squeezing his eyebrows together. Also, judging by the bags under his eyes, he didn't seem to be sleeping that well — or he didn't seem to be sleeping at all.

Should he be worried? He'd checked on Maisy a lot, but maybe he should've checked on Harry as well, because maybe this whole situation had also messed him up, even if for different reasons. Maybe Harry also needed a friend.

Shit.

Niall took a deep breath and uncrossed his arms, letting his shoulders fall as he straightened his back. "You honestly look like shit mate, did you sleep at all this weekend?"

Harry finally glanced over, shaking his head.

"I'm just…" He pressed his lips together, scratching his jaw before letting both of his hands fall on his lap. "She hasn't been answering any of my calls."

Niall lifted then dropped his eyebrows, nodding as if he knew exactly what Harry was talking about.

"Yeah, well…" He shrugged. "I don't think she will, to be honest."

Harry nodded, and looked away.

He probably deserved that.

— — — — —

"Thanks," Harry said to the waitress as she placed two beers and some fries on the table.

As soon as she walked away, he grabbed a bottle and took a sip, giving himself a few more seconds before asking the question he really wanted to ask.

"How is she?"

Niall's hand was full of fries, midway to his mouth, and Harry didn't miss the way he froze for one second before looking at him and engulfing them. He didn't finish eating before answering, mumbling the words as he chewed, "She's hurt. And you know how she gets when she's hurt."

"Fuck." Harry ran his fingers through his hair, pulling his head back and sighing to the ceiling. It killed him to know he'd been the one to make Maisy suffer, it killed him that she didn't let him hold her when she cried, and it killed him how she begged him to leave her alone because his presence was only making it worse. "I didn't mean to hurt her. I would never mean that."

Niall scoffed, and Harry glanced down again. He found his friend eating fries absently, as if he wasn't part of the conversation anymore. Scanning them carefully before picking one and shoving it into his mouth. And then another one.

Harry frowned. "What? You know I didn't mean to hurt her, right?"

Niall peeked at him through the corner of his eyes.

"Well…" He tilted his head from side to side, then shifted on his seat and rubbed his hands together, cleaning up the salt. "Look, you didn't mean it. Fine. But I don't think you worried about it either, alright? I mean, you walked to the bar to get Isy a drink and didn't come back 'cause you wanted to hook up with some random chick. Which, by the way, was already a problem in the first place 'cause she had to watch you flirting around. But then, after I told you she has feelings for you, you went back to hers and blamed her for not getting laid? That's fucked up man, c'mon."

"She told you I blamed her for not getting laid?"

Niall lifted his eyebrows. "Didn't you?"

"I—I don't know, I was just freaking out. You saw when I left the pub, I wasn't even thinking."

"Clearly," Niall snickered, then looked around the pub as he took a deep breath. "Look, she didn't want to say anything 'cause she didn't want to lose your friendship… And, yeah, maybe part of this mess it's on me, 'cause… Well, 'cause I told you about it, alright? But… Mate… Look, you didn't see how hurt she was when she saw you at the bar, ok? You didn't think about her, and that really, really pissed me off."

Rubbing his jaw, Harry rolled his neck and sighed. It was true, Harry didn't see how much it hurt Maisy to see him at the bar. He actually didn't even know Maisy was watching as the girl approached him, but even if he did, he wouldn't have thought it was something that would hurt her. Sure, she would probably tease him for ditching them, or pinch him for leaving her waiting for her drink… But feeling hurt? As far as he knew, that wasn't even an alternative.

"I don't… I don't get it." He shrugged. "It's not like she never saw me with a girl before. I mean, I've been single since we met, and that's over five years, man. She's the one who had a boyfriend for two fucking years and you never saw me say a word about it."

"Huh," Niall scoffed, curving his lips up as he took his beer to his mouth. He took a sip, then murmured behind the bottle, "I had no idea Maisy having a boyfriend bothered you."

Harry tilted his own bottle, pointing at him. "That's not what I said. My point is, she knows I hook up every now and then. We always talked about it, and it was never a problem before."

Rolling his eyes, Niall sighed. Harry was really getting on his nerves with those stupid doubts.

"Well, obviously, this time was different."

"But why? Why was it different this time? What changed?"

"What changed?" Niall laughed, humorlessly and unbelievably, banging his beer against the table and inching forward. He wouldn't expect a kiss to mean something when it came to random hook ups, but he also wouldn't expect Harry to treat Maisy like a random hook up. Harry knew her better than that. And Maisy deserved better than that. Harry couldn't just kiss her and act as if it hadn't happened. He just couldn't. Niall wouldn't allow that. "Are you fucking kidding me?! Or are you just that stupid?!"

"Wha—"

"You two fucking kissed, mate! C'mon!"

"I—"

"You do remember that, right?"

Harry scoffed. "Of course I remember!"

"Of course you remember." Niall rolled his eyes and shook his head, chuckling at how dense his friend could be. "Then what? Are you trying to pretend it didn't happen?"

Harry shook his head and stared down at his hands, one of them holding the bottle as the other played with the sticker on it. Of course he wasn't trying to pretend their kiss hadn't happened. He just didn't think it was something that would happen between them, and when it did, he didn't think it would go further than that. He didn't think Maisy saw him that way. Maybe at first, years ago, when they'd just met. But once he realized she'd put him in the friendzone, he didn't think he would ever get out of there. And he'd made peace with that. He put the idea away and locked it inside his mind. But he also wasn't sure if any of that made sense, and he didn't want to say something that would make it seem as if he didn't care about Maisy. Because he did. He cared about her way too much to lose her.

"I'm not—" Shit. How was he supposed to explain what was going through his mind? "I'm not trying to pretend it didn't happen, that's—that's not it."

"Then what is it?"

"I don't know." He shrugged, feeling a sour taste in his mouth. "I guess… I guess I just didn't think she was expecting something different from me, that's all."

The pause that followed his answer was filled with tension. Harry kept fidgeting with the bottle in his hand, taking deep breaths to clear out his mind. Or perhaps to relieve the memories of that day. Trying to understand why it should've been so obvious to him that Maisy expected more out of them when she didn't say anything about it. Why should've been so obvious to him, when she didn't act any differently the next morning? Why should've been so obvious to him, when she'd barely texted him back the next day? And why should've been so obvious to him if, when he'd invited her to go out for a drink, she'd been the one to suggest that Niall tagged along?

"Anyway…" Niall said, then put more fries inside his mouth and chewed. After a second, he swallowed, then added, "Everything would've probably been just fine if you hadn't freaked out on her. That was really stupid."

"Right." Harry raised an eyebrow, eying his friend from across the table. "Can you blame me, though? You shoved me over those tables and tried to punch me, mate! Out of nowhere. Did you really need to be so fucking dramatic?"

Niall shifted on his seat, chuckling under his breath as he scratched his neck. "Yeah, sorry 'bout that… I told ya, I was really pissed off."

Harry's lips curved into a smile. He shook his head, lifting his beer and finishing the liquid inside while Niall ate more fries.

The tension between them had faded off, so although their conversation died for a couple minutes, things didn't feel awkward anymore. Still, there were a million things rushing through Harry's mind. Because, truly, what the hell was he supposed to do now? He didn't want to lose Maisy. He really didn't. But she wasn't texting him back, nor answering any of his calls, and he didn't want to be invasive and just show up at her door. He wanted to fix things, not make them worse.

So, playing with the odds, Harry decided to break off the silence and rip off the band-aid that was covering his deepest dilemma.

"What do I do now?"

Niall gulped the fries down, then drummed his fingers on the table and shrugged. "Do you have feelings for her?"

Harry looked away. Did he? Didn't he? How was he supposed to know that? It was a very simple and obvious question, and whereas it didn't surprise him, he wasn't actually expecting to answer it. He didn't know how to, to be honest.

"Can't help you if you don't know what you want, mate," Niall said. "You already know she has feelings for you, so I don't know what you expect me to say… 'Cause either you have feelings for her and go for it, or you don't and you let her go. But there's no way you can pretend nothing happened."

"No, I know that."

"Good. So figure out what you're feeling, and do something about it."

Three weeks later, Maisy saw him again.

Lucie had offered to leave him out of her birthday celebrations, but to be honest Maisy didn't think it was fair to shut him off from his entire group of friends. Even if the only reason why he knew them was because she and Niall had introduced him in the first place.

So there she was, at a gorgeous rooftop club, on a Saturday night, wearing a black top and white pants that she secretly hoped would blow Harry's mind. Showing off as much cleavage as she could, and pairing the high-waist with heels to highlight her curves around her hips. Mingling with the girls, and avoiding Max's hints for a second date. Laughing and chatting with a drink in her hand, while peering at the door and waiting for him to arrive.

It was kind of agonizing, to be honest. And if she didn't know he was giving Niall a ride to the party, she would've already given up by then.

But then she finished her second drink, went to the restroom, and as she made it back to the table, she finally saw them. Harry and Niall. Walking up the stairs that led to the terrace. Half an hour late, and the last ones to arrive.

Knowing it would take them a minute or two to reach the group, Maisy took a step to the side and hid behind Callie, placing a hand on her lower back and encouraging her not to move.

"What's up?" Callie asked, turning her head to the side.

Peering over her friend's shoulder, Maisy shook her head and whispered, "Nothing. He's here."

"Hmmm…" Callie nodded, then took a sip of her drink. "So what? You are moving on, remember? Going out on dates with Max and all that?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Maisy rolled her eyes, giving a dismissive wave of her hand. "I just wanna look at him for one second, then I'll move on… I mean, just look at him, Callie… He's hot!"

Callie chuckled and shook her head, and although Maisy couldn't see her, she could imagine her rolling her eyes at those words. Not because she didn't think Harry was handsome, but because she'd already made up her mind about not supporting her feelings for him anymore. Not after seeing how much he'd hurt her. Still, she didn't say anything else, going back to whatever conversation she was having before and letting Maisy enjoy the view.

So that's exactly what she did.

Harry walked with his head low, following Niall's lead and mumbling "excuse me" and "sorry" every time he had to squeeze between bodies. He was wearing her favorite shirt, a custom made checked one he'd gotten last Christmas from his stylist sister, and Maisy bit her lip. He'd left it unbuttoned and layered it over a white t-shirt, its neckline so low that she could see the two swallows facing each other on his chest, as long as his usual gold cross necklace. His curls were shorter and all messed up in his head, and if she didn't know him better, she would've thought he hadn't even remembered to comb his hair after showering. But that wasn't the case, and she was sure it was exactly the look he was going for — it had always killed her how good he looked like that.

"Niall, Harry, over here!" Diana raised her arm and waved her hand, bursting Maisy's tiny bubble.

Moving from behind Callie, Maisy walked to the opposite side of the table and took a seat next to Josh. She smiled at him and Eileen, who had her fingers intertwined with his, and pretended not to see Niall stand right next to Lucie and raise his arms up in the air, or how cheers were thrown around them when they started greeting everyone.

"You ok?" Eileen asked, leaning forward to look at her.

"Of course." Maisy smiled, and nodded.

Was she, though?

Their voices were mixed up with music, laughter and glasses clinking together, but even so she heard Harry's words loud and clear, wishing their mutual friend a happy birthday and thanking her for inviting him. It's been a long time, you definitely look older, he joked, and Maisy had to really force herself to hold back a smile—and maybe even some tears.

It hurt to see him like that—so comfortable, so cute, so friendly, and so hot—knowing she wouldn't be able to touch him like she wished to. Above and beyond, it hurt not being able to sit next to him and just chat, make him laugh, and stare into his green eyes while listening to his deep and slow voice.

She didn't know how to act in front of him anymore, which really bothered her.

Before their fight, or whatever that had been, being friends with Harry had never been difficult, and her feelings for him had never felt like a problem, so being incapable of at least saying 'hello' to him made her feel immature and stupid. There was a weight on her shoulders pressuring her to quickly find a way to handle the situation, and a voice shouting at her that she was a 28 years-old woman who by now had to know how to remain friends and move on.

Honestly, though, why did she let this happen? Why did she kiss him? Why did she tell Niall about the kiss? Why did she have to go and ruin everything?

"You think you'll talk tonight?"

Maisy shrugged. She didn't have to ask Eileen what she meant by that. All of her friends knew about what had happened that Friday night, and they'd all shown different reactions to it. In this case, Eileen was still very supportive of her feelings for Harry, and a firm believer that their friendship was too important and deep to let it die so easily after one mistake.

"I don't think so," she said, focusing on her friend's eyes to avoid the fact that, had it been a month before, she would've already been wrapped around his arms. "What's there to talk, anyway?"

"What if he wants to apologize?"

"Who wants to apologize?" Josh asked, sitting in between the two girls.

"No one—"

"Harry."

"Eileen!"

"Oops!" Eileen covered her mouth with one hand and widened her eyes. "Sorry! Sorry! He won't tell anyone. I promise."

Josh frowned. "Couldn't even if I tried."

Maisy sighed. "It's fine. I just—"

"Hey guys…" Harry's deep voice interrupted their conversation, and they all shut their mouths.

Maisy held her breath and turned her head, tilting her chin up to look at his face. Harry stood right across from her with a soft smile on his face, hunching over the short table to give Eileen a kiss on the cheek and Josh a handshake. Her pulse raced, and her stomach fluttered. Oh God. She couldn't do that. She just… She couldn't.

She really couldn't.

It was too much.

So when he seemed to finally turn his head towards her, her eyes just darted to the other side, and she was up from her seat.

"Niall!" she shouted, her mouth curving into a wide smile as she raised her arm and waved to get her best friend's attention. "Hii!"

And before she knew it, she was off the table and away from him.

— — — — —

The music was louder than before, everyone seemed too drunk and sweaty, and it was definitely time for her to leave. But Maisy was having fun for the first time in three weeks, and she didn't want that feeling to end. She had cried too much, for too many days, and a night of laughter and dancing with her friends was all she needed to step out of that sadness.

Or, well, that's what she'd thought, at least.

Because, see? Maisy was having fun. Until, out of nowhere, her friends decided to start discussing her (nonexistent) lovelife. All over again.

"Horannnnn! C'mere!"

Callie waved, and Maisy dropped her head back.

"Nooooo!" she cried. "Stop!"

"Ladies," Niall said with a huge grin on his face, standing between Callie and Maisy and throwing one arm around each one. "What's the shouting all about?"

"Well…" Eileen said, wiggling her eyebrows and hiding a smirk behind the rim of her drink. "We want to know what's up with Harry."

"What? Why? What did he do now?" Niall dropped Callie and turned towards Maisy, placing both hands on her shoulders and forcing her to look at him. "Tell me and I'll kick his ass."

"Nothing!"

She really wanted them to stop. How was she supposed to stop thinking about Harry, if people kept constantly bringing him up?

"Mhm, nothing." Callie said. "He's just been fucking ogling her the entire night, that's all."

"Ohhh, that," Niall chuckled, throwing his arm around Maisy's shoulders one more time and then pulling her closer for half-a-hug. "Yeah, I know."

Lucie and Eileen squeaked, the first one quickly demanding an explanation, "What do you mean, yeah, I know?"

Maisy looked away.

Niall frowned. "Just… Yeah, I know he's been watching her?"

"Okay, but why is he watching her?"

He shrugged. "I guess he's just so used to it that he doesn't even notice, I don't know. You both should talk, though," —he tapped Maisy's shoulder— "he's honestly been miserable at work."

"And who's fault is that? Huh?" Callie straightened her back, crossing her arms on her chest. "Besides, he's too late, we're rooting for Max now."

"Uh, excuse me?" Eileen scoffed. "Honey, there's no way I'm rooting for Max. I'm totally team Harry."

"Yeah, I don't know," Lucie said. "I mean, I always felt like Maisy and Harry were end game, y'know?"

"Girls—"

"But he was such a dick to her!"

"Once, Callie. It was one questionable moment in five years, ok?"

"Yeahh! He's such a sweetheart. I think he deserves the benefit of the doubt."

"Ladies, hey—"

"Well, I don't. Max stepped up in one week and did something Harry couldn't in five years. That's the kind of man I want for my friend."

"Just let them," Maisy whispered, watching the way her three best friends argued about something that had nothing to do with them. And the exact topic she'd been trying to avoid the entire night. She loved them, she knew they meant well, and she knew they were all drunk, but they were definitely ruining the end of her night. She didn't want to talk about Max, and she didn't want to think about Harry. She just wanted to have fun. Why couldn't her friends let her have fun?

"Are you ok?" Niall asked, directly in Maisy's ear, then squeezed her shoulder.

"Mhm." She scoffed, and tilted her chin towards her friends. "I'm pretty sure if I walk out of here right now, they won't even notice."

"Wanna sit and chat for a bit?"

"Nahh…" She shook her head, then looked around, checking out the different groups of people surrounding them. There was a beat of silence between them, loudly filled by the music, and then she added, "I know he's been watching me."

Niall snorted. "Don't we all? Guy doesn't know how to be subtle."

Maisy's lips curled into a smile, and she looked down at her feet. "It doesn't matter, tho. He told me we're just friends, so… I don't know… I don't want to look too much into it."

"Right. Well…" Niall sighed. By then, he'd already chatted with Harry for weeks, till the point where it felt there was nothing left to talk about. So he knew his friend had fucked up things, but he also knew how deeply he regretted it. If things had happened in a different setting, under different circumstances, Harry's reaction would've been also different. Which is why he'd been feeling so guilty—he'd been the one to throw Harry off, when he knew both of them had more than a few beers in their system. And although he couldn't go back in time and change Harry's actions and words, he could try to make them talk again.

"Y'know," he started, and then took a pause to think about his next words. "When we talked at work, he told me that your kiss was just a kiss. So I asked if he had ever kissed Callie, or Lucie, or Eileen, right? And, like, he just went in shock, as if what I was saying was fucking absurd."

Maisy frowned. "I'm not following, Ni. I'm not drunk, but I'm definitely not sober enough to psychoanalyze stuff."

Niall chuckled, shaking his head and squeezing her shoulder. "My bad. What I mean is, he didn't think kissing you was absurd, but he thought kissing the other girls was, y'know? I guess he thought that it was so normal that it didn't mean anything."

"That doesn't make sense," Maisy laughed bitterly, shaking her head and taking a step back to look into Niall's eyes as she left her unfiltered thoughts out of her mind. "I don't want my kiss to feel normal, Ni, c'mon. If he didn't feel anything, if he didn't think about doing it again or, I don't know… If it didn't cross his mind even once, then why will I think he wants me? I hate that we're supposed to believe men feel something for us even when they don't say it, you know? Or that we're supposed to believe they love us when they say they hate us. If he can flirt with other girls and let them know he wants them, then why can't he do the same for me? I just—I can't be with someone who won't let me know they want me, okay? I can't. And I won't."

"You're right, yeah, sorry." Niall lowered his head and nodded, knowing she had a point. Maisy shouldn't wait around just because Harry wasn't ready to deal with his feelings, she had already talked to him about that and explained her point of view, and he understood where she was coming from. It wasn't Maisy who had to step up and do something about her feelings. Not anymore. Now Harry was the one who had to let her know how he felt. "'M sorry, Isy."

Maisy sighed, grabbed his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. "I know. You're fine. Thanks for always listening."

"Anytime, love." He pulled her by the neck and kissed the side of her head, then let her go. "Look at that, now they walked away and we didn't even notice."

She looked around and chuckled, noticing her friends weren't near them anymore. She glanced back to their tables, then, where she found them dancing with the boys. Josh was there. Max was there. Franklin, Nick and Kevin were there. Ryan was there. And even Tommy had shown up again—attached to a girl Maisy had never seen before. Of course, since he stood next to her, Niall was missing. But besides him, the only one who wasn't around the table was… Harry.

And to be honest the thought shouldn't have crossed her mind. It shouldn't. And even when it already had, she shouldn't have looked around for him, because deep down she already knew where she would find him and what she would see, and she didn't want to go through that again.

It had been such a fun night, she'd felt so good again.

She didn't want to look for him.

And yet…

She did.

She let her eyes wander and stop right where he was, at the bar, wearing her favorite shirt.

Again, she should've looked away, but she didn't, because she wanted to know who he was talking to, who was standing in front of him while she only could see his back.

And if she had listened to all of those warnings voiced in her head, if she hadn't waited for him to move a little bit, and if she hadn't waited for the person in front of him to tilt their head to the side, she wouldn't have felt the air getting knocked out of her. Because she wouldn't have seen him there, talking again with that amazing girl from three weeks ago — the girl he was talking to when her own feelings ruined everything for him, and for them.

"C'mon… C'mon…" Maisy mumbled to herself. Her body shivered while she stared at her phone, watching as the Uber app tried to find her a driver, and she crossed one arm over her stomach.

She knew she should've worn a blazer instead of prioritizing not clashing her outfit. Or at least she should've been still inside, where it was warm and she could sit down — although that wasn't really an option, because it would've ruined her plans of sneaking out without Callie noticing.

She tapped her foot against the floor, glaring at her phone. It wasn't supposed to be taking this long, it wasn't supposed to be so hard to find a ride home.

Maybe she should just walk. She wasn't that far away from home…

No. Of course she shouldn't just walk. She wasn't stupid to walk by herself on a Saturday night, dressed like that, after having a few drinks.

Her phone buzzed, the app finally notifying she had a new driver. Leaning against the wall, Maisy sighed. Adam was only thirteen minutes away. Not as fast as she would've liked, but still better than nothing.

Taking in her surroundings, she blocked her phone and kept it tight between her fingers, then placed her arm on top of the other one. Hugging herself. Protecting herself from the coldness. And maybe even from the sadness.

The street was almost empty, only a couple of people standing on the sidewalk just like her, probably waiting to go home. And except for two or three cars rushing by here and there, there were no signs of anyone else driving around the city.

She looked down, and unlocked her phone.

Adam was currently twenty minutes away.

"You've got to be bloody kidding me," she muttered.

"Aha! There you are!"

Maisy moved her eyes up and to the side.

Niall beamed at her, one arm stretched out to keep the front door open.

"Max was just asking about you."

He looked inside the bar for a moment, then back at her, taking a step closer and letting his hand fall to his side. As he walked, though, the door remained open, until Harry walked through it and let it close behind him.

Maisy's lungs froze, and her heart thumped inside her chest.

"Are you leaving?" Niall asked.

Harry's eyes darted to her, and Maisy's eyes darted to Niall.

"Uh, yeah…" She nodded, blocking her phone and holding it tightly into a fist while she squeezed her crossed arms around her body. "I'm just waiting for my Uber."

"Huh." Niall flinched his head back, slightly wrinkling his brows. "Well, just so you know, Max is under the impression he is taking you home…"

Maisy sighed, and rolled her eyes. Unlike Callie, who'd been thrilled about Maisy going out with her boyfriend's best friend, and who thought Harry didn't deserve another single second of her time, Niall knew how guilty and conflicted she'd been feeling about going out with one friend just to get over another one. Even if it had been for only one date, and even if she wasn't planning on doing it again. And even if one friend was nothing like the other.

Because, yes, her friendship with Max was nothing compared to her friendship with Harry, but Maisy supposed Max would be what she considered just a friend to be, and she didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings like hers had been hurt.

Although, of course, Max didn't have actual feelings for her, he just fancied her — he fancied her a lot. So badly that he'd spent months waiting for the moment to ask her out. Something Harry had never, ever, cared to do.

Ugh.

"I know," she said, diverting her sight across the street before she gave in to the urge of looking at Harry. "I'm trying to leave before he finds me."

Niall chuckled, and Maisy bit the inside of her cheek to hold back a smile. It was shitty of her, she knew that, but at that moment she was too tired to care. She planned to text both him and Callie as soon as she got home. And she could've (and would've) done that by then already if the damn driver weren't taking so damn long.

"So," Niall said, "you're not going home with Max?"

Maisy shook her head.

"'Cause you don't want to go with him. Right?"

Pulling her eyebrows together, Maisy glanced at him. Was it really necessary for him to word it out like that? She was ready to call him out for asking such a question, when she caught him looking away from her. And then, out of instinct, she followed his line of vision. And before she could even notice and stop herself, she was looking at Harry as well.

Maisy's world stopped turning. All over again.

Different from them, Harry focused on the front door, moving his jaw and parting his lips as he chewed gum. Silent. Distracted. Hands hidden inside his pockets, shoulders slightly up. Unkempt curls pulled back on the top of his head, clearly getting stuck there after he'd ran his hand through them.

Maisy's belly fluttered. Everything about him was pretty, no wonder why he walked around so confident all the time. As if he owned the space.

She'd always found herself physically attracted to him, but since kissing him it seemed as if she couldn't hold herself anymore. And the fact that she knew so much about him only made it worse. Because there he was, wearing a shirt she loved so much that she'd borrowed it from him multiple times. And a shirt that, if things hadn't changed so much, and if their friendship hadn't been ruined by her stupid feelings, she knew she would've been wearing it right then and there—and then she wouldn't have been feeling so cold.

Damn.

What was he thinking? What was he looking at? Was he paying any attention to their conversation? Was he waiting for someone? Oh God. Was he waiting for… For that girl? Was she going to be forced to watch them leave together? Go home together? Oh no.

No, no, no.

Please, no.

Where the hell was Adam?

Maisy glanced at her phone just as it buzzed in her hand. She read the notification, dropping her shoulders and closing her eyes.

"C'mon," she murmured, taking her free hand up to her face and pinching her forehead. "Fuck."

She was so tired. All the fun she'd had with her friends came to an end the moment she saw Harry and that girl talking, and she didn't deserve to have to stand there and watch even more of that. Or to have to hide from her friends. Or to have to stand by herself on a cold night in the middle of the street. All she wanted was to go home, hide under the blankets, and cry.

"Isy, hey," Niall called, his voice much softer and closer than before. He stood next to her with worry in his eyes, grabbing her shoulder and letting go of whatever he was saying before. "What's wrong?"

Maisy shook her head, taking her hand away from her face and wiping a tear from under her eye. No more crying Maisy. No more crying.

"Nothing… Just…" She blinked, then stared at her phone. "My uber. He canceled."

"Ok…" Niall tilted his head, trying to get her attention. Or maybe trying to get a look at her face. Or maybe trying to read her emotions. Or maybe just trying to figure out what the hell was going on. "Can't you just get another one?"

"Well," she muttered, peering at him through the corner of her eyes whilst sliding her thumb across the screen. "I'm not stupid, am I?"

Niall frowned. "No, I—"

"What do you think I've been trying to do for the past twenty minutes?"

"Sorry, I—"

"I can give you a ride," Harry said.

Both Maisy and Niall jolted, then turned their heads to look at him. Although he kept his distance, Harry had gotten noticeably closer as well, standing only a few inches behind his friend. Niall seemed to notice that, too, taking a step aside and dropping Maisy's shoulder as he turned to give him some space.

And then, as Harry fixed his forest-green eyes into hers, and as Maisy kept her head turned to the side and stared back at him, the entire world seemed to — once again — stop around her. There was nothing but empty and silent distance standing between them, and every nerve in her body seemed to tingle. Desperate to run towards him. Desperate to say yes and let him not only take her home but also make her a cup of tea before going to bed. Desperate to let him wrap his arms around her and fall asleep breathing into her neck as if that was something just friends normally did.

She squeezed her phone between her fingers, tightly, and made sure to hold as much air as possible in her lungs. Because she truly missed him. She missed being his friend, she missed talking to him, she missed answering his calls. She missed making him laugh, and she missed feeling silly next to him. She missed being able to be near him whenever she wanted to, and she missed hugging him just because she could.

But she also really wanted him. And although she had always wanted him, now it was definitely worse. Almost unbearable. Because now, as she looked at his pinkish and soft lips, she also missed feeling them against the curve of her neck. And as she admired his growing facial hair, she also missed feeling the scratchiness under the palm of her hands as she cradled his cheeks and kissed the hell out of him. And as her body quivered under the intensity of his green gaze, she missed the tingling between her legs caused by the strong grip of his manly hands.

Maisy hadn't been able to taste all of him, but she'd tasted enough to be scarred for the rest of her life. And it hurt to know he didn't want her back. It really did.

"Shit," Niall cursed, then coughed.

Maisy blinked, finally breaking away from the spell Harry had put her under and facing forward, where her friend was supposed to be. When she didn't find him, though, she straightened up and stepped away from the wall, scanning around the street.

"Where—"

"I forgot my jacket!" Niall shouted.

Following his voice, she got a glimpse of him behind Harry, by the front door, already taking a step into the club.

"Be right back guys!"

And just like that the door closed, and there was nobody else around.

Nobody but her.

And him.

Nobody but them.

Emptiness dropped in the pit of her stomach, and her chest tightened.

Shit.

She took a deep breath in, folding her arms and rubbing her forearm with her free hand. She didn't know where to look. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know what to say. Her heart was racing, and she could feel her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. Was she supposed to just stand there?!

Peeking at him, she could only see his back. Harry stood ahead of her and to her side, facing the door where Niall had just walked through. Frozen. Hands still inside his pockets, but shoulders more relaxed than before.

Second went by as silence completely engulfed them. But then he chuckled, looking down and shaking his head while his shoulders moved up and down.

The sound hit Maisy's brain first, and then it bounced to her chest, suddenly reminding her to breathe again. Her lips curved up, and she licked them before swallowing her feelings down her throat. That was not the time, nor place, to find joy in the sound of his laughter.

Harry turned around, still laughing.

"What?" she asked — although she wasn't expecting to.

"It's just…" He covered his face with one hand, then slid it up his forehead and ran his fingers through his curls. Calming himself down. "Niall."

"Oh…" She furrowed her brows. "Okay?"

"I mean," he added, dropping his hand back down and looking at her. Beaming. Glowing. "He's so fucking stupid. I just remembered he didn't even bring a jacket."

Maisy widened her eyes, then she nodded. "Ohhh…"

Although she didn't want to, she couldn't help but laugh, too. Maybe not out of happiness, but because Niall could be really silly when he wanted to be. And maybe because it was nice that Harry had felt comfortable enough to share that with her. Maybe because finally, after weeks, they were finally sharing a nice moment together.

Although, of course, that didn't erase the fact that things weren't okay between them.

She faced forward, across the street and away from him, shaking her head while her entire body shivered.

"How subtle," she added, placing her folded arms over her stomach and smashing her phone into her side. She still hadn't tried to find another driver, and although she knew she should've, she didn't want to take the risk of having to walk away from him. Not so soon. Not right then.

"Right?"

The smile was obvious in his voice, and Maisy was just so hyper-aware of his every moment. Of every detail. Absorbing way more than she'd ever absorbed before. Feeling him way more than she'd ever felt him before.

And Harry didn't make it easy, because he didn't stop moving. He shuffled on his feet, stepping closer while shoving both hands back into his pockets. He breathed in, then heavily breathed out, taking his time to walk until he was in front of her and she didn't have a choice but to look at him.

He buried his hypnotizing eyes into hers, and Maisy curled her toes inside her boots — desperate to stay grounded and hold her balance.

Harry didn't look happy, he didn't look mad, and he didn't look sad.

He looked honest, he looked available, and he looked familiar.

He looked like her best friend.

And it hurt, because there was nothing Maisy wanted more than to go back to what they were before, but as they both stood like that for a moment — silently watching each other, and silently waiting for each other — she realized that it was something she would never get to have again.

How could she? If she wasn't able to be around him without hiding her feelings anymore? If she wouldn't be able to see him dating someone — falling in love with someone — without feeling betrayed and heartbroken? Maybe she'd misinterpreted his actions before, but now that she knew he didn't feel the same way, it wouldn't be fair to hold it against him. She needed to grow out of her feelings, and in order to do so things needed to change. She wouldn't be able to keep interacting with him like she did before.

"I meant it, you know?" he said, pulling her out of her mind. "About giving you a ride home."

Maisy blinked.

"Thank you," she murmured, shuffling on her feet and shrugging. "I'm just… I don't know if that's a good idea."

Harry nodded. He looked down and between their feet, then back into her eyes.

"Just so you know," he said, leaving all traces of playfulness behind, "I'm not leaving with her."

Maisy pulled her eyebrows together, and it took her another pause until she could open her mouth and ask, "W—what?"

"I know you saw me talking to that girl, the one from that night," he explained, taking a short step towards her, "but nothing happened between me and her. And nothing was going to. I swear."

Maisy blinked.

"Oh, okay."

There was a pause.

A pause in which, against her better judgment, she didn't avoid the intensity of his eyes. And a pause in which, as seconds went by, she was easily consumed by the calmness, the confidence, and the assurance he exuded.

Still, it was hard to figure out what was happening, or where he was trying to get to. She tried to read his expression, tried to understand his emotions, tried to get a sense of his thoughts. But she couldn't. So she asked, "Why?"

Harry slid his tongue between his lips, then tilted his head. "Why?"

"Yeah…" Maisy shrugged. "I mean, you were really into her, so… Why?"

He curled his mouth into a timid smile, breathing out his answer as if he couldn't believe he had to say that out loud, "Isy… I was an asshole and hurt your feelings because I wasn't aware of things, but I would never do that knowing—"

"Oh my—"

"—what I know now and—"

"Stop." She raised her hand, the one still gripping that stupid phone, and Harry closed his mouth. "You don't—" She took a deep breath, putting her thoughts in order. "You don't need to stop yourself just because I have feelings for you."

"No, I know. I—"

"Harry, look," she said, putting her hand down and taking a step back from him. "I never meant for you not to go out with her, ok? Or anyone else, for that matter… I can't stop you from fancying people... So if you want to be with her, I mean, you don't need to stop yourself just… Just because you feel sorry for me, okay?"

He closed his eyes and let out a harsh breath, then dropped his head back and looked at the sky for a moment. He didn't have to say anything for her to know that he was thinking about her words, and that he was taking them in before saying something back to her.

Maybe that's why Maisy didn't rush him. And why she distracted herself by watching the way his throat flexed when he swallowed, and the way he softly moved his jaw as he chewed his gum. His facial hair was always kind of longer on his neck, and also kind of messier — something she tended to forget, because it wasn't really noticeable unless he threw his head back. Just like then.

"I know that," he said, once again pulling her out of her mind. "Sorry."

She blinked, watching with blurry eyes as he rolled his shoulders and fixed his eyes back on hers.

"That came out wrong and it wasn't actually answering your question. I didn't walk away from her because I felt sorry for you. I walked away from her because I didn't want to stay there, because I wasn't—I mean, because I'm not interested."

"Oh…" Maisy barely whispered, his words echoing inside her. Then what… What was he doing? What was she supposed to do with that information? What difference did it make? She breathed out through her nose and licked her lips, squishing her eyebrows together and flinching her head back slightly. "Then why… Why are you telling me this?"

"I don't know. I guess…" he said into her eyes, pausing to close his mouth and chew his gum as he took a tiny step closer to her. "I guess I just want to make sure you don't leave tonight thinking something happened between me and her. Because it didn't, and it won't. Not her, not anyone else."

Speechless and breathless, Maisy remained lost inside his eyes. It was hard to make sense of what he was saying, and it was even harder to understand if he meant something else between the lines. Was he making sure she wouldn't cry when she got home? Was he simply protecting a friend? Or was he hoping for something more?

She shook her head and took a step back. See? She couldn't do that. She couldn't be his friend when she would be constantly hoping for something more to be in between the lines. That wasn't healthy. And it wasn't fair. "I— I can't… I—"

"Wait, no!" He took a step forward and raised one arm, then immediately dropped it back to his side. Closing his hand into a fist and opening it up again, he softened the tone of his voice and pleaded, "I'm sorry. I don't… I don't know what to do or… Or what to say to make things right. I don't want to overstep, but I also don't want you to think I don't care about losing you, because I do. I care so much, Isy… And it's been killing me."

"I hate this," she said, dropping her chin down and hiding her face behind her hands. Everything hurt — her stomach hurt, her chest hurt, her head hurt. "I didn't… I didn't mean for this to happen. I didn't want this to happen."

And then, she cried.

"It wasn't… It wasn't supposed to be like this."

"Gimme that," he murmured, closing off the distance and taking her phone away from her hand—and from her face. Maisy sobbed, and tears fell down, but she also chuckled, because even amidst everything, Harry was still the same friend who would point out how it wasn't his fault that her bags were too small to carry her things, and yet would always end up keeping whatever she needed safe into his pockets anyway.

"I know, ok? I know," he added, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her to fully cry into his chest. "And I'm sorry, ok?" He placed his cheek on the side of her head, speaking into her ear. "I really am. I'm the one who messed everything up and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry for making you cry. And I'm sorry for all the times I made you feel less important than you actually are."

Warmth filled up her body, and she sobbed again, squeezing her eyes shut even tighter while pressing her forehead against her hands, and her hands against his chest.

"There are so many things I should've done differently when it comes to us… I know that. And I'm sorry, ok? I am. I don't want to lose you, Isy. I really want to fix this. Please let me try to fix it."

Maisy breathed out through her nose and nodded, letting her hands fall from her face and throwing her arms around his waist.

"Jesus fucking Christ thanks God," Harry instantly breathed out, smashing her even tighter into him and pushing them both towards the wall.

She blinked her eyes open and chuckled, letting more tears fall down and sniffing while turning her head to the side and pressing her ear against his chest. They both shuffled and stumbled, trying to keep up with their clumsy tiny steps until her back hit the wall. Harry stopped and sighed, and Maisy felt every bit of the relief rushing through him — the way he heavily moved his chest up and down, the way he shivered, the way he squeezed her. It was contagious, and it had her sighing as well. Loosening up all the tension. Melting into him.

"I missed you," he whispered, taking one hand to her head and threading his fingers through her hair.

He stroked her scalp — just like she loved — and Maisy bit her lip, closing her eyes while getting drunk on his cologne. That was exactly where she wanted to be. How she wanted to be. With his heart thumping loudly into her ear, his warmth enveloping her body, his masculine and strong scent filling her lungs.

Sniffing again, she took one hand up to her face and wiped under her nose, exhaling a groan through her mouth. "Ugh… I'm a mess."

"I don't care."

Maisy rolled her eyes, rubbing her cheeks as best as she could while still caged inside his arms. "But I do."

"Shhhh…" He swagged them gently, then grabbed her wrist and took it back around his waist. "Got a lot of fixing to do, I know. But I missed this, so let me enjoy it."

She sighed, holding her own forearms as she rested her arms on his lower back. No matter how hard she tried to be mad at him, she didn't feel like she actually could. Harry had overreacted and hurt her feelings, sure, but it had been the first and only slip in a friendship that had already lasted five years. He was a great guy, and she knew that — of course Maisy knew that. And maybe that is why the words ended up rolling out of her mouth so naturally when she said, "I missed this, too."

"Yeah?" He scratched the back of her head with his short nails, then kissed her hair. "Do you think…" — another kiss, and another one— "Do you think you'll be able to forgive me?"

Hadn't she already?

"I don't…" She cleared her throat, getting rid of the scratchiness from her previous crying. Staring ahead to the empty street, she nuzzled against his chest, then started again. "I don't think it's about forgiveness… I think… I think I just need time."

"Right," Harry murmured, and a moment of silence lingered between them. "Time for what, exactly?"

"It's just… You already know how I feel about you, and I don't think I can be your friend right now."

"Why not?"

"Harry." She rolled her eyes and pulled away, tilting her chin up to look at him while he followed her lead and angled his head down to look at her. He was close — really close — and she had to withdraw her arms from his back to be able to create some more distance between them.

Harry moved, too, letting her go and taking half a step back.

And Maisy hated it.

She wanted to be glued to him all over again.

"Don't make this even harder than it needs to be," she added.

"I'm sorry, I'm not… I'm not trying to make this harder. I just want to understand, that's all."

"Is it really that hard to understand that I can't be your friend when I have feelings for you?"

Harry frowned. "To be honest, yes. Why can't we be friends?"

"Oh my God," she laughed, but mostly because she couldn't believe how dense he was. If what he needed was for her to spell it out to him, then she would, but only because she couldn't handle all the weirdness and the running around circles anymore. "Harry, you're not just a friend to me, ok? And when I say that I have feelings for you, that means that I want you, ok? I want you so much Harry, and I can't stop thinking about it. It's like… It's like I can't pretend that I don't anymore because that's all I think about. All the time. Every time I look at you I can't stop thinking about how much I want to be with you, and every time I see you with a girl I can't stop thinking about how much I wish that was me. And maybe it was fine before, but we kissed and now… Now I just… I just can't, ok? That's why I need some time. Because I can't pretend anymore and I can't—"

"Then don't." He stepped closer again, instantly placing his palms on her cheeks and cradling her face.

Staring into her eyes, Harry was so filled with emotions and so determined to hold her close that her body quivered. And her belly fluttered. And her heart sped up.

Maisy blinked. "What?"

"Don't pretend you don't." he said, not even once faltering his gaze away from hers. "Let me know how much you want me. I wanna know, ok? I want to know how I make you feel. And I want to keep making you feel this way for me. Or more, or better, I don't know. I just… I want all of this with you. I want you, ok?"

With widened eyes, Maisy breathed in and out through her nose. Quickly. Shortly. Desperately. Making her chest go up and down erratically.

"I…"

No more words came out of her brain, and Maisy froze like that. Blinking at him with parted lips and out of breath.

Harry's eyes flicked to her mouth, then traveled back to her eyes. With featherly touches, he brushed his thumbs up and down her cheeks, then bowed closer.

"So don't stay away," he murmured, glancing at her lips once more before closing his eyes and pressing their foreheads together. "Don't take some time. And don't stop thinking about me. Yeah? I didn't react properly the first time, but I love the fact that you have feelings for me. Don't get rid of them, please."

She grabbed his wrists, keeping his touch in place while closing her eyes, too. "Please don't… Don't say those things if you don't mean them."

He shook his head, and his nose nudged hers.

"You know I wouldn't," he said, breathing warmly into her face. "I would never—I want you, Isy. I want you and I want you way more than just a friend."

And just like that first time, back at her place, Maisy knew it was about to happen. It was written all over him, and it burned inside her. It made her tremble—out of excitement, out of nervousness, out of fear, and out of anticipation.

So she squeezed his wrists, and fluttered her eyes open.

"Let's…" She swallowed, aware of the closeness between them. "Let's get out of here."

Still leaning into her forehead with his eyes open, Harry nodded. He took another moment to breathe in deeply, then opened his eyes, too.

"Ok," he said, drawing sweet circles around her cheekbones before dropping his hands off her face. He met her palms in the process, though, and they automatically held each other, intertwining their fingers together while stepping away from the wall. "C'mon, then."

"Niall's going home with Eileen and Josh," Harry said, putting his phone back into his pocket. He threw his arm over Maisy's shoulder and looked side to side, then pulled her closer and guided her to cross the street along with him. "So we're good to go."

Maisy bit her lip and nodded, placing one arm around his waist while holding his hand on her shoulder with the other one.

Harry had told her he'd parked around the corner and further down the street, and although he'd already driven Maisy home many-multiple-hundred-thousands of times, and for many-multiple-hundred-thousands reasons, it was safe to say she'd never felt that much anticipation about being alone inside his car with him.

"By the way," he said, leaning to kiss the top of her head and speaking into her hair, "remind me to get him a bottle of something, yeah? Feel like I owe him big time."

She smiled, turning her head to nuzzle into their touching shoulders as Harry took his free hand to the back of her head and stroked her gently. He chuckled and kissed her hair one more time, then faced forward when she did, and dropped his hand to meet her one on his waist. After that, he didn't say anything, neither pressured her to say something back to him, walking in silence as they both hurried to reach their destination.

It was weird, the apparent sudden need they had to be close to each other. To touch each other. Hands grabbing hands, arms giving hugs, sides touching sides. As if they needed reassurance of each other's presence. Or as if they wanted to make sure they wouldn't vanish.

It'd started as soon as they'd walked away from the club, when they failed so badly at keeping any distance that they kept constantly stumbling into each other's feet. They eventually found a rhythm and a way to hold each other that suited both of them, but that need to stay close (close, close, close) didn't change as seconds—and then minutes—went by. It didn't change when Harry walked to a trash can to spit his gum, and even less when he took his shirt off and placed it over her cold shoulders. It also didn't change when Harry slowed down to get the keys from his pocket, nor when he opened the door of the passenger side for her to get inside.

"So…" he said, placing his hands on her hips and guiding her to stand between him and the opened door, "Where am I taking you now?"

She placed her hands on his chest, now covered only by his white t-shirt, and tilted her head to look up at him. Harry wanted her. He'd said so, and she didn't think he would ever lie to her—not about something like that, at least. And yet, her mind couldn't stop wondering. So instead of guessing the answer, she decided to openly ask him.

"Do you still mean the things you said?"

Harry nodded. "Every single word."

"About everything? I mean, do you really want me?"

Curling his mouth into a smile, he sneaked his hands under her shirt—his shirt—and slid his arms around her waist, resting them on her lower back and right above the curve of her bum.

"I really, really want you, Isy," he said, straight into her eyes.

"Why? What changed?"

"Nothing changed," he eagerly answered, and then he slowed down a bit. "I think… I just… I don't know."

He dipped his chin down and drew his sight off from her eyes, then shuffled slightly on his feet. "I think I just wasn't able to put two and two together by myself… That's all."

He shrugged, and Maisy bit the insides of her bottom lip.

In five years, she had never pictured a less confident side of him. Harry was the kind of guy that always managed to be proud of himself, and that always found a positive outcome in every situation. All the time. Even in his most embarrassing moments. So it was honestly weird to see him act like that.

At the same time, the prospect of having new things to learn about him felt really nice. And exciting. Something she wouldn't be able to do if she didn't lay all of her cards on the table. Right there and then.

"That day…" she said, pausing to lick her lips and breathe in. Gathering the strength to point out the thing that had hurt her the most. "Harry, that day you really made me feel like I was getting in your way of—"

"Ugh. I know—"

"—being with that girl and—"

"—I know. I'm sorry, 'm sorry."

He grunted and cursed, pulling her closer and hiding on the curve of her neck. And Maisy let him, closing her mouth and listening to whatever he had to say. Just like she had done that other night.

"I'm really sorry," he repeated. "I don't… I don't have any excuses for the way I reacted. I know that. I—Fuck." Pulling away to look into her eyes again, he took one hand off from her back and placed it on her cheek, tenderly but firmly holding her as he kept talking. "It caught me off guard and I… I fucked up, I know. But I would choose you over absolutely anyone and everyone, Isy. Anytime. No doubts."

His words hit deeply inside her, and a warm glow flowed all over her. A joyful glow. As if her body had burst with bright, sparkling, and multicolored bubbles.

So she bit her lip, and twisted the neckline of his t-shirt around her fingers.

It was hard to know what was the right thing to do. Rationally, her mind told her to not make it so easy for him. To give it some time, and see if he was actually telling the truth. If he actually meant it.

On the other hand, despite everything, her heart knew what it wanted. She believed his words, she believed he wouldn't intentionally hurt her, and she believed people deserved the benefit of the doubt. More than anything, she also wanted to believe that if she ever made a mistake, the people that she cared about would give her a second chance. So why couldn't she do the same?

"I know," she said, so softly she wasn't even sure he would be able to hear her. But then Harry brushed his thumb on her cheekbone, acknowledging her words, and she immediately kept going. "And I believe you're sorry. I do. I just… I think I'm scared, or… I don't know. I convinced myself you didn't want to be with me in that way, so… I don't know…" She shook her head. "I don't know."

He nodded, drawing gentle circles on her cheek. "Niall said… He said something about how you don't think I'm attracted to you, is that true?"

Maisy widened her eyes. "Oh my God! Niall told you that?"

"I mean—"

"What else did he say?!"

"Nothing! He just—"

"I'm gonna fucking kill him!"

Harry pursed his lips, and then laughed.

"It's not funny!"

She pinched the exposed skin on his chest, and Harry jolted.

"Ouch!" He looked back at her with both a frown and a smile on his face. "What was that for?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe for yelling at me for talking to Niall instead of talking to you? And then you talking to Niall instead of talking to me?"

"Right… Ok, yes. I can see you have a point there, but in my defense—"

"There's no defense!" She pinched him (again), and Harry jolted (again). He took the hand on her face to rub the new stinging inch of skin on his chest, smiling while she kept lashing out at him. "Can't believe you two, honestly! Dickheads! Gossiping like two little—"

"Ok," he said, taking his index finger to her mouth and pressing it into her lips. "Listen to me, woman."

Maisy narrowed her eyes at him, but she suddenly didn't have anything else to say, so she exhaled heavily through her nose and consented to his demand (albeit silently and annoyingly).

"Good." Staring into her eyes, he slid the pad of his finger side to side, slightly brushing it to her parted lips. "Niall was just calling me out for not letting you know how I feel, ok? That's all."

Harry glanced at her mouth, then switched his index finger with his thumb. The place he both touched and stared at seemed to buzz, and heat bloomed through her cheeks. From then on, no matter how much she tried to keep paying attention to his explanation, she simply couldn't put the information together anymore.

"Told me you didn't think I fancy you," he added, just as entranced with the movement of his thumb as she felt, "and that you couldn't read my mind, so if I wanted things to change…"

He put more pressure to his finger and pushed his way between her lips, bumping into her teeth. "I had to show you."

Intoxicated and absorbed, Maisy bit into his short nail, holding him there.

Harry smirked, and met her eyes once again. "Or something like that…"

It was hard to tell what was going through Maisy's mind, then. Mostly because she couldn't care less about her rational thoughts anymore. She didn't want to think anymore. She didn't want to know about Niall's suggestions—or whatever he said—and she didn't want to hear Harry's apologies anymore. All she wanted was to feel, so that's exactly what she did.

Keeping her eyes fixed on his, she leaned in, then slithered her teeth through his nail, stopping where the skin of his thumb began. His fingertip rested on the tip of her tongue, and her belly quivered and swirled in expectation of his reaction.

To her delight, Harry sank his shoulders and gawked at her. Some new, dazzling determination took over him, and even his eyes seemed to darken as he shifted his arm around her lower back and pulled her closer. Gripping at her side with one hand, he moved his other one and got deeper into her mouth, pressing his thumb in, in, in, until her teeth clamped around his first knuckle.

Maisy molded her lips around his shortest and chubbiest digit, keeping it locked between her tongue and the roof of her mouth. She tasted him softly, running slow circles with her tongue while still watching him. Harry faintly smirked, so much that it was almost undetectable, and she took that as a challenge. Because she wanted more. She wanted more reactions, and she wanted more actions. So she placed both of her hands around his wrist and closed her eyes, then sucked his finger in.

Harry stiffened at first, and then he cursed, breathing out heavily through his mouth while taking a tiny step forward and spreading his other four fingers open on her face.

"Damn, Isy…" he murmured.

The admiration, pride, and approval in his voice cracked something inside her, and a very familiar feeling pulsed through her veins. It made her go all slippery and quivery. And it brought wet heat between her legs.

Bold and fearless, Maisy swirled her tongue and hummed. Making it dirtier than it needed to be. Making it louder. Making it wetter.

And he didn't seem to mind it. If anything, he seemed to enjoy it just as much and encouraged her to go even further, moving his thumb side to side while digging his other four fingers into the skin of her cheek and neck.

It was so good. So unexpected. And so desperate.

To put so much energy into something like sucking a finger. To feel herself going mindless as she tightened his wrist between her hands and brought him closer, then sucked him deeper. Breathing in and out through her nose, then completely forgetting about their surroundings and pushing her head down to fit his whole finger inside. And losing herself as she sucked. And sucked. All over again.

"Jesus Christ," Harry murmured, backing her into the back door of his car, tilting her head up and pulling his thumb off from her mouth. "That's enough."

Everything happened so fast, that before she could even process the information or blink her eyes open, Harry had already pressed his lips to hers in a desperate move.

They first met awkwardly and clumsily, hitting each other's cheeks and chins. But then Harry cradled her jaw and kept her in place, taking the lead and capturing her lips for a much hungrier and experienced kiss.

A soft tingle ran between her legs, and Maisy moaned softly, so softly she barely even noticed it. She dragged her hands up to his shoulders, then to his neck, and to the back of his head. Harry hummed, and she threaded her fingers between his curls and tugged, standing on her tiptoes and parting her lips to take things further. Searching for his tongue while he searched for hers. Tasting each other with the same devotion and effort she had just tasted his thumb. Moving in perfect sync, and making sure to taste every corner and every inch.

Harry dropped his hand from her face to her bum, giving it a rough and forceful squeeze and sucking all the air around them through his nose.

Maisy hummed, holding onto his hair tightly as she rolled her hips forward. Harry smirked into the kiss, then slid his other arm down, filling both of his hands with her ass. He squeezed her again, this time digging his nails into both of her cheeks and pulling her forward while he also stepped closer, and finally fully pressing their hips together.

His growing bulge nudged between her legs, and a gasped moan came out of her throat.

"Fuck," he breathed out, breaking the kiss to roll his hips on hers.

"Oh God…" she sighed, taking the opportunity to drag her wet lips to his jaw. That was so embarrassing. Maisy had to stop. She really had to stop. She needed to stop. They both needed to stop. And yet she couldn't. She didn't want to. Because Harry was getting hard while making out with her. She could feel him pressed against her hips and she didn't want to lose the feeling. She didn't want to step away. So she didn't. She moved her mouth thoughtlessly, instead, savoring as much as she could of him. Feeling his stubble under her tongue, and his scent under her nose.

"Fuck," he murmured, timidly rubbing himself up and down her front. "That's…" He swallowed. "Feels good, baby."

Maisy hummed, mapping kisses from his jaw, to his ear. She tangled her fingers around his curls, holding her weight while speaking softly and as close to him as she could. "Take me home, Haz."

"Mhmm…" Harry nodded, his hair brushing her temple.

She moved back towards his cheek, leaving a wet trail behind while making his mouth her final destination.

"Please?" she asked, then kissed him shortly.

"Sure." He nodded again, leaning in— "Anything you want." —and kissing her again.

Maisy smiled. The way he seemed enraptured by her was cute and sweet, but also extremely arousing. She could only imagine the things they would do under the influence of that dynamic, and she couldn't wait to find out. But the only way she would be able to do all the things she wanted to do was if they weren't standing in the middle of the street, only two blocks and a half away from their friends. So she sucked his bottom lip and pulled away, letting it slide softly between her teeth while stroking his scalp.

"Now," she whispered, watching him stand there, at her mercy, with closed eyes and parted mouth. "Take me home, Harry, please."

He opened his eyes.

"Wha—" He licked his lips, and shook his head. "I mean, yes." Out of breath, he nodded once, and then twice, and then thrice. "Yeah. Ok. Home. Yes."

Maisy giggled. Still caressing the back of his head, she flinched her chin back and pulled away slightly, only to be able to watch him better. "You okay?"

"Dunno. Think 'm high right now."

She frowned, holding herself from laughing any louder than she should. "High?!"

"Mhm. Pretty sure I got high from your kisses."

"Oh my God." Maisy snorted. She placed her hands on his shoulders and shoved him off, but his hands on her ass didn't allow her to put any actual distance between them.

"Think I developed an addiction—"

"Shut up."

"—and your mouth is my drug—"

" — Harry! — "

" — I need more — "

" — You're ridiculous—"

" — Gimme more — "

He kissed her again, and although Maisy couldn't stop laughing at how lame and silly he was, she still kissed him back. He smirked, seemingly proud of her reaction, then moved his large hand to her face and cradled her cheek, leading the way into a much slower and tender pace. His mouth was suddenly gentle, moving carefully while discovering a new side of their relationship. Not a desperate and hungry version, like it'd been up until then, but a smooth and thoughtful one. Made of sweet and calm kisses. Of gentle pecks, and timid tugs. Of wet lips, and honest affection.

Eventually, their eagerness toned down, dissolving into a different kind of longing for each other. Less desperate on one hand, but much more intense on the other.

Harry sighed, then broke off the kiss.

"Let's go," — he pecked her lips one — "then." — two — "Let's go home." — three — "Mine," — four times — "Or yours?"

One last kiss, lingering longer than the others, and Maisy finally blinked her eyes open. Harry's hand was warm on her cheek, and she felt herself needily nuzzling against it. She took a minute to catch her breath, and also to adjust to the dim lights, taking the opportunity to meet his touch with her own hand and turning her face just enough to press a kiss to his palm. Then, she whispered, "Yours… Take me back to yours."

He leaned in to kiss her temple, then brushed his lips on her skin as he spoke. "Back to mine it is, then."

— — — — —

In five years, Harry had already driven Maisy home, to the grocery store, to parties, from parties, to work, from work, to the hospital, to Niall's, and even back to her parents house.

In the process, Maisy had watched him a lot. She had watched him enough to memorize the way he would spread his legs and switch his foot between pedals, the way he would relax into the car seat and blindly shift gears, or the way he would place his elbow by the window and hold the steering wheel with one hand. More than not, she'd admired him secretly, too pent-up to say anything, and too afraid to let him show how much he affected her. Only a few times she had been brave enough to praise him out loud, although usually hiding behind some joke about how much he tried to look cool while driving, and never admitting how deeply attracted to him she actually felt.

That day though, as he drove them back to his apartment, whilst everything seemed to be still the same between them, everything seemed to be just as different and new. Because now, while she watched him turn the steering wheel, she also couldn't stop thinking about what had just happened in the middle of the street. And now, as she watched him flex his arms and shift gears, she also couldn't stop thinking about the feeling that kept dripping out between her legs.

"You're staring," Harry said, stopping at the traffic light. He turned his head to the side and smiled, sliding his now free hand against hers and intertwining their fingers once again.

Biting her lip, Maisy tried her best not to beam at him. It was useless, though, and her mouth ended up curling into the biggest and most genuine grin.

"I am," she laughed, then shrugged. "You look hot when you drive."

Harry widened his eyes, but there was a twinkle behind his gaze that made her feel comfortable about his reaction. As if the shock of her words did nothing but please him.

"Hot?" He squeezed her palm. "You think?"

Maisy nodded.

"I do, yeah… It's just… Hard to look away."

"Hmm…" Slowly, he let go of her hand, then placed his palm on her thigh, spreading his fingers open and digging them slightly into her flesh. "Keep looking, then."

Heat spread under her skin, and goosebumps rose all over. Harry's hand was large and heavy, and it covered so much of her leg that it was hard not to pay attention to it, or to ignore how close it was to a place she didn't think he would ever actually be. And yet a place that he had teased just minutes earlier. A place that he had rolled and pressed himself against. A place that he had fully woken up that night.

And judging by the way he grasped her in that exact moment, and by the way he had touched her earlier—so thirsty to squeeze and press her closer—Maisy knew he would be good at… Everything. She knew he would be the one to match the expectations no other guy had been able to match up until then. And she knew that he would be the one to set her body on a whole new level of fire. Not because other guys hadn't been good—after all she'd had some pretty great sexual experiences in her life—but because he was different to her. They felt different.

And she wanted to get a taste of that. She wanted to have him. She wanted him to touch her. And she wanted it all right now.

"Ugh." Maisy shuffled on the passenger seat and looked away from him, watching the empty street and covering the back of his hand with her palm. "Why is your place so far away?"

Harry smirked, and although she couldn't see him, she could feel the burning of his eyes all over her chest.

"It's not, actually," he said, so low and so husky that it felt almost calculated. As if he knew the effect it would have on her. "I think you're just eager to get there."

He squeezed her thigh, getting his fingertips just a little bit deeper into her, and Maisy faced him again.

If he wanted to play that game, then she would play it just as well.

Staring into his eyes, she scooched down a little, then dragged his hand along with hers. Sliding it just an inch up through her thigh. "I think I am, yes."

His gaze faltered for a moment, dropping down to where she was guiding their touch. Maisy bit her lip, enjoying his attentiveness, and kept moving their hands, stopping only when his pinky finger reached the crease between her thigh and her pelvis. She squeezed his hand, and he squeezed her body, pinching her flesh with his fingers.

Maisy sighed, hypnotized on how pretty and hot and cute and manly he looked. All at the same time.

"Aren't you?" she asked, making sure her voice acted as a mirror of her current feelings, and sharing with him the sensual and confident side of her. One she had never been able to show him before, but was dying to.

Harry licked his lips and exhaled through his nose, then looked back at her face. He blinked a couple of times, then asked, "Hm? Am I what?"

Holding back a smile, she slid her fingers up his wrist, freeing his hand from her touch at the same time she brought her other hand around and placed it on her other inner thigh.

"Eager," she murmured. She squeezed her own leg, just like he'd done it before, and made her way up to the place her body most wanted him to be. "To get home… And touch me."

"Jesus Christ." Harry looked between her legs and swallowed, sinking his nails so deeply into her flesh that Maisy couldn't help but hiss at the pain.

Moving her palm from her inner thigh to the back of his hand, she finally directed him to her burning and aching center. She circled her other fingers around his forearm, holding tightly onto him, and rolled her hips timidly, subtly. Almost as if she didn't want him to see it—but also making sure he would not only see it, but that he would also feel it.

"I want you to touch me," she murmured, rolling her hips for a second time.

He dug the heel of his palm between her legs, then pressed his fingertips onto her center. "I can see that."

"You don't want to?"

Harry glared at her. Something seemed to have snapped inside him, and his voice got darker when he asked, "What do you think?"

Maisy shrugged, trying hard to create complete, full, coherent sentences while Harry's hand was finally there. "I hope you do. And that I'm not embarrassing myself."

He stroked his fingers through her wetness, curling his fingers and meeting his own palm as he grabbed between her legs—so harshly and so firmly that Maisy closed her eyes and squirmed on the passenger seat. She gasped quietly, leaning into his arm and pressing her forehead near his shoulder. Fully letting him take over the situation.

"I like this side of you." He loosened up his fingers, then moved them up and down, over and over again, spreading her wetness as best as he could despite the layers of clothes that covered her. "Almost made me lose my game over there. But look at you now… Did you always feel like this?"

"Oh God," she mouthed onto his bicep. The fabric of her pants, plus her thong, didn't allow her to feel him properly, but she felt enough to quiver from head to toe, and enough to make her want more.

She spread her legs wider, and Harry increased the pressure and speed of his stroke, moving his fingers faster and more forcefully.

"Tell me, did you always feel like this when I drove you places?" he insisted. "Did I always make you this wet?"

Maisy nodded, and grunted.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I know it's—It's kinda inappropriate, isn't it? I—Sorry—"

"Shh,shhh… It's not." Harry rubbed her covered entrance in circles. Quick circles, experienced circles, making her get wetter and wetter. "Wish I knew sooner, that's all."

He focused on performing his task with only one finger, then, pressing it between her lips and then rubbing circles in search for that spot that would drive her insane. As soon as he found it, Maisy jolted and moaned, unable to contain herself anymore.

Still holding onto his arm, she recovered the strength on her other hand, covering his knuckles and fingers and guiding his touch once again. She helped him so he could touch her like she wanted him to, so he could keep pressing and stroking her exactly where she needed him to, and before she could notice it, she was fully rolling her hips on their connected hands. Searching for more friction. Desperate for relief.

Harry groaned, and she arched her back. He pressed faster, and faster. And she was there. Almost there. So, so, so almost there.

She just needed some more rolling, just like that, some more gasping, oh God, yes, and then—

And then someone honked behind them.

They both jumped. Maisy pressed her legs together and covered her center with one hand, while Harry straightened up and stretched his arm across her chest—as if that would hide her the flush from her cheeks, or the desperation from her breath, or the lust from her eyes.

The car behind them honked again. And again.

"Wha—"

"Green," she breathed out, pointing to the traffic light while her chest moved up and down. Up and down. Up and down.

And the car behind them honked, again.

"Shit," Harry mumbled, letting go of Maisy to shift gears and press the clutch pedal, then easily letting it go again. "Sorry… Sorry."

Still out of breath, she kept her legs pressed together and nodded. "Yeah, I—Yeah…"

He sped up before pressing the clutch pedal and shifting gears again, driving as fast as he could through the city.

Maisy clenched her thighs, then between her legs, and shuffled on her seat.

Peeking at her, Harry sighed.

"Shit. I'm sorry."

Maisy nodded again. How long did they just spend there? Stupidly parked at a traffic light? And how many green lights did they ignore?

"You ok?" he asked, eyes on the road and both hands on the steering wheel.

She shifted and rearranged herself, feeling the burning desire between her legs turn into sticky coldness.

"Yeah… I just…" Maisy said, watching the neighborhood through the window and chuckling lightly. "I forgot we were there."

"I know, me too," Harry laughed. "Shit. Completely lost track of time, too."

"Mhm."

She laughed.

And then they both laughed.

Peeking at her again, Harry grabbed her hand one more time, pulling it from her lap and taking it to his mouth.

"Don't worry, by the way." He kissed the back of her hand, then took their connected hands to shift gears. "I'll take care of you as soon as we get home."

She smiled, then intertwined her fingers with his. "Mhm. You better."

"Ok," Harry said, turning the steering wheel and straightening out the tires. He put the car into neutral and lifted the handbrake, then took his feet off the pedals and twisted the ignition key. The engine stopped working, but silence didn't have enough time to settle before he tapped her leg twice and spoke again, "Get out."

He stepped out of the car, and Maisy blinked. Smiling to herself, she shook her head and reached to open her door, but Harry was already there, doing the job for her and offering his hand for her to hold.

She narrowed her eyes, and looked up at him.

"C'mon," he said, wiggling his fingers. "Out."

She opened her mouth to call him out for his demanding tone, but ended up snorting and chuckling, instead.

"Well, look who's eager now," she muttered, taking his offer and grabbing his hand, then getting out and stepping aside.

The last five minutes of the drive to his place had been completely silent, and although his promise of taking care of her as soon as they got home lingered between them, all the events of that day had finally started catching up with her brain while Harry's thumb soothed the back of her hand and she watched the streets go by through the window. Tiredness and sleepiness got a hold of her muscles, and her thoughts worked at a much slower pace than before. So whilst she still found herself desperate to get to his apartment, she also wouldn't have complained about taking a short nap first.

"To be fair," he said, "been eager since I first saw you tonight."

He slammed the door shut, and its bang echoed around the parking lot. Maisy looked around, fixing her outfit while Harry moved to stand in front of her. He seemed to be the only neighbor who hadn't been in the building that night, all the other spots already occupied by different types of cars. Other than that, everything was quiet, as if they were the only two people awake in the entire town.

"What happened to building maintenance?" she murmured.

Harry tilted his head and smiled, placing his hands on her hips and caging her between his body and his car. "Building maintenance?"

Looking over his shoulder, Maisy rested her hands on his chest and shrugged. It hadn't always been intense, gray darkness and dim lights, had it? She usually walked into the building through the front door, so she couldn't remember the last time she'd been there, but she was pretty convinced it used to look more appealing than… That.

"Yes. Half of the bulbs are gone," she pointed out.

He lifted his hands to her face, brushing his thumb over her jawline while sliding the other four to the back of her neck. "Are they?"

Guiding her to look at him, he tilted his chin down and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

Maisy sighed and closed her eyes, enjoying his softness. "Mhmm…"

He pulled away, only enough to murmur, "Didn't notice."

And then he kissed her again. Curling his mouth around her bottom lip and getting a taste of it, then letting it go and repeating the process with the upper one.

Kind of dizzy, Maisy dropped her palms to his waist, grasping at his t-shirt for some balance just as he tilted her head to the side and drifted his kisses to her cheek.

"It's just…" She swallowed, keeping her eyes shut and focusing on the way his wet lips caressed her skin. "Kinda dark… Isn't it?"

Harry hummed, pressing more and more kisses. He took his time moving towards her ear, meanwhile drawing small circles on her lower jaw and pushing her body against the closed door.

"It is dark, yes," he said, brushing his nose next to her ear and allowing every word to resonate inside her. "Means no one can see us."

Maisy rested her weight on his car, and Harry waved both hands up through her hair, holding it into a ponytail. With a gentle but firm tug, he pulled her head back, then moved his kisses down to her neck.

God. That felt good.

Really good.

He kissed her again. And again, and again, and again. Parting his lips slightly and making it wet. Making it sweet. Making it noisy. Hmmmm…

She parted her lips, breathing heavily through her mouth. Heat seemed to rush to every spot he touched, and she could feel her pulse racing in her throat.

So good.

"I mean," she barely managed to say. "Maybe… Someone… Could…"

He hummed again, a little longer this time, letting her know he was listening even though he seemed much more preoccupied about covering her throat with warm, needy and calculated kisses.

"Yes…" He parted his lips wider, pressing them where her neck met her shoulder and sliding his tongue up and down. Wet, and warm. Once, and twice. "Maybe."

Harry knew what he was doing, tracing a dreamy and sensual path from one side to the other with his plump and juicy lips. Sucking slightly even now and then, soothing with his tongue, teasing with his teeth. Using his large hands to tilt her head as he pleased. Letting her know how careful and affectionate he could be, but also showing off his power and strength.

Maisy's heart skipped a beat, and her legs weakened.

"Wanna risk it?" he asked, breathing hot air into her ear.

Twisting her hands around his t-shirt, Maisy opened her eyes. She licked her lips and swallowed, putting herself together and finding the last remains of energy to say something back to him.

Truth be told, there was something about being the only two in that dark parking lot that made her feel excited to keep going. The danger was a turn on, and there was no other person that could ever make her feel as safe as Harry did, so she knew that if there was a time to be brave and risk it all, that would be it.

At the same time, the idea of getting caught by one of his neighbors—people she more than often encountered in the elevator or walking in the hallway—brought nervousness to the pit of her stomach. It was one thing to make out passionately and let others know how much you were into someone, but getting caught naked and mid-orgasm was completely different. At least when it came to Maisy, of course.

"That eager, huh?" she asked, facing the ceiling and waiting for him to tilt her head back down. "Can't even make it to the fourth floor?"

Her question put a smirk on his face, and it granted her wishes, causing Harry to tighten the grip of his fingers and guide her to look at him again.

"That eager, yes." He leaned in, brushing the tip of his nose up and down her own. "Can you blame me?"

He let go of her hair and slid his fingers down, brushing the tips on each side of her neck.

"Been thinking about you in this outfit since I first saw you tonight."

He traced her collarbones, then breezed from her shoulders to her forearms, sliding his own shirt off from her arms, and then going all the way back up to her chest once again.

Her flesh prickled at his touch, and a brief shiver rippled through her, causing Harry's smirk to get even wider.

Just like before, his reaction was enough to snap something inside her. Because even though she enjoyed taking orders and being compliant to someone else's wishes, Maisy didn't enjoy giving all her power away. Not all at once, at least.

So she looked down at her own body, let Harry's shirt hang on her elbows, and raised her eyebrows.

"This outfit?" she asked, as if she hadn't bought that top specifically for that night. Or as if she had never heard Harry talking to the boys about bloody gorgeous tits before. Or as if she wasn't proud of the curves she had to offer. Or as if she hadn't hoped of getting his attention when she'd put the pieces together and stared at herself in the mirror earlier in the afternoon.

"Mhmm…" He grabbed the spaghetti straps between his fingers, then followed their path from her shoulders to her chest. "This outfit."

She glanced up again, then watched him carefully and patiently, fluttering her eyelids while drowning her voice in innocence and naivety. "What about it?"

"Do I really need to say it?"

Maisy nodded. "I would like you to, yes."

Harry hummed, and looked down at her chest. He toyed with the thin straps a little longer, hooking each one inside of his fingers and running through them up and down.

If Maisy would've had to guess, she would've thought he was pondering his next words. Weighing them up. Choosing them carefully. Making sure they wouldn't go unnoticed, and therefore making sure she wouldn't go unaffected. She'd seen Harry flirting so many times, that she knew how much liked the thrill of the chase. She'd also shared a lot of conversations with him about the subject, so she knew how much he cared about making other people feel good, even when he knew it wouldn't go further than a one night stand—although even if she hadn't talked to him about it, she knew that making people feel good was a trait that played a huge part in who Harry was; not only when dating or hooking up, but just in general.

"Well," he eventually said, clearing his throat and answering her question. "I mean, I didn't want to be disrespectful at the club, but…"

He moved his hands, leaving the straps of her top behind and tracing its edge instead.

"To be completely honest…" He brushed the tips of his index and middle fingers across her cleavage. Teasingly and featherly. Eying his own movements. Scanning the patterns he drew all over the swell of her breasts. "And only because you're asking…"

He paused to glance into her eyes, then slid his tongue between his lips and looked back down to his hands.

"I couldn't stop staring at these," he finally added.

Maisy's skin tingled, and her insides quivered. She closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the way his fingers made her feel. Enjoying the fact that he'd been staring at her breasts. And enjoying even more the idea of him filling his hands with them and giving both a forceful squeeze. Shit. She swallowed.

Her heart hammered in her ears, though, and her lungs didn't seem to keep up with so much information. She knew Harry could feel her chest moving up and down frenziedly under his touch, meaning that, once again, it would be impossible for her to hide how breathless he made her feel.

So she would have to use it in her favor, instead.

Shifting on her feet, she leaned fully into the car and breathed in deeply, filling up her chest and pressing her cleavage briefly into his hands. Then, she exhaled through her nose, leaving Harry's fingers running over empty air.

"And?" she asked, feeling herself taking control once again. "What's your verdict?"

He peeked at her and took a step forward, fingers finding her again. "My verdict?"

"Mhm. You like them?"

Harry wiggled his eyebrows and nodded, letting her know he understood the question.

Focusing on one breast, he moved his index finger up and down, drawing a straight line, then repeating the process an inch or two to the side.

"I think they're gorgeous," he said, connecting the two lines with a horizontal stroke.

Maisy smiled. "Thanks. I think so, too."

Harry smiled, too, then moved to her other breast. "You do, huh?"

Once again, he traced two vertical lines, and connected them horizontally with a third one.

"Mhmm…"

"Can't see why you wouldn't." He reached her sides and drifted down, roaming through her ribcage. "Can't see why anyone wouldn't."

He got past the exposed skin of her waist, then to the waistline of her pants.

"These are really nice, too." He sneaked four fingers between the fabric and her stomach, leaving only his thumb out as he grabbed onto the waistline and pulled her forward. Maisy gasped quietly, almost unnoticeable, stumbling on her feet while Harry skimmed his other hand down through her belly. "But I bet this one" —he tilted his chin down while she tilted her head up, and then he cupped between her legs, fully palming and covering her heat— "looks better."

Maisy snorted, pressing herself into his touch. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Holding each other's gazes, they both smirked.

Harry pushed his hand into her, backing her up and forcing her into the cold car while stepping forward. "Am I supposed to pretend I'm not dying to take your clothes off?"

Maisy shrugged. "I mean, I would rather if you got right into it, but if you want to keep playing games…"

Harry's smirk faded away. He rubbed his fingers up and down, making sure to stroke from one side to the other. Harsher. Fully. From her entrance, to her front. Just like he'd done earlier that day. But somehow even better.

Oh God. Maisy blinked, then moved her palms up to his arms, holding tightly onto him while flickering her eyes all over his face.

Something had happened.

There were no traces of playfulness or teasing anymore. No more smirks, no more cluelessness. No more fake oblivion. No more mulling over his words.

Harry looked focused and determined. Sure of himself. And yet ready to crumble.

"'M not playing games," he stated, touching her. Always touching her. "Would never play games with you."

Oh. The information clicked inside her mind, and she squeezed his arms. "I—I know."

She hadn't meant it like that, and she knew Harry wasn't messing around with her. He wouldn't do that. If he didn't want her, then he wouldn't be with her. Simply as that.

"Good." He slid his foot between her boots and parted her legs, then spread them even wider with his knee. "Now, I'd really like to make you cum."

Applying more pressure to his hand, he rubbed circles, just like she'd guided him earlier.

Ohh… Maisy fluttered her eyelids, then fully closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip, holding back a moan and turning it into a soft whine, instead.

"Can I make you cum, pretty girl?"

Turning the corners of her mouth up, Maisy nodded.

"Right here?" He moved faster. "Right now?"

Oh God. She swallowed, then slid her tongue through her parted lips and glanced at him.

"I—Oh God—" The words flew out from her mind to her mouth, and she dropped her forehead to his chest. "Are there—Shit—Are there cameras here?"

He shook his head. "Nope."

"Then—"

"We can barely afford light bulbs. Or so I've heard."

"Oh my God," she chuckled, twisting his t-shirt inside her fingers as the feeling grew more and more intense with each stroke. "Shut up, and—Oh God… Just… Fuck."

"Yes?" he asked, the smile clear in his voice.

She breathed in and out, heavily and loudly, and slid one hand from his arm to her own waist. Pulling away from his chest, she stared into his green eyes and unbuttoned her pants.

"Touch me." And then, she unzipped them. "Now."

Harry smirked. He looked around and over his shoulder, then stood by her side and pushed her further towards the front of the car, closer to the wall. Maisy sighed, and relaxed. It was good to know they were in sync. That no matter how much they wanted to do that, none of them got to the point of disrespecting each other's—or other people's—boundaries.

And then, he sneaked his hand inside her pants, and every one of her worries and random thoughts vanished away. She focused on him, and on the things he did to her. She focused on the way he stood straighter and stretched his arm, then got in between the lace of her thong and the warmth of her skin. She focused on the way he stepped forward and relaxed his body into her side, too, throwing his free arm around her neck while angling his other forearm to get his fingertips past her hair, and right into her wet flesh.

"Fuck."

They looked at each other for a second, and then they both chuckled, simultaneously leaning in for a whole new kiss.

"Fucking finally…" Harry mumbled.

He dipped his middle finger between her folds and stroked it up and down, collecting her wetness and spreading it around. Maisy shivered, and her hips jerked forward, almost against her will. With a grunt, Harry pulled his hand off from her pants and broke the kiss, bringing his middle finger to his mouth and sucking it in.

He closed his eyes when tasting her, and Maisy's body got on fire. Grabbing his t-shirt into fists, she pulled him closer, then licked her way around his jaw. Tasting whatever inch she could reach, and as much as she could, while he put his hand back inside her pants.

"C'mere." He kissed her again, and dipped his fingers between her folds again. Stroking them up and down. Spreading her open. Getting to know every corner of her.

Maisy sighed. She moved her hands, grabbing his neck, and his bicep, then let her body react to his wonderful, skillful fingers. His never stopping fingers. Stroking up and down, up and down. Rubbing circles. Pressing her clit. Rubbing her clit. So good. So, so good.

"Oh God." She leaned into him, moving her hips and searching for more friction. "Harry…"

"Yeah?"

More. She needed more.

"Ugh," she practically whined, opening her eyes. "Touch me."

"I am touching you."

She smacked his shoulder. "Then touch me more."

Harry laughed, then quickly kissed her again. He hunched slightly and pressed his middle finger inside her. Just barely, though, not even making it to his first knuckle before freezing and kissing the corner of her mouth.

"Like this?"

"More."

Half an inch forward.

"Like this?"

"Oh my God!" She grabbed his wrist, and glared at him. "I hate you so much right now!"

He smiled, kissing her cheek, and her chin, then her mouth. "No you don't."

Maisy rolled her eyes. "I do, yes."

"Hmmm."

With half of his middle finger still inside her, he pressed one side of his hand on her clit, then went back to rubbing circles.

She let go of his wrist and placed both hands on his shoulders, then threw her head back and rolled her hips back and forth.

"You said you'd make me cum…"

Keeping the steady movement of his hand, Harry kissed her cheek.

"You're right, baby."

Baby.

Maisy throbbed between her legs, then squeezed her eyes shut.

"I did say that," he added, and she huffed.

"So make me, damnit."

"Alright baby," —he bent his knees, then pushed his middle finger deep inside her— "Alright."

Oh.

Maisy moaned.

He slid his hand and pushed his finger out. Then thrusted back inside. Curving it, he pressed it against her wall, searching for that spot that would drive her insane. When he found it, Maisy's knees wobbled, and she melted into him.

"Oh God." She looked into his eyes, breathing from her mouth while he stared back at her.

"Yeah?" Out. And in. Hitting into that same spot one more time. "Right there?"

She bit her lip, and nodded. "Mhmmm…"

He pulled his lonely finger out, then pushed two inside. Aiming for that same delicious spot, over and over again. Making her feel good—so, so good.

She held onto him, hypnotized as she watched the beautiful green of his eyes, and he threaded his free hand through her hair, pulling her till his lips were against her temple. Breathing into her while he worked his strong fingers inside her. Pumping so hard that she could hear her dripping wetness in the dead-silent parking lot.

"God…" She bit her lip. "I dreamed about this for so long."

"Yeah? Is it like you dreamed it would be?"

"Much… Much better."

Harry sighed, then tightened the grip around her hair and tilted her face to the side. "C'mere."

He kissed her firmly, then, connecting their lips and keeping them together while he tried his best to angle his arm and hit the spot hidden inside her.

"Fuck…" She moaned into his mouth. "Can you… Oh God… Can you make it three?"

He hunched down, wriggling inside her pants to adjust his hand.

"Shit." He pulled away from her mouth and looked over his shoulder, then back at her. "Can't with these pants… And I don't want to undress you here…"

Maisy nodded. "Okay."

"Sorry." He pumped in and out again.

"It's—It's fine, I just… I need more."

"Then I'll give you more."

He pulled his fingers out and held her tightly with his palm, then spinned her body around. Pressing his chest to her back and hovering over her shoulder, he held her body firmly with his other arm, and proceeded to work between his legs. He pressed one finger to her clit and rubbed circles, gradually increasing the speed and pressure of his movements. The new position allowed him to relieve some of his own tension, too, rocking his hardening bulge against her ass.

Maisy melted into his hold, throwing her arm up and around his neck and holding tightly onto him while moving her hips back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

That was so much better.

Oh God.

He squeezed her tighter, keeping her in place while he made sure to give her everything she needed and wanted. More pressure, more speed. Kisses to her neck, and to her jaw. Breathing hotly into her ear.

"Yes, yes." She pulsed, throbbed, and quivered. "Oh God."

Harry moved steadily, but faster. Pushing her further, and further.

"That's it, baby," he murmured into her ear. "That's it. C'mon."

He pushed her further and further. And even further.

Until Maisy finally exploded, shuddered, and trembled.

''Ah!"

She fell forward, and Harry grabbed her. Pulling her upright, and driving her through her climax. Out of breath and numb, she grabbed his wrist and squeezed him. Silently begging for him to stop.

He complied and pulled his fingers away from her clit, soothing her and shushing her when she hissed. But then he removed his hand from her pants and automatically took it up to his mouth, licking and sucking the mess she'd made while humming next to her ear. As if she was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted.

Maisy moaned, almost painfully, holding onto his arm around her waist and instinctively drawing circles with her ass up and down his length.

"Please. Please. Just take me upstairs now."

— — — — —

The walk to the fourth floor happened in a rush. They didn't let go of each other while walking, nor stopped kissing or touching when they got inside the elevator. And by the time they were inside the living room, Harry's t-shirt was already on the floor and Maisy's boots were long forgotten by the door.

They blindly guided each other around the furniture, kissing and touching while they unbuttoned each other's pants. Harry's were the first to get lost on the hallway, and Maisy didn't miss one second before feeling him up through his briefs. He grunted and sighed, chasing her mouth while encouraging her to take the rest of her clothes off.

Maisy stumbled as they got inside his bedroom, and they both laughed, having to slow down and take a deep breath before moving on. But then she sat on the foot of the bed and Harry kneeled in front of her, going along with every single one of her movements and helping to undress her.

He kissed her legs, and moved his lips up her body, losing himself with her scent when he nuzzled his nose between her legs. He kissed her on top of the laced thong, and then pulled the item off her body. He moved up, and they captured each other's mouths once again. Kissing, sucking, nibbling. He felt her up, and she felt him up. She squeezed him with her palm, and traced him with her fingers. He breathed in and out heavily from her mouth, too worked up to properly kiss her. And then she kissed his bottom lip, holding it and sucking it into her mouth as she slid into the elastic of his briefs and finally touched him.

Harry moaned. So raw, manly, and helpless at the same time that it made her smile.

She stroked him up and down, then. Up and down, up and down. He was full, firm, and hot under her hand. Rigid. Solid. His own neediness had already gotten him wet, but not enough for her hand to slide as smoothly as she would've liked, so she pulled it off and brought it to her mouth.

Harry took the opportunity to take the last item off, his shaft hitting his stomach and making him hiss. He stroked himself, crawling over her body before diving into her neck.

Maisy squirmed, and moaned. She searched for his hand, and once she grabbed it, she pulled it directly to her chest.

"Want them in your mouth," she murmured, squeezing her breast with the help of his hand.

Harry buckled his hips into hers, and cursed into her skin. He sat on his heels and brought her along by her arms, then pulled at the sleeves of his own shirt to take it off her body.

"Tomorrow morning you're wearing this again," he said, holding up his shirt in his hand and then throwing it to the floor. "And I'm gonna fuck you in it."

Maisy smiled. "Yes, sir."

He sighed then shook his head, and she giggled. Lifting one arm, she unzipped her top with the other one. Harry helped her get rid of it, and then he was all over her body once again. Snuggling into her chest and parting his mouth to get a taste of her breast. Squeezing it into his hand and sucking it fervently. Nibbling her nipple, flickering his tongue. Sucking even more.

"Bloody fucking gorgeous," he mumbled around her.

"God, yes." She relaxed into the mattress, threading her hands into his hair and arching her body into his mouth. "Take more."

He sucked deeper, unashamedly slurping as he drooled all over her skin and grinded against her hips.

Maisy exploded with pure, raw, and wild need for him. She bent her knees and placed her feet on the bed, then spread her legs open. Stretching her arm between their bodies, she grabbed his length and pressed his tip between her folds, rubbing up and down her wetness.

"Fuck." She moaned, rolling her hips up.

"Jesus Christ," Harry grunted. "You're so fucking sexy."

He moved to her other breast, massaging the one he had just abandoned. Losing himself in her taste and squeezing her just as fiercely as he sucked her into his mouth.

Fuck. Maisy really liked that. She really liked when men loved her breasts, but Harry being the one who sucked them into his mouth was mind-blowing. It made her feral. It drove her insane.

"Hell yes." She moaned, and he moaned.

She threaded her free hand around his curls and pressed him closer to her chest. Hoping to suffocate him with her breasts. "Keep going…"

Harry hummed, drinking her in while writhing against her hand.

She scratched his scalp with one hand, and pressed him between her folds with the other. Rocking her hips back and forth while he got drunk on her. "Just like that…"

He searched for her hands, then, slotting their fingers together and sinking them onto the mattress while he devoured her entirely. Letting her breast go with a loud pop and moving immediately to her neck.

"I need you," he mumbled, spreading open-mouthed kisses to whatever he could reach. "Now. I need you now."

She hooked her legs around his waist, adjusting so he could roll and rub himself against her clit. "Mhmm… Please."

He bit her neck, and she dropped her head back, arching into him and squeezing his hands.

"Condom," he mumbled. "I'll—Condom…"

"Mhmm…"

Maisy nodded, dropping her legs to the mattress, and Harry moved, stretching to open the drawer on the bed side table. She took the opportunity to kiss his neck, and his shoulder, tasting him slowly and fervently. He grunted, having trouble concentrating, but eventually grabbed a foil package and moved back to her mouth.

He kissed her, then pulled away to tore the wrapper open with his teeth, and kissed her again. They moved together to put on the condom, always finding ways to keep meeting for tender and lazy kisses. Once he was ready, Maisy shuffled on his bedsheets and made herself comfortable, watching as he slotted between her legs and then crawled to place one elbow next to her head.

Holding himself with one arm and looking into her eyes, he took one hand down and grabbed himself.

She hugged his neck, and he teased his tip around her clit, then tapped it twice against her entrance.

Maisy hissed, and Harry grunted.

"Fucking hell," he muttered, guiding himself inside her body. "I really, really hope I last."

Maisy laughed, and he smiled. And then they kissed.

She instantly hooked her legs around his waist, resting her heels above his bum and encouraging him to get closer. To go deeper. To fill her.

Kissing.

Panting.

Moaning.

Shivering.

Maisy squeezed her eyes together, feeling the burn of the first stretch. And Harry kissed her again. Maybe trying to sooth her. Or maybe because he just couldn't stay away.

"You good?" he asked, caging her head between his forearms.

"Yeah…" She licked her lips, and blinked. "So good."

"Can I fuck you like this?" he asked. "Wanna see you."

She nodded. "Whatever you want. Just fuck me already."

Harry chuckled, then rolled his hips, sliding in and out slowly, just to test the waters.

"Whatever I want?"

Maisy sighed, and nuzzled her hands into his curls. "Yes. Whatever you want."

In…

And out…

"In that case," he said. "Wanna fuck you like this tonight."

In…

And out…

"And want you to ride me tomorrow."

Maisy smiled.

In…

And out…

"Wearing your shirt?" she asked.

"Fuck yes."

In…

He brushed the side of his nose with hers, and smiled, too. "Nothing but my shirt."

And out…

In…

She nodded. "Mkay…"

And out…

"Hmmm."

In…

And out…

"We'll have…" he started, then kept going as he followed the affectionate and sensual pace of his hips. "The rest… Fuck… Of our lives… To try… Different… Positions… Anyway… Yeah?"

Maisy smiled again. "The rest of our lives, huh?"

In…

Harry kissed her cheek, then the corner of her mouth. "Too cliché?"

And out…

She shook her head. "I like the sound of it."

"Yeah… Me too."

In…

And out…

In…

And out…

"Fuck," he growled.

Picking up the pace, he held his weight firmly onto his forearms, then moved his hips and focused on thrusting into her. In and out, in and out, in and out. Faster. And deeper.

In and out.

Maisy whimpered and squeezed her arms around his shoulders, needing something to hold onto as he built a frantic pace.

In and out.

"Took me all this… Shit… All this time to figure it out," he mumbled. "I'm not—Fuck—I'm not letting you go now."

She arched her back, and sank her nails into his back. "I'm not going anywhere."

He smashed their mouths together. Rocking his hips into her. Pounding into her. Faster. Deeper. The bed knocked into the wall. And their skin smacked together.

Hell yes.

So good.

"Don't stop," she pleaded.

So fucking good.

Loud.

Desperate.

Needy.

Hungry.

Feral.

"C'mon baby…" he mumbled around her lips, then took one hand down to her waist. "C'mon…"

More. More. More.

In and out. In and out. In and out.

Deep. Deep. Deep.

"Y—Yeah… Right—Shit. Right there… Oh my God… Keep going… Keep going…"

"You're so loud," Harry chuckled, squeezing her waist and keeping up the reckless pace. "Fucking… Love… It… Fuuuck."

Maisy gasped. She scrunched up her face, and gripped his ass with both hands.

"More… I need… More…"

"Jesus Christ…" Still holding his weight with one arm, he let go of her waist and moved between her legs, then rubbed her swollen clit. "Like that?"

"Fuck yes. Yes. Oh God, Harry… Harry… Oh God… Yes."

"C'mon then… C'mon… Let me see you…"

She moaned loudly, crying out as her walls spasmed and contracted around him and all the tension snapped at once, causing her body to tremble from head to toe.

"Fuck—" Harry closed his eyes. "Isy— Shit… I'm… Isy… Fuck."

He shattered on top of her, pulsing inside her walls as he emptied himself inside the condom and went still with each—

last—

fucking—

thrust.

"Fuuuuuck."

He held himself and pulled out, then finally collapsed into her.

Beats of silence went by. Deafening silence. A silence they hadn't ever shared before. Not in five years of friendship. Not with anyone else they'd ever been up until then. A silence that enveloped both of them naturally, that gave them time to recollect their thoughts and catch up their breaths. And a silence that, after another couple of beats, got them both rolling in bed and laughing out loud.

"Oh my God…"

Maisy hid behind her hands, feeling the mattress sink as he got up and got rid of the condom. Although she didn't want to, she followed his steps, going to the bathroom and cleaning herself up.

Moments later, when she walked back into his bedroom, she found Harry laying in bed, wearing clean briefs and waiting for her.

"C'mere," he said, patting the place next to him.

She curled her lips into a smile and practically ran to him, jumping into his bed and snuggling into his side.

"Jesus Christ Isy…" Harry pulled her naked body to himself, sneaking one arm under her neck and sliding the other one around her waist. "I'm so happy and also so fucking mad right now."

"What?" She placed one hand on his chest and hooked one leg around his waist. "Why are you mad?"

"Because!" He laughed. "Can't believe you've been hiding this side from me all this time."

"Hmm… No I haven't."

"Yes, you have."

"No, because I don't even have a side to hide!"

"You totally do. All loud… Chatty… Bossy…"

"That's not true."

"It isss tho…"

"Oh, shut up."

"Exactly!" He laughed even louder, then forced his voice in a poor attempt of mimicking her. "Shut up Harry. Touch me Harry. Fuck me Harry. More Harry. I need more Harry. More Har—Ouch! Heyyyy!"

Maisy let go of his nipple, then slapped his chest. "Stop being stupid!"

"Will you stop fucking pinching me?" he asked, smacking his palm loudly against her ass.

"Shit!" she yelped and laughed, jolting closer to his body.

"You like it rough, don't you?" he added right after, then pinched right under her bum.

"Harry!" Laughing louder, she squirmed inside his arms. "Stop!"

"You like it rough, and you're filthy."

"Oh my God." Maisy rolled her eyes, catching her breath between all the laughing. "So? What's wrong with that? Huh?"

"Absolutely nothing."

"Well, then stop judging!"

"I'm not—What? I'm not!" He shuffled, staring into her eyes and caressing her cheek. "Are you kidding me? I fucking love it!"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Mhmm… Sure."

Harry shook his head, and smiled. "Don't be silly… It's just… I don't know, but it felt different, y'know? Like… Fucking great sex… But not just like… The sex, sex, y'know? Everything about it… I don't know. I guess I just never had something like this before… Just… So fun and fucking hot at the same time… Y'know what I mean?"

Maisy bit her lip, and nodded. She cradled his cheek and moved closer, then pulled him in for a slow, sweet, and long, long kiss.

"Yeah," she whispered, pecking his mouth one more time and sliding her hand to the back of his head. "I know exactly what you mean."

Harry grunted softly.

"See?" He squeezed her bum. "And you been keeping this away from me! All this time!"

Maisy rolled her eyes—for what felt like the hundredth time. "Okay. Have you thought that maybe, maybe, if you had made a move on me instead of pulling up random girls at bars, you would've known sooner?"

Harry opened his mouth, then shut it again.

"You're right." He rested his forehead against hers and nodded. Then, he smiled. "Thank God my girl's got attitude, huh?"

Maisy bit her lip and smiled, too.

But then, she grinned. So big she even giggled.

"Your girl, huh?"

"Mhmmm…" He caressed her side. "If you want to be, of course."

"Am I going to be the only one?"

He pulled away, then looked firmly into her eyes. "I want you to be, yes. I want to do this properly. Wanna be with you. Only you. No-one else."

She threaded her fingers around the curls in the back of his head, then stroked his scalp with soft circles.

"I wanna be with you, too. Want you to be mine."

He smiled, and shrugged. "Already am. All yours."

"Good." She kissed him. "No more being just friends, then…"

"Fuck no!" He laughed, and pulled her in for another kiss. Then, he murmured into her lips, "Fuck that shit. We were never just friends, anyway."

721 notes · View notes

honeyangelkiwi · 16 days

Text

Lazy Sunday Morning | H.S.

Welcome to my tumblr debut and only bc my bestie said I should.

Plot: Harry wakes up needy

Sexual content: unprotected bed dancing, cockwarming, small breeding kink, 18+

Word count: 1.4k, just short and sweet

The sun was hardly peaking up past the horizon when Harry woke up. He didn’t want to open his eyes because of how exhausted he was. The week was a busy one and this was the one day he could sleep in without any interruptions. The pit of his stomach and the tingle in his thighs woke him though. He could feel how hard his cock was without having to look underneath the blankets that covered him and his girlfriend.

He laid naked, like he did every night, hating the thought of clothes restricting him in his own home and his own bed. However, his body temperature was rising rapidly and the small shift of his body to make himself more comfortable caused a small gasp to slip past his lips. Just the blanket moving slightly against is cock was enough to leave him breathless.

His girlfriend laid tucked into his side. He had an arm wrapped around her and her head was tucked into his chest. He could feel the small breaths of air leaving her lips. It would have been sweet, and he would have adored how cute she was when she slept, except he couldn’t. He couldn’t because those small puffs of air were hitting his nipples and it was driving him mad.

With a hard cock and nipples peaked he brought his head down to her neck. “Baby…” he whispered into her ear and turned slightly so his body was facing hers and he was no longer laying on his back. A deep groan escaped his lips when his cock brushed against her soft stomach.

She stirred a bit, but still was not completely awake. Harry brought his hand up to her face and pushed her hair away. “Baby, wake up, please.” He ends up moaning into her ear. He couldn’t help himself. He needed some kind of friction, and so he had started slowly rutting his hips against her to get some. His hand slides into her hair and he grips it a little too tightly when the head of his cock hits her belly button ring. The cold sensation of the metal felt like too much when he was so hard and so worked up this early.

He starts pressing deep kisses into her neck to keep coaxing her awake. Eventually, her eyes pop open and a slow smirk spreads across her face. “What’s gotten into you, love?” She questions him. He isn’t normally up at this hour on a sunday morning. “Need you, now.” He whimpers into her neck. He was still rutting his hips against her and moaning into her neck as he started sucking a bit harder to leave marks.

Both of them were still tired, but wanted nothing more than that lazy sunday morning sex they don’t have often. “Okay, babe.” She says into his mouth after she pulled his face out from her neck to kiss his lips. She looks into his eyes that lay low with dark lust and tiredness. They both have those lazy smiles on their faces as he leans down and presses a soft kiss to her lips. There is no rush, just slow, languid movements as they savor the feeling they’re drowning in.

Never detaching his mouth from hers he rolls them over so he is hovering over her, keeping his weight on his forearms beside her head. He nestles himself between her legs and groans and how warm and slick her thighs are. “Fuck, baby. Were you dreaming about me? Dreaming about how well my cock fits inside of you?” He gasps out as he brings a hand down to grab his length and tease her. “Yeah, dreamt of how good you make me feel.”

Harry teases himself and her a little bit longer, running his tip between her folds and circling it around her clit. Small gasps and pleas fall from her lips. He looks down into her eyes as he finally pushes himself in, not stopping until there’s no room left inside of her. Pausing, he brings his mouth back down to hers before pulling out and slowly pushing back in. Her mouth parts and he takes the chance to dip his tongue in, exploring as if it was his first time.

He keeps the same slow and lazy pace. Pulling out and pushing back in with a rhythm that leaves them open mouthed against each other. The only sounds coming from them are small moans and gasps for breath as they move their bodies together to chase the high they both need. She brings her hands up to the nape of his neck, grasping at the hairs there tightly. “Harder, please baby. I need it harder.” Her question is answered quickly with a sharper thrust from Harry.

“You’re taking me so well, so early. God, I love how you feel in the morning. Gonna stay like this when we’re done. Not leaving until I’m ready.” He starts mumbling. He’s so lost in how good he feels and he keeps going.” Your pussy was made for me, baby girl. Can’t ever get enough of it.” His thrusts become deeper the more he talks. “Gonna want to wake up like this forever, gonna make you my wife.” A sharp shiver runs down her back and a breathy gasp falls from her lips at that testament.

He hikes her leg up around his waist a bit higher and the loud moan she lets out tells him he’s hitting her sweet spot. He doesn’t fuck into her any faster. He keeps his pace slow, but drills his hips deeper and harder. She can feel the tension building up into her stomach quickly now. “Please…” She gasps out, and Harry knows what she needs. He brings a hand down between them and starts softly rubbing circles into her clit.

She’s clenching around him uncontrollably now. He can feel how tight she’s getting. She’s squeezing his cock so hard that she’s almost pushing him out. His pace picks up now, thrusting into her faster now that the ball in the pit of his stomach is finally about to burst. His head is in her neck and he’s moaning and gasping for air. “Cum for me baby. I need you to cum right fucking now.” He groans and bites down into her neck.

Her mouth parts in a silent moan, unable to form words as her high barrels into her. Her hips and legs are shaking and her fingers are gripping his hair so tight she thinks she may begin to pull it out as she soaks his cock. He doesn’t stop though. He keeps thrusting into her and rubbing her clit until his own orgasm washes over him.

He slams in one more time and stills his hips inside of her. He pushes himself impossibly deep, wanting to feel her milk every last drop of cum he has for her. The moan that pushes past his mouth is pornographic. His cock twitches as rope after rope of cum spurts into her warm cunt and he shudders at the feeling.

Once they’ve both come down from their highs he pulls his face from her neck and smiles down looking into her bright eyes. “I’m still tired, baby.” He whispers as he lowers his lips to hers to peck them softly. “Me too, get off so we can go back to sleep.” She giggles into his mouth and brings her hands to his chest to push him off.

“No, I told you I was staying like this.” The smirk on his face widens before a cheeky smile pops up and dimples show. “Gonna keep my cock right here, nice and warm.” She raises an eyebrow, but can’t help the giddy feeling she has in her stomach. She’s not ready to feel empty yet. Holding on to her he rolls over so they’re laying on their sides and she has a leg draped over his waist.

She nestles her face into his neck and inhales the slight scent of sweat on his skin. “That’s fine with me, love having you inside of me.” She whispers as the tiredness starts to rapidly fall upon her. “Need to make sure you end up with a belly full of my babies.” He says and kisses her forehead before letting his eyes shut and sleep fall across them.

#harry #harrystyles #styles #fanfic #harry!smut #oneshot #harry styles #harry styles smut #smut #harry edward styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles oneshot

617 notes · View notes

honeyangelkiwi · 16 days

Text

DRIVE ME WILD | Part 2

Plot: You, cart girl-turned-Chief of Marketing for Pleasing, return with the company’s CEO Harry Styles to the place where your business and personal relationship all began. The intention behind the trip was once again a game of golf, but as ever, Harry is left wanting a hell of a lot more; something you very much plan on providing.

Sexual Content: degradation, size kink, spit, dirty talk, choking, hair pulling, fingering (f receiving), ass play (f receiving), intercourse (unprotected) and oral (h receiving). For an 18+ audience only. Word Count: 9.5k

DRIVE ME WILD | Part 1

After fucking Harry Styles, the CEO of Pleasing, almost a year ago, you landed yourself a role at the company as much as you landed yourself the role of his friend with benefits. His only friend with benefits, to be exact.

You’re both back where it all began: Cherry Creek Country Club. It’s odd being a player on a golf course as opposed to a worker, your cart girl days long behind you now. Being back here for the first time since leaving truly feels like a fever dream. Like a whole other lifetime ago, actually.

However, you’re currently being tethered to reality because of how fucking awful you are at playing the game.

“What did I tell you about your stance?!” Harry barks at you, his infrequent impatient side rearing its head.

You know it’s only appeared because you’re both on the same team against fellow Pleasing employees, and you’re losing thanks to your ineptitude. Harry hates losing.

“Feet further apart.” He snaps, “Tighten your grip. Eyes on the hole, not the ball.”

This was meant to be a fun, team-building day out, but you’re currently not having fun and if anything, you’re all divided. Ten fellow co-workers have already finished playing the eighteen-hole course and have driven off to the clubhouse’s bar, leaving behind you and Harry as well as two other colleagues, Rochelle and Elijah, who are cockily grinning as they stand ahead to watch you fail miserably.

You and Harry are also very much being divided right now given his insatiable need to win. He’s a competitive soul through and through, whereas you just came here to catch some sun, get a little bit drunk and because it was mandatory.

You’re thankful to be on the final hole now. A bottle of rosé is calling your name.

With your back to Harry, you screw your face up, mocking his commentary like you’re a child rebelling against their parents’ scolding. You wouldn’t dare do it if he could see your face. You don’t fancy a spanking today considering your ass is still sore from last week’s defiant streak that he was quick to straighten out.

Nevertheless, you follow his instructions. You take the shot, the hole a mere six feet away, but your ball veers about thirty more in the wrong direction. You sort of hit it a smidge too hard.

“For fuck sake! How hard is it to listen?!” Harry loudly grumbles, Rochelle and Elijah laughing louder than ever.

You turn around and watch Harry stomp off towards the ball in a huff, his club wielded in hand looking ready to snap with the tight grip that he has on it. Since that was your final shot to take – a shot that should have wrapped the game up as it should have gone in the hole – it’s now up to Harry to fix it.

You step to the side and lean on your club like a walking stick, feeling warmer than ever in your thin white sleeveless dress. The sun beams down, but the reality of you feeling so heated has nothing to do with the summer weather.

It’s the sight of Harry that’s got you so hot and bothered. He’s always the reason.

A collared long-sleeve navy polo shirt layered over a white round neck top sits loose on his torso over equally loose light grey slacks. His polished black shoes match his thick Rayban sunglasses and the plastic claw clip holding the front of his hair back. There’s no chunky rings adorning his fingers today, but his mini pearl necklace that you gifted him for his birthday a few months back rests cutely against the white material on show between his open collar.

He wore a lot of colour and print when you both first met here last year, but now he’s dressed in plain black, grey and navy. He goes through spates of being bold and vibrant, but he mostly likes to keep things muted these days.

Regardless of what shade or style he opts for, Harry’s sense of fashion is one thing that has remained top tier, and you know it always will. The effects it had on you really ought to be studied, but right now, it’s his face that has you needing to fan yourself.

He’s currently all work and no play as he concentrates on positioning himself correctly, face furrowed and the tip of his tongue slightly poking out of the corner of his mouth. Harry’s twenty-nine now, and he's looking as gorgeous as ever. He’s aging like a fine fucking wine.

You watch as he now smacks the ball hard, the white dimpled object flying, bouncing and rolling before stopping a foot away from the hole. Rochelle and Elijah clap at his shot while you simply gawk, feeling as stunned as ever by his impressive skill.

Over the last year, you’ve learned that Harry has many talents. He’s the kind of person that can turn their hand to anything and be immediately good at it. It’s infuriating, but my god is it something you find intoxicating, too.

He now slowly strolls over to the ball, looking a lot less angry and a lot more arrogant, with a small smirk on his heart-shaped lips that has you squeezing your bare thighs together tightly. You thought you both would have fucked enough times over the last almost twelve months that the effects of that cocky smile on your body would’ve lessened, yet here you are. Wet and tingly.

Stopping by the ball, Harry crouches down and takes a good look at its lining with the hole, but it isn’t long before he’s looking at you, instead. Over the top of his sunglasses he meets your gaze, and his smirk grows more mischievous than ever.

It takes every bit of restraint you have not to jump his bones here and now. No one knows about the arrangement you both have, though, so you need to keep your shit together and your legs closed.

For now.

Harry shifts to stand tall and gets into position for the final time, his stance seemingly correct, grip on the club looking firm and eyes through his sunglasses on the hole as opposed to the ball. He takes one small swing, the tap the only sound to be heard before the follow-up clatter of a successful shot; the ball now where it’s meant to be and this game of golf thankfully and finally wrapped up.

Rochelle and Elijah give him applause and whistles, but you stand completely still. You��re too horny to move, to think, and as Harry now sends you a smug smirk, that feeling only worsens.

“See what happens when you pay attention to instructions?”

Your frozen disposition is quick to thaw, and you’re now giving Harry a glare with your golf club extended out towards him threateningly, “Oh, shut your mouth! I tried, didn't I?! It’s just a game, asshole!”

“To you maybe, yeah,” Harry throws back, his snark strong and temper flaring up lightly, “but I bet a grand on us winning, so thanks for ensuring we didn’t, love.”

To outside ears, they’d probably be shocked at hearing how you and Harry talk to each other, but it’s part of the ruse. You both act like you hate each other in front of everyone, and then you fuck in a similar sort of way when it’s just the two of you, even though it’s the furthest thing from the truth.

You and Harry are great friends that care for one another and are very much into each other in a sexual way, completely fine with your fuck buddies set-up. It’s uncomplicated and a lot of fun.

You recognise a certain spark in Harry’s eyes that you’ve seen from him before, one where he’s getting off on both talking to you like shit and being talked to like shit by you. You know your own holds the same, because you feel the same. This is foreplay for you guys.

“Well whose fault was that?! I didn’t force your hand to gamble!” You scoff as you walk past Harry, setting your club in the bag that’s hooked onto the back of your shared cart.

Once done, you turn to face him with folded arms and an arrogant smirk, “Besides, you’ll make that money back in what, twenty seconds?”

“Try ten.” He quips fast, smirking back just as arrogantly while ambling towards you with his own club to put away.

No one took the option of a caddy today, because Harry insisted on hiring carts for everyone. You know the main reason he wanted to though, and you’re probably going to be experiencing it first hand very soon.

You stay put by the cart while Harry wanders over to a still waiting Rochelle and Elijah. You watch him reach into the back pocket of his slacks and hand them both some cash from his thick money-clipped stack, and then off they go. The pair gave you a smug wave, climbed into their shared cart and now drive off to the clubhouse up ahead, leaving you and Harry very much alone.

He waits in place, watching after the pair for a few seconds, which is exactly what you’re doing, too. The two of you are ensuring that they’re at a decent distance before doing what you both know is about to happen next.

Once they’re out of close eyeshot, you’re met with a grin. Harry has spun around to face you; his feet carrying him towards you fast, and his lips on yours even faster.

“You’re so fucking shitty at golf, it’s actually maddening.” He mumbles against your mouth, his hands on your face as he pushes you to walk backwards until your back meets the cart with a light thump.

You purposefully nip at his bottom lip, smirking when he groans while your hands grip the collar of his shirt tightly, “Maybe if you didn’t fuck me every time you tried to give me lessons, I’d be better.”

Harry laughs lightly, his smirking lips detaching to ghost yours while he nudges your nose with his own, “Maybe if you were a good girl and wore panties during those lessons, then you wouldn’t get fucked.”

“Touché.” You grin, pulling his mouth back onto yours where you both melt into the kiss, tongues lapping messily and teeth nipping lazily.

Nudging your ankle with one foot to spread your legs, Harry slots himself between them. Through the thin material of his trousers, you can feel how hard his cock already is as it presses against your stomach, and you’re whimpering just from that alone.

His hands in your hair move to grip your wrists. One pulls your own from their hold on his collar to restrain them behind your back, and the other trails up the inside of your thigh teasingly. You'll never not fall apart from the way he touches you. How big and strong his hands are. How they can manhandle you as much as they can comfort you.

Harry pulls his mouth away again, lips swollen and glossy quirked into a smirk, “Did you wear your panties today, darling? Or were you hoping for a fucking?”

“Only one way to find out, sir.” You tease, watching as Harry’s eyes flutter at your response.

He smooths his hand up your thigh higher and higher, his index finger so close to learning the truth. Despite the throb in your cunt that begs for him to keep going, you stop him with a kiss of your teeth,

“And the time to find out isn’t now.”

“Says who?” Harry throws back with a raised brow, but he stops his movement and pulls his hand away like he always has and always will whenever you imply that you both should stop.

“Says the only woman that can suck and fuck you good and proper.” You lean forward, quickly flicking the tip of your tongue against his bottom lip, “Keep up with the snark and you won’t be fucking my mouth, or anywhere else for that matter.”

“Was that the plan for us today? I wasn’t aware.” He quips sarcastically and smirkily, dropping his hold on your wrists as he steps back.

Rolling your eyes, you turn away with a smirk of your own and start to walk around to the passenger side of the buggy, “Get in the cart, boss. I need a drink.”

The drive to the clubhouse is a quick one, but my god does it feel slow because of the way Harry touches your thigh. With the exception of some cheery whistling, it’s quiet as he drives; his lips curled up into a cheeky, dimpled smile while his palm slowly strokes up and down your skin.

You grip the edge of my seat fiercely, because if you don’t, you’ll demand that he fucks you here and now, and that can’t happen yet. Not when you’ve got a plan to execute.

Harry sorts out the cart and clubs with a staff member. He hands them the keys to the buggy as well as the ones to his Audi R8 for them to put the clubs away on behalf of you both, giving the employee generous thanks and an even more generous tip before the pair of you are waltzing into the air conditioned building; the sun’s hotness dissipating, but a new one between you both developing.

Once in view of people you both know, you and Harry part ways. He pulls off his sunglasses with a subtle nod and telling smile sent your way, tucking them into the collar of his shirt before he walks over to one of the tables that your colleagues sit at.

You head to the bar, but you feel his gaze on your back. You know that Harry is being careful so as not to get caught, but his stare scorches nonetheless.

“I’ll take a glass of Flora Springs if you’re got it, please.” You smile at the bartender after he’s slipped a napkin in front of you as a coaster and you’ve taken a seat, “A shot of Patrón, too. Thank you.”

Your drinks are fetched and paid for a moment later, the burn of the Patrón you sink feeling cold given how flustered you are. You set the shot glass down with a light gasp as the liquor works to both settle you and rile you up even more.

Tequila at 10 am probably isn’t the wisest choice, but Harry never has you thinking smartly. You’re all dick-dazed when it comes to that man: your goddamn boss.

“Has that been paid for?”

You turn around in your chair to find a handsome, unfamiliar man grinning at you; the very same one to ask the question. He’s dressed in various shades of cream with chocolate coloured hair sitting perfectly styled on his head.

With big brown eyes and a killer smile, there's a movie star level of beauty about him. You see it, but you don’t feel it. You’ve only got your sights on one man.

Regardless, this man doesn’t know that. He also doesn’t know that his arrival, and what you’re assuming to be is his interest in you, has fed into your plan perfectly.

It’s harmless for him, but he is inadvertently playing the part of a pawn in yours and Harry’s game. You’d feel bad, but you’re just too turned on to care.

You need this to work in order for that to be fixed, and there’s only one way you want it and only one person you want it from. Harry, giving it to you hot and hard while claiming you as his.

Picking up your glass of wine, you grin at the man before downing it in one. He watches you with raised brows, a breathy laugh escaping him as he looks at your wine-bulged cheeks.

You swallow down the liquid, setting the now empty glass back down onto the wooden bar top while giving him a bright smile, “Has what been paid for?”

The man laughs again and steps forward, the invitation to do so now given by your flirty banter. He flags down the bartender before leaning against the countertop, resting on folded elbows with a smile on his face.

Even though you can’t see him, you can just feel Harry watching this whole interaction from across the room. It isn’t subtle this time, either.

“Another glass of what the lady ordered, and I’ll take a Coors Light, please. Thank you.” The man orders politely, turning to you with that same smile, “Hard time on the course?”

Your mind immediately jumps to think about Harry’s erection pressed against you as he pinned you against the cart. You feel your thighs tense and cunt throb, a lump now in your throat that you swallow down while nodding.

“You could say that, yeah.”

You’re given a chuckle, your drinks passed to you both now. The man pays for them before he’s bringing his bottle to his smiling lips, pausing it to hover there.

“Needing lessons?”

“I’ve got a teacher, believe it or not.” You smile, Harry on your mind once more. Like always, “He’s really good. I’m just easily distracted.”

The man stands up tall and turns until his back leans against the bar. He tilts his head, looking down at you with a smirk. You take the opportunity to turn your body his way, facing him with crossed legs and your own smirk, too.

You can really feel Harry looking now. The right side of your face is scorched from his stare, and you’re more turned on than ever before.

Harry might not be able to hear you and this gent, but he can easily see and he knows exactly what’s happening. You’re trying to bring his jealous side out by flirting with a stranger.

You’ve done it numerous times before. It’s one of the many games you play together, and he loves it just as much as you do.

“A good teacher wouldn’t let their students get distracted.” The man counters with a smirk, bringing your thoughts away from Harry and back to him, “I wouldn’t let that happen. Just saying.”

“I bet you wouldn’t.” You bring your glass to your smirking lips for a sip, swallowing a mouthful of the sweet liquid down before nudging your chin toward the door across the room, “How about we take these drinks outside and we can discuss your technique? I’ll be happy to reconsider my current teacher if you can give me what he can’t.”

There’s no chance you’d ever reconsider Harry, and there’s no way this man could ever give you what he can’t, but he doesn’t know that. A little bit of ego stroking and a lot more flirtation is required to get the next part of your plan in action.

You’re given a grin and a nod, the man gesturing his hand out for you to lead the way, “Ladies first.”

Sauntering across the room, you’re ahead of the man by a foot. You can feel him checking you out as you walk.

His stare is nothing compared to Harry’s, though. You can feel it so strongly, and now as you turn your attention to meet his, you have to forcibly swallow a moan at what you see.

He stands, his arms straight and hands gripping the back of an empty chair while your colleagues converse. His face is soft and hard in all the right ways – soft enough to let you know that he’s still Harry, your CEO boss and the man that you’ve still got a huge crush on after all this time, but hard enough to let you know that it’s game on. He sees what you’re doing, and he’s about to play into your little plan. It only makes your crush grow huger.

Even from across the room, you can see his eyes are close to black and glazed over with jealous arousal. His smirk is small but lethal nonetheless, and his hold on the wooden chair is so tight that his knuckles have turned white. You’re honestly surprised that he hasn’t cracked the seat.

You give him a wink and a smirk before turning your attention to the door. You’re walking through it seconds later, holding it open for the man to follow you out. If this were you and Harry leaving the room together, he’d have jumped at the chance to pull the door open for you, not the other way around. Forever the gentleman.

The sun is still blistering, but you and the man take shelter at a wrought iron table that is shaded by a large white umbrella. You take a seat facing away from the building, thinking about how Harry would pull it out for you before taking his own, while the man sits across from you; not giving chivalry a thought at all.

It doesn’t matter that he hasn’t. It’s not the end of the world, and you won’t be kept in his company for much longer, anyway. You give it sixty seconds maximum before Harry appears through the door you’ve both just walked through and makes his way over to interrupt.

“So, ” the man starts to speak, his bottle of beer pausing at his lips, “what’s your handicap?”

Oh god. He actually is going to talk to you about golf. You need Harry to hurry up before you die of boredom.

“Guess.” You tease instead, trying to keep the interaction fun and flirty.

He squints his eyes and purses his lips, his gaze dancing all over your face as he thinks, “25?”

“Oo, you’re too kind with that guess.” You laugh, the sound of footsteps crunching on the gravel behind you causing a flurry of butterflies in your stomach. You know exactly who those belong to, “Double it.”

“50?!” He exclaims, a low whistle sounding out next, “Damn, you really do need a new teacher!”

“There’s nothing wrong with the one she currently has.”

And here he is. Harry’s rough voice responding to the man earns the attention of you both, your heads turning to find him standing at our table, and glaring.

He looks so fucking hot when he’s pissed off and jealous.

The man laughs, the lip of his bottle pointing at Harry’s stony face, “You wouldn’t happen to be the teacher, would you?”

“And her boss.” Harry gives the man a tight, fake smile.

The sight of it, along with his blunt tone, forces you to suppress a shudder. You’re so turned on it’s insane.

Harry is quick to give you his steely, shimmery eyes next, “A word?”

You shake your head gently, disobeying him in a way you know he loves. In a way you love, too. It has delicious consequences.

“I’m busy right now chatting to this lovely man, Mr. Styles.” You tell him, your cadence light and airy, “He’s promised to help me improve my handicap with minimal distractions.”

“Is that so?” He quips back, his eyes growing darker with arousal and annoyance by the second, but more light and playful, too.

You nod tauntingly, which makes Harry laugh. The sound only works to arouse you more, because there’s no humour in it. It’s as snarky as it is sexy.

“Hopefully you’ll be a better student for him than you are for me.” He hums, turning to the man with an eye roll and a condescending smile, like he’s apologising on your behalf. “Doesn’t listen, this one. Doesn’t wear her panties when we play, either.”

At that, your jaw drops. You’re in total shock at him for saying such a thing, even if it is true, but you shouldn’t be so surprised. You’ve tormented him, now he’s tormenting you. Harry’s far better at it than you are, too; much to your enjoyment.

The man looks between you both, his head cocking back in surprise while a confused frown contorts his features, “Am I in the middle of something here?”

“Yes. Now kindly leave it.” Harry responds without missing a beat, his smile forced and furious, and tone politely pissed off, “I’d like a word with my Chief of Marketing.”

Rising to stand, the man looks between you both with another expression of perplexity before he saunters off, shaking his head. He barely rounds the corner out of view before Harry is gripping the top of your arm and pulling you to stand, walking you quickly and angrily to the car park. You simply grin hard and feel yourself growing more wet at his dominance; ready to take your licks for acting up.

At his car now, Harry stops abruptly. He pins you to the back passenger door with his lips on yours, and hands gripping the roof. You’re barricaded in, but it’s not like you want to leave anyway.

Your breath is snatched from the impact of your mouths meeting and the desperation emanating from him, his tongue straight in your mouth seeking and asserting his dominance. You can feel how hard his cock is as it presses against your stomach again. It’s the hardest that you’ve ever felt it being.

Your hands roam Harry’s chest as he swirls his tongue with yours, groans from him and whimpers from you at the contact. You can feel yourself drip down your thighs; your heart pounding hard, stomach swirling deliciously and core aching fiercely for him.

One of Harry’s hands now leaves the car and snaps around your throat. The touch and grip causes a gasp to leave your mouth that’s swallowed up by his.

You feel him grin against you, and see that look in all its gorgeous glory when he pulls his lips away. You chase his for more, but Harry simply kisses his teeth and shakes his head.

“You’re on thin fucking ice with me, love, and now you’re trying to kiss me when I’ve stopped kissing you?” He purrs, his tone inflected with lethal lust, “Little slut for me as well as every other man, it seems.”

You whimper and smirk, throbbing more than ever from the degradation, “You love it, don’t lie. 'M surprised you didn’t let him have his way with me. You and I both know he wanted to fuck me, and he’d have done it there and then after a few more minutes of my charm.”

Harry scoffs, his face alight with arousal as much as it is with anger, “Why would I let him fuck what’s mine?”

“Yours?” You torment him. You both know it’s true, but you both love the wind-up, “You think I’m yours?”

Ducking his head down, Harry runs his nose along the length of your own as he squeezes your throat a little tighter. Your head grows all light and airy from the pressure, another gasp and whine leaving your lips which only makes his twitch higher into a smile, one that creases the corners of his pretty eyes; dimples popping and all.

“I don’t think it. I fucking know it.” He murmurs, squeezing your throat again, “Look at the way you’re falling apart for me already, baby. I just know that pretty cunt of yours is dripping for me and me only, too.”

He’s right. It is.

But you’re not done goading.

“I dunno, sir… That fella was awfully good looking.” You taunt, your tone all innocent; unlike your smirk.

You watch Harry’s eyes darken further, his face hardening with jealousy even more that you're ready to see more of, “He had such a way with words, too. I can’t help how my body reacts to him.”

You’re pulled away from the car harshly. Harry’s face is stony and flustered as he now walks you to the front of his car; the black metal met by the backs of your legs.

“If that’s how you feel, why don’t you go find him, hm?” Harry speaks through gritted teeth. You both know that’s never going to happen. You won’t leave, and he won’t let you, “But I can guarantee you this, darling. He won’t fuck you like I do. No one can fuck you’d like I do.”

“And how do you fuck me?” You push push push for more, because you’re both so close to the brink.

“I fuck you like the whore you are, that’s how.” He grins, fingers once more flexing around your throat while his other travels up your back to grab your low ponytail.

Harry wraps it around his wrist, sharply yanking next. You moan out loud as he forces your head back with the pull, his lips now hovering by your ear; breath tickling and smirk felt against my perspired skin.

“The whore you are for me, because you’re all mine. All fucking mine.”

“Then claim me, Harry.” You rush out breathlessly, “Fuck me like I belong to you. Make me belong to you.”

You’re spun around to face away from him fast, Harry’s hand on your throat dropping while his hold on your hair tightens and pulls even more. You’re whining and grinning at the feeling, eyes screwed shut while panting hard and heavy at the dominance of Harry doing that, as well as his now free hand now slipping under your dress to cup your bare cunt.

He groans in your ear from the heat and wetness of it. The realisation that you are, in fact, not wearing underwear has him gasping a little; his hard cock pressing into your skirt-covered ass.

“Looks like I already have claimed you. You’d be wearing panties otherwise, because you know how much I fucking love it when you don’t.” Harry hums fact after fact, your arousal growing even more, “So fucking wet for me. Always wet for me. Who does this pussy belong to, hm?”

“You.” Your voice is a moaned murmur, but with another pull on your hair, you yell the same answer again. Just how he wanted.

Harry grins against your ear, pressing a kiss there next, “Good girl. Now spread those legs for me, baby. Let me fuck what’s mine.”

You do just that, parting your shaky legs for Harry while the heel of his hand presses onto your clit and starts to grind. Your head immediately feels dizzy and fuzzy, with more whines and whimpers pouring from your lips so freely.

But when Harry stops and removes his hand, you let out the most pathetic cry. You’re so worked up and in need of his touch there now. Always. No one gets you off quick like your fuck buddy boss.

“Desperate little whore.” He teases, his hand now sandwiched between your ass and his crotch; the sound of his belt buckle clattering as he undoes it music to your ears.

You look around, seeing no one here, but you aren’t exactly secluded. Anyone could walk out and see you both, but the thrill of being caught only gets you both off even more. You’ve done it before, and been spotted before, too. You don’t doubt that it’ll happen again in the future, as well.

The feeling of Harry’s cock now freed from the confines of his slacks and underwear makes you gasp, especially as you feel it graze against your ass from beneath the short skirt of your dress. You can feel your skin grow wet from his precome rubbing off onto it; his big cock is practically pulsing with want.

“Which hole?”

Your dizzy mind straightens out at his question, and a laugh bursts out from you suddenly. You just know Harry’s frowning with confusion.

“What’s so funny?”

“We’ve just done eighteen of them.” You snicker, the sound now echoed by Harry as he understands the joke. That’s one thing you like about the dynamic you two share. You can both have a laugh, even in the midst of sex, “I’m now trying to decide what number order to put my three in.”

Harry’s laughter grows louder and giddier. Just the way you like it. You can feel his head shaking; the curls free from his claw clip tickling your temple.

“Remind me why I hired you again?”

“Because I’m brilliant.” You throw back fast, craning your neck to look at Harry.

You find that he’s already looking at you, his expression reading that he thinks of you in the same way you’ve just described yourself. His eyes are soft and sparkly, his smile gentle and glowing. It makes every part of you tingle, your body alive with fireworks.

“Yeah. “He hums, his gaze gently dancing with your own, “You really are.”

You push your head forward to meet his mouth, which Harry accepts without hesitation. The kiss is slow and deep, the kind that has your toes curling in your white trainers, before he’s closing both of his plump lips around your top one and pulling away afterwards.

“Now answer my question.”

“Why not all of them?” You grin with a casual shrug, “Player’s choice on which they’d like to hit first.”

Harry grins and groans, “You are some fucking woman.”

Within a second of him grabbing his thick length, Harry is running it through your folds a couple of teasing times before lining the tip up with your entrance. He pushes into you slowly, and you both moan at the feeling; jaws slack, faces furrowed and eyes locked as it happens.

Filling you up and stretching you out inch by inch, his hips soon meet your ass; your cunt stuffed impossibly full. Your arms stretched behind you to hold onto his hips for dear life, while his free hand not in your hair grips onto one of yours.

“God- So wet and warm.” Harry moans, his forehead dropping to nestle into the crook of your neck, “My little slice of fucking heaven.”

“Look at me.” You squeeze your cunt around his cock, guttural groans pouring from his lips soaking into your exposed skin.

He gives you his blown-our gaze, and you start to grind against him, “Watch how good you make me feel when you fuck me, Harry. See the look on my face at how fucking right it feels to have your big cock buried in this little cunt that you own.”

Harry’s face contorts with pleasure from both your words and your body. He’s soon pulling out of you slowly, your eyelashes fluttering and eyes rolling into the back of your head at the feeling.

“So pretty, baby.” He hums, eyes on your face like you suggested, “My pretty baby.”

All slow movements effectively come to an end after Harry leaves you with nothing but his tip, because he slams back into you harshly. You choke on a moan from the impact in which he thrusts, his tip hitting so deep and deliciously that you swear you can feel it in your stomach; your breaths choppy as he pounds into you hard and fast.

Your hands leave his hips to grab onto the back of his neck for better support. Harry’s grip in your hair keeps your head back where he wants it, and the one on your hips bites your flesh. You know that you’re going to be bruised and sore for days, but that’s just how you like it. You love the reminder of Harry. He’s almost always with you even when he’s not.

The sound of your centres slapping harshly echoes around the car park, the moans you both loudly give doing the same as well. Yours now grows in volume as Harry drops his hold on your hip to toy with your clit, fast circles pressed against it with the pads of his index and middle fingers; you legs buckling and orgasm building already.

“Holy shit- Fuck- Just like that!” You stammer, a delirious smile on your lips as your cunt clamps around his cock.

“Fuck, you’re hugging me so hard.” Harry groans deeply, keeping his strokes hard and fingers fast, “You gonna come all over my cock, baby? Gonna let everyone hear you?”

“Ye- Fuck!” You’re cut off from speaking thanks to Harry slapping your clit, your hips bucking and knees buckling from the sweet sting it gives.

You see him grin, his face glowing with sweat and dominance as he slows down his thrusts until they’re lazy and spine-tinglingly good, “Bend over, darling. Lemme see how we look together.”

Letting go of his neck, Harry shifts his fingers from your clit and loosens his hold on your hair so that you can carefully lower yourself to lie flat across the black metal hood of his car.

The cool temperature of the part that’s been in the shade feels incredible against your hot skin, the right side of your face and torso lying against it. Your eyes are on Harry over your shoulder as he drops his attention to push your skirt up.

Once it’s out of the way, he’s back to gripping your hips and thrusting his. You watch him watch his cock fuck into you slowly; a breathy moan trapping in his throat at what he sees.

“Fucking perfect. That’s how we look.” He mutters, his eyes flitting up to meet yours; his smirk shining and dimple deep, “That’s what we are together, yeah?”

You swallow hard, your heart hammering at his words and what they mean. You agree, though, because it’s true, and you give him a smiley nod to show that.

Harry smiles back, his right hand leaving your hip to smooth over your bare ass, “Can I give you my fingers as well as my cock, baby?”

The notion of what he’s implying has you moaning and nodding faster this time, “Please.”

You’re shown a grin before Harry puckers his lips, collecting saliva behind his teeth that he lets string down onto your back entrance. He brings his fingers to his mouth and sharply spits onto the pads of them, too; getting them more wet than they already were from your arousal.

The sight is dizzying, but all air is truly knocked from your lungs as Harry brings those digits down to lightly tease your tightest hole while he simultaneously quickens the thrusts of his hips; his cock pounding into you once more. You push your hips back, meeting his strokes while hinting for him to give you his fingers.

Harry obliges with a throaty laugh and a head shake, both fingers slowly sinking into your ass. You gasp at the welcome intrusion, body keening to the stretch you feel as your mind fogs over from it, too.

“Such a dirty, needy slut.” He coos, eyes darting between watching his fingers and cock fuck your ass and pussy, and your face, “Does that feel good, hm?”

Your mouth hangs open, face contorted from the pure ecstasy that you feel. Implying that it’s just good feels insulting considering your body feels like warm syrup, and your soul feels like it’s floating amongst clouds.

“Better than good. Fucking magic, Harry. Give it to me harder, please. Need it. Need you.”

And once again, Harry obliges. His fingers fuck you faster, his hips quickening along with them until he’s fucking you with both in perfect, gorgeous harmony. You’re clawing at the metal pointlessly; your holes clenching, body trembling and climax fast approaching.

“Touch yourself.” Harry commands, pulling your hips away from the bonnet of his car to give you the room to follow his demand, “Rub that little clit for me. Want you to soak my cock and claim it as yours.”

Your fingers find your slick and sensitive pearl with ease, and they make fast work of circling the hardened bud. You’re close to crying from the combined and overwhelming feeling of pleasure from three separate points in your body, a fourth one if you count just looking at Harry. His face alone is enough to induce an orgasm.

And then it hits you hard, harder than you think you’ve ever experienced before. Whether it’s from the fun foreplay of teasing and tormenting Harry to turn jealous, his cock and fingers buried deep inside of you aided by your own fingers on your clit, a combination of all of these things, or because they're all happening with Harry, your boss that you have heart-eyes for, you don’t know. What you do know is that your climax shakes you from head to toe, and if you weren’t lying down, you’d collapse.

You see white, your eyes wired shut as you bite your lip to stop yourself from screaming. Tears stream down your cheeks, your arousal messily gushing out and running down your thighs as much as it drenches his dick. You swear you see God.

“Fucking hell, that’s it. Good girl, give it to me.” Harry’s praising words coax you through the high while his fingers and cock still fuck into you hard, “God, you still drive me wild. You’re so good to me, baby. You’re a fucking dream.”

Once completely spent, your hand drops from your clit to fall limply by your side. You’re exhausted, but you can quite happily go again if it means Harry gets to come, too. You need him to. It’s only fair, and there’s nothing you love more than watching his gorgeous face when he releases.

Harry now pulls back and out slowly. His fingers and cock leave your body, and a whimper leaves your lips in their absence.

“Where you going?” You utter, pushing yourself up on shaky arms before turning around just as shakily, “You didn’t come.”

Harry closes the small gap he created from stepping back by stepping forward again. There’s a gentle smile on his face as he holds your chin with the fingers that just dug into your hips.

“Baby, if I keep going, you’ll die. You looked like you were being exorcised. I’m concerned for your health.”

You can’t help but burst out into laughter, a sound that Harry echoes, “So kind and humble of you, Mr. Styles.”

“I’m the best boss there is, what can I say.” He shrugs casually, smiling cockily now with his eyes lit up all cheekily.

You’re given his lips in a soft and sweet kiss, but you’re pulling back with a frown mere moments later, “There’s no way I’m coming as hard as I did and not letting you experience the same.”

“It’s not a requirement that I do, love. You know I’m not like that.”

He really isn’t like that, and it’s one of the things you like the most about him. Harry doesn’t give a shit if he doesn’t get to come. As long as you do, which is usually multiple times, then he’s happy.

But you always see to it that he gets a happy ending as well. Right now, even with your heart rate still dangerously high and mind still drunk from dick, is no exception to that standard you’ve set.

“You’ve played twenty holes today, sir. Don’t tell me you don’t wanna make that twenty-one?” You grin.

Harry throws his head back as he laughs at your awful joke, his eyes crinkled and belly shaking as he does. It’s a glorious sight and sound, and your heart hammers harder just from being in the presence of such joy.

“I ought to fire you for that dumbass line.”

You shrug again, ducking your head to press a kiss beneath his earlobe, “I can think of another way that you can prevent any more dumbass lines from leaving my mouth. It’s hard to talk with my mouth full. Rude, too.”

His breath hitches at your implication, soon releasing all ruggedly along with his moan, “On your knees then, love. Let’s shut you up.”

Your knees meet the gravel a moment later, but not before Harry pulls off his navy long-sleeve and lays it on the ground for you. He gives you a wink while you blush and grin at his gentlemanly gesture; soon looking up at him looking down at you with a flutter of your lashes.

You take a gentle hold of his cock that glistens in your arousal, your eyes locked on his as you hold the base and slowly lick his length from bottom to top. You can taste yourself there as much as you can taste his precome, which only turns you on some more. You’ve covered his cock in your sweetness and claimed him as yours as he’s claimed you as his.

Harry's groans are deep and raspy, and they grow deeper and raspier when you flick your tongue over his leaking slit. The hand he used to hold your hip and chin now tucks your hair behind your ear as you begin to properly work his cock.

Your fist around him slowly slides up and down his thick and silky length as you suck his tip into your mouth, twirling your tongue around it as you hollow your cheeks. Harry’s face brightens and eyes darken from the feeling; his chest in the white skin tight top heaving with his ragged breaths.

“Sucking me so good, baby. Fuck.” He stutters, the praise making you feel wetter and wilder.

You reach out your free hand to play with his well-groomed balls, watching Harry take his bottom lip behind his two front teeth as he tosses his head back. He’s stifling his own sounds of pleasure, and while you want to hear them so badly, seeing him fight to keep quiet is so fucking hot.

Pulling your mouth off of his tip, you flick your tongue against it while slowing your strokes on his length. You move your lips down onto it, instead, pressing open-mouthed kisses as you go. Harry’s head drops back down to watch you, his eyes glazed over and gorgeous before they wire shut upon you taking one of his balls into your mouth to suck.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He spits out, fighting his lids to stay open, “Fucking love it when you do that.”

You keep at it for a little while, back to rubbing his cock with your hand as you give his balls equal attention by dipping between both until he starts trembling. Your nose grazes the inside of Harry’s thick right thigh as you look up at him while sucking. You haven’t glanced away from him once, not wanting to miss a second of seeing him like this, and he looks determined to keep his focus fixed on you, too.

You pop off of his ball, pressing a quick kiss to it before pulling back with a grin, “You still questioning your choice in hiring me, Mr. Styles?”

“Nope, and I never will again.” He groans and grins, nodding his chin forward next, “Back to work.”

You laugh lightly, loving the banter between you both so much, before snuffing the sound out by taking his cock into your mouth again. Your hands grip the outside of his thighs as you bob your head, sucking his dick with hollowed cheeks.

You inch it down further every time until you’ve got it all the way in. Your nose is nudging against the patch of hair above the base, and his tip is curving down your throat; saliva bubbling in the corners of your stuffed-full mouth.

Harry, with a slack jaw, watches you in complete awe as you hold still, your eyes brimming with tears once more as you start to gag, but you don’t move. You swallow around him, instead, knowing that your throat clamping drives him crazy.

And sure enough, he lets out a groan that reverberates around the car park. One that could make you come again just from hearing it.

“Good fucking girl. Holy shit, that’s it.” Harry hums, his eyes and smile delirious.

You pull back with a gasp, coughing air back into your lungs with a line of saliva tethering your bottom lip to his reddened tip. Harry is quick to wipe your tears away with his thumb before severing the spit string, grinning at you as he does.

“You like gagging on me, baby?”

You hum and nod, stroking his cock for a second before deciding that actions speak louder than words. You’ll show him that you don’t like it, but that you fucking love it.

Repeating the deep throat numerous times has Harry crying, too. You’re given tears of pure bliss as he watches you choke on him while more stream down your own face. The moisture is wiped away by his thumb every time, and his smile only grows more euphoric, too.

“Gonna have me coming any second now.” He raggedly mutters as you collect your breath, your hand stroking his slick, spit-covered cock as you do, “Gonna let me fill your pretty mouth up? Gonna swallow my load like the good slut you are for me?”

“Please, yes, please.” You beg, your voice hoarse and cunt aching for him. You don’t need a second orgasm, though. Getting Harry off is all you want. All you need. It’ll make the throb go away.

He grins, but the sight of it fades. His jaw drops again, instead, because you’ve taken him back into your mouth and you’re sucking him fast and sloppy now. Your eyes are locked as you give him a messy show. Just how he likes it.

You know when Harry’s about to come as much as he does. You’ve made it happen enough times now to understand how his body works, and right now as his breaths grow more choppy, his thighs beneath your hands tremble and his hips start to lightly thrust in and out of your mouth, you can tell he’s really close.

Cupping his balls again, you give them a light squeeze while smirking around his cock. His eyes on yours widen before they’re ecstatically rolling back into his head for a hot second, but they’re soon back to gazing all over your face.

“Gonna take my come, aren’t you? Gonna swallow every last drop?”

You hum as you suck, the only kind of ‘yes’ you can give him. Harry’s happy with it, though, and the vibrations seemingly turn him on as much as your agreement does.

“So fucking good to me. You’re my girl, yeah? All mine.”

You don’t get a second to process that last part before Harry climaxes hard. His come hits the back of your throat in quick, hot spurts; his body shaking and jolting from it happening. You swallow it down while continuing to suck him, broken mewls and moans leaving his plump lips as he releases until there’s nothing more to give.

His hands now on your head pull your mouth off of him before he’s gently urging you to stand up, his mouth meeting yours as soon as you’re on your feet. Your breath is snatched, with sighs and hums of contentment emanating from both of you as your tongues tangle and lips move madly. Harry’s tasting himself there, and you know he loves it.

The kiss slows until an eventual stop, and you can feel Harry's smile against you. His fingers now threaded through your dishevelled hair softly stroke, and your hands resting flat on his chest do the same. His heart beating as fast as yours can be felt beneath your palm.

You detach your mouth that’s smiling as hard as Harry’s, meeting his eyes that soon dance between you own. You have so much to say. So many questions to ask. So many feelings that you want to spill out.

But you’re scared, because for some reason, today feels different to the last three hundred and odd you’ve had since knowing Harry.

You’ve loved getting to know him, loved working with him, loved fucking around with him, loved fucking him, loved the dynamic between you both because it works for you both. No one has ever made me feel as good as Harry does, both in and out of the bedroom. No one has ever made me laugh as much, either. No one has ever cared about you so fiercely. He's forever looking after your best interests and making sure that what you get, in life, is the absolute best.

You know you want more with him, but you’re worried that he doesn’t want more with you. You’re frightened that if you tell him so, you’ll lose what you have. You’ll lose him. You can’t let that happen. You care about him too much, too.

“I’ve been thinking,” Harry speaks up quietly, clearing his throat. There’s a look of nervousness about his features now as he tucks himself away, following that up by pulling up his trousers and buckling his belt, “I think you’re due a promotion.”

You were nervous seeing him look nervous, but now you’re curious and confused. You know it reads all over your furrowed face as you smooth your skirt into place.

“I am?”

“You are.” He nods, taking a deep breath in as he smiles, “It’s actually something that’s long overdue. Something I should have offered you a while ago now. Minute I met you, actually.”

You’re still no further forward in understanding what he means or where he’s going with this, but your lips are closed to let him continue while your heart thuds hard in your chest.

“What would you say if we took things up a notch between us?” Harry asks, his voice careful as though he’s treading precarious waters, “What if you were promoted to… I dunno… be my girlfriend?”

Your jaw drops in complete shock, and he seems to take that as a bad sign. Harry shakes his head fast, now looking embarrassed.

“Wait, no, forget I said th-”

You’re shutting him up with your lips, kissing him with your hands locked around his neck and your face grinning so hard that it aches. You feel Harry exhale surprised laughter through his nose as he kisses you back, his hands against the base of your spine and his lips grinning as equally hard.

Your mouths separate, and he’s blinking rapidly to recalibrate, “Is that a yes?”

You’re close to collapsing not only from how adorable he is, but the fact that he’s asked you out. That he’s wanted the same thing as you for seemingly as long as you have, too. Something that’s long overdue. Something I should have offered you a while ago now. Minute I met you, actually. That’s what he said.

If only you’d both just been a little bit braver, then you could’ve gotten here a lot sooner. You’re glad that Harry took the plunge for the both of you, though. You know now that you’re ready to dive in headfirst, because he’s jumping right in with you.

“No, I just really like kissing you.” You deadpan, with Harry rolling his eyes and snickering at your sass, “Of course it’s a yes! Gotta become the CEO someday, somehow.”

His jaw drops in shock, but he’s soon laughing, “Oh, you money grabbing little-”

“Watch your mouth, boss. That’s no way to talk to your girlfriend.” You wink, throwing your thumb over your shoulder in the direction of the golf clubhouse, “Save the smack talk for in front of them, yeah? We might officially be together now, but I still don’t want people knowing.”

“Agreed.”

Harry’s smile is so wide that you’re surprised he’s got room on his pretty face to fit it all on. His hands now stroke up and down your spine, and his eyes dancing between you own are filled with so much warmth that the sun ought to be jealous.

“Twenty-one holes played and a girlfriend. What a glorious day.”

You laugh and shove at his chest, but Harry grabs your wrists with a chuckle and keeps them in place against him, “So what do we do now?”

“I think it’s only fair that we go out on a date to celebrate, don’t you?” You suggest with a smirk, “Sack off the rest of this team-building day out and sneak off for our own?”

Harry nods and pecks your lips, “Sounds perfect. You got somewhere in mind?”

Stepping out from his hold, you lower yourself to sit on the hood of his car. Harry looks at you the way all women want to be looked at, and you’re feeling like a fool for not having noticed it sooner as much as you feel like an idiot for not knowing that that look meant more than what you just were.

With a smirk on your lips, you give him the same look back as you pat the hood he just fucked you on. He sends you a smirk, picking up on what you’re putting down like he always does. Like he always will. Harry knows you better than you know yourself, and now you’ve got what you hope is a very long time to keep getting to know each other more on so many different levels.

“Drive?” You ask, head cocked and smirk now a grin.

Harry chuckles and nods, leaning down to give you a chaste kiss before leaving his lips to ghost against yours, “Drive.”

519 notes · View notes

honeyangelkiwi · 17 days

Text

DRIVE ME WILD | Part 1

Plot: You, a cart girl, meet CEO of Pleasing Harry Styles at the country club you work at. He's here for a game of golf but after a brief interaction with you, he's left wanting a hell of a lot more.

Sexual Content: spit, dirty talk, fingering (f receiving), and intercourse. For an 18+ audience only. Word Count: 9.8k

Your hands are freezing, but given that today is exceptionally warm, you'll take all the relief you can get. You've got eight hours of pure sunshine ahead of you, so you should really make the most of your hands in ice filling up the cooler for the cart while you can.

Life as a cart girl has its peaks and valleys. You get to be outside a lot, something you love, and the members of the golf club that have become your regulars tip you well, something you love a lot more.

You need the money badly, with student loans piled high, no dream job in marketing as of yet and an apartment that's forever needing fixed, so you work here in New York at Cherry Creek Country Club nine hours a day, six days a week.

It's an easy job that pays good money, which is made better with the generous tips that you try and put away in your savings for a rainy day. You arrive at 8am, spend thirty minutes setting everything up and then you drive onto and around the course where you hang about all day serving refreshments to the players when they need it, talking and charming your way into getting that extra cash.

It's eight hours of that, then thirty minutes to pack everything away, and after that off you drive home in your own car that's on its last legs. A plume of black smoke follows you wherever you go in that damn hunk of junk, but at least that doesn't happen on the course.

You've been a cart girl since your college days that started six years ago, and you've been a graduate for two of those. You studied Business and Marketing at Syracuse, the dream job and goal to land yourself a career in this field by working for a company that's booming. There's a list of them in your mind from doing copious research for not only your studies, but from applying for internships and jobs too.

None of your applications have been successful. You're twenty-four and still here at the course and not some fancy high-rise in New York, but you're a firm believer in everything happening for a reason. You'll get where you need to be eventually when the time is right. The stars will align and all that jazz.

With the cooler full of various drinks both alcoholic and non on ice, you carry the box to your white cart parked up outside. The sun is scorching already, today destined to be fiercely hot.

You're dressed for the weather, with a white polo collared mini sundress on your torso, and your black bum bag clipped around your waist carrying enough change for the hundred dollar bills you'll likely end up with. These players don't carry anything less, but you're used to it now.

Your cart sits parked by the doors outside of the clubhouse, all players passing through there to get onto the course. There's a bar and café inside too, as well as restrooms and lockers, but most members hover in the building after their game; too keen to get started on it.

There's a few people on the course right now, however not too many given it's a Thursday morning. Most of the members will either be at work or doing some other rich guy hobby they have for the day, but you catch the sound of a couple more arrivals walking out of the clubhouse that you now walk towards.

Carrying the heavy cooler, you're too focused on looking at the ground to pay attention to who they are. If they know you and you know them, they'll call you by your name for you to look up, and they'll give you a smile. If they know you well enough, though, they'll know not to bother you. You're a klutz and it's best that you concentrate on not dropping the box full of ice and glass. You've done it more times than you'd like to admit.

With your eyes to the grey and cream gravel crunching beneath your white sneakers, it's not until the last second that you hear another set of footsteps right in front of you do you look up.

You're a few too late, though. The cooler box and your hands holding it meet a torso that bounces back harshly from the bashing, just like you do.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, sir!" You rush out as you regain your balance and look around in panic, praying your boss isn't around to see that, "I wasn't watching where I was walking and I-"

Your mouth snaps shut the moment you finish your quick glance of checking to see if your manager is lurking in any nearby surroundings, because you've been met by the prettiest smile you've ever seen. One that belongs to none other than Harry Styles.

You haven't seen his face here before, but you know it. You know him. He's the CEO of Pleasing, a cosmetics company that started up and took off to incredible highs in your last year of college.

Mr. Styles became a multi-millionaire within the first few months of him launching the business. They sell an array of products and apparel that have a chokehold on so many, and the success of that has put him in good standing with some of the titans of the beauty industry that have been in the game for years.

You'd applied for an internship at Pleasing straight out of college, wanting nothing more than to get involved with such a successful business that sold products and had a message that you adored. You never did hear back, an understandable thing in this world, but you were still a little salty about it.

That hasn't stopped you from buying a new product any time they do their quarterly launches, though...

He straightens himself up from the bump and laughs a little. Whether that reaction is from your garbled apology or the fact you've closed your mouth with invisible duct tape, you're not sure.

"No apologies necessary, love. I wasn't watching where I was going either." His voice is calm, his accent raspy and British. Your kryptonite.

Harry steps to the side and creates a path for you, his hand gentlemanly gesturing out for you to walk by with his smile just as bright and pretty as it was before, "To prevent another calamity."

You feel your skin burning up under his intense gaze, eye contact clearly something he's great at as well as being so damn good looking. You're nodding and walking by before he can clock on to the fact your face is as pink as the beanie on his head, desperate to keep some semblance of dignity in tact.

Reaching the cart, you set the cooler in its slot ready to unpack but talk yourself into turning around first, convinced that there'll be a large enough distance between you both now that Harry won't see you looking. He won't see you either because he himself won't have turned around. He's here for a game of golf.

Your theories prove wrong on both counts. Harry can see you, and he is turned around; his grin bright and eyes somehow piercing even thirty or so yards away.

He's at the tee-off with his white glove-covered hand gripping the handle of his club — something that he uses like a cane to prop himself up while he waits for his caddy, who busies themselves sorting out his bag — and he simply stares. It's not lewd or gross. It doesn't give you the ick.

It does make you fly back around fast though, any more movements from you stopped. It's like you're in Jurassic Park, and you're listening to the wise words of sexy Sam Neill telling you to stay still so the T-Rex doesn't eat you.

Not that you'd mind in this case...

You decide the best thing to do is to pretend you haven't seen him at all, that there's been no incident whatsoever. You've got a job to do and while that job probably means you'll probably see him again shortly if he wants a drink or a snack, you can put your game face on and get through it. Right?

"Excuse me, ma'am?"

Wrong.

Your body runs both hot and cold at the sound of Harry calling on you. You didn't hear footsteps, obviously too caught up in talking to yourself to listen.

You do know that there's no one else around, though. You're the only cart girl on until Alyssa comes in at 1pm, and everyone else is either on the course or in the clubhouse.

You turn around slowly, your fingers and toes are internally crossed that there is someone else around that he's asking for and you're simply oblivious to them, but as your shitty luck today would have it, there isn't. It's just you and Harry and from the way he looks at you, he's happy that that's the case.

"I'm sorry to bother you, I know you're busy setting up." He oozes charm and charisma, your body stiff from panic relaxing like you're living in an oasis of lavender and vanilla.

It's what he smells like, too; two average scents that are anything but that emanating from him, "I left my water bottle in my car. Any chance you could open up for me, please?"

You choke on the breath you didn't realise you were holding, Harry's eyes widening a little as you cough a couple of times, "Excuse me?"

"The cart." He gestures his non-glove wearing hand to the vehicle behind you, the body part large and ring-clad with prettily painted nails, "Do you mind if I buy a drink?"

Realisation dawns, your mind leaving the gutter it had slipped down into, "Oh. Of course, yeah. Right away, sir."

You turn around again fast, feeling Harry's eyes watch you as you move around to reach for the cooler. You don't have everything set up properly yet, so he'll have to make do with what you've currently got.

"Sir isn't necessary, ma'am." He speaks up, your movements paused. You face him again and find his eyes flitting up from god knows where, but they land on your own and crinkle sweetly thanks to his smile, "My name's Harry."

Your stomach swarms from not only the politeness he gives by calling you ma'am, the word sounding so much hotter with his accent, but from hearing him say his own name, too. Harry. It suits him, but he's got the kind of face where any name would. He'd make it his.

You gesture to your name badge, Harry's eyes reading the black writing against the gold background, "Ma'am isn't necessary either."

He meets your gaze again, and your own smile now appears which he seems to like. You step to the side and gesture to the cooler sitting open, your attention on it now.

"I've not got the cart ready yet, but I can promise whatever you choose will taste just as good as if it was."

"I bet." He hums, a hint of something in his tone now as he steps forward until he's right by your side, looking into the box as well, "What would a woman of your expertise recommend on a day as gorgeously warm as this?"

You glance at the bottles, all of them a bit of a blur because he pays them no mind now. You can feel Harry staring at you, patiently waiting for an answer, but you're stumped. Harry has you stunned; six years of this job flying out the window to the point where you feel like a newbie. Actually no, you feel like a damn schoolgirl with a crush.

"I'd lose the beanie and jumper for a start." You give him the side-eye and blurt out, wishing your lips were still sealed like they were before.

Harry doesn't though, not from the way he laughs loudly. The sound is rich and earthy and enough to make you join in, too. He's just got one of those laughs. It's as contagious as his smile, a smile you now can't help but give your undivided attention to.

"Don't you like them?" He faux pouts, his tone teasing.

You look at the hot pink woolly beanie on his head, finding a few chocolate curls poking beneath the rolled-up brim that look soft and sweet, before flitting your eyes to the grandad-style jumper on his lean torso; a mix of different shades of brown with rolled up sleeves and a white polo shirt worn underneath.

They're simple pieces, pieces that shouldn't really go, but they do. Harry makes them work so much so you're contemplating running out to buy the same things to wear together yourself, although you know they wouldn't look quite so good on you, nor anyone else who would try to emulate his look.

"They're alright. Not quite golfing-in-the-peak-of-summer appropriate, though." You shrug, just as surprised as Harry is by your sudden burst of confident cheekiness.

Harry clicks his tongue as he gives you a half-smile, the sight as cheeky as your shrug was, "And what would be appropriate?"

Nothing you’re thinking about.

"You're asking a cart girl for fashion advice?"

He shrugs now, his arm rising to rest on top of the cart's roof as he looks down at you through lidded eyes; his smile lazy, "Why wouldn't I when you've done such a stunning job on yourself?"

Well, this has taken a turn.

You open your mouth, but close it again, repeating this a few more times until Harry laughs lightly and you're broken out of the daze. He's still looking at you, his eyes roaming the length of your body unabashedly, and it's making you squirm.

"Weren't you thirsty?" You accuse, feeling the need to get him his drink and get him away playing his game before you do or say something that will get you in trouble.

Harry nods, his bottom lip hiding behind his front teeth released with a pop and into a smirk.

“I was. I am more than ever now." He nudges his chin towards the cooler, not severing eye contact with you an ounce, "I'll take a Corona, please."

You nod and take out a cold bottle, popping the cap with a bottle opener that's attached to the keychain on your bumbag, "It's five o'clock somewhere, right?"

"I'm feeling risky today." He winks with his grin still intact, soon fishing in the back pocket of his navy slacks for his wallet.

He pulls out a hundred dollar bill and extends it your way. You take it with a smile, unzipping your bag to grab his change.

"Keep it." You look up to find the bottle top paused at his lips, a firm but friendly look in his eye that tells you not to argue, "For the fashion advice..."

His reasoning makes you smirk, but watching Harry now take a sip makes that expression fade fast. Your focus instead hones in on the way his plush, pink lips purse around the top of the bottle, how his sharp jaw tightens as he drinks from it, the way the veins in his neck pop as he swallows down the freezing liquid, and the refreshing gasp he makes as he pulls the glass from his mouth that's back to smirking; his eyes running the length of you once more.

"...And the show."

Harry pushes off the cart with a grin, not another word spoken as he saunters back to the tee-off; leaving you without any, too. You don't think you'll ever be able to speak again. You can barely think straight.

You do know one thing, though, and it's that this day just got a lot hotter.

... LATER

Your theory proved correct. Today has been hotter than ever.

It's got nothing to do with the sun in the sky. No, the heat is all thanks to Harry that, when given the chance and close proximity, has not stopped smirkingly looking you up and down.

You both haven't spoken again since this morning, and he thankfully hasn't approached you for another beer or any drink at all. There's been a healthy distance kept between you both, respite found when you'd drive the cart off to a few holes ahead or behind him to check on the players there.

But the tension would only grow whenever you'd come close to whichever number he was at, finding him the same as you left him. Staring and smirking.

You've ended up stumped whenever you've caught him looking your way, so lost for words and in such a daze that you accidentally crushed a water bottle that you'd just opened for one of the players. Liquid spilled out and covered both you and the disgruntled man who asked for it.

Harry, at the tee of the ninth hole where you were parked up, had his driver in hand ready to take a shot. He simply snickered watching you flap over cleaning up the mess you'd made before he looked forward and took his turn. You just knew he was still grinning as he did it, though.

Your face was on fire and your apology to the water-covered man never ending. You were so embarrassed and it was all Harry's fault. If he'd just kept his eyes ahead on the game at all times rather than you trying to work, it wouldn't have happened.

Yet now as you sit in your cart at the eighteenth and final hole, you're the one looking forward, finding none other than Harry and his caddy sauntering over to take his final shot.

They talk quietly between themselves, a genuine and friendly conversation seemingly had, which is surprising to you. Most players don't give their caddies the time of day, but Harry laughs and smiles with his; eyes closed cutely with crinkles as he does, pearly whites on full display and dimples popping.

Harry still wears his beanie and jumper, the fact that it's eighty degrees not affecting him in the least, it seems. There's not an ounce of sweat to be seen. In fact, his skin is flawless and unbothered by the hot rays pounding down.

You don't know how he hasn't worked up one from the game, either. He and his caddy have walked to every hole as opposed to using a buggy, and you've watched him swing a club, too. Harry doesn't half put his all into it, especially when it comes to using his driver.

The way his muscles could somehow be seen flexing under the thick layer of his jumper as he smacked the ball as far across the green as possible, the correct posture he had and held as he looked to see the distance he managed to get it to - which was always somehow just the right amount - and the well-pleased smile on his face when he realised he'd nailed it... fuck, you were sweating just from watching him.

Harry's eyes meet yours as he climbs up the small embankment, the head of the club in his hand and his arm swinging back and forth a little. He grins and nods your way when he spots you again.

You look away as fast as possible, once more squirming from the eye contact. You need to get it the fuck together. There's no way he won't come over and say something to you once he's done; the constant looking and smiles sent your way the past few hours telling you so. It's almost your lunch break. Maybe you can drive off before he gets the chance?

His caddy now hands him his putter. You drop your head, your fingers bent as though you're inspecting your nails, and watch Harry get into position out of the corner of your eye.

He does it expertly, his hands gripping all the right places, with his feet planted firmly into the ground and his attention directly above the ball; eyes flitting between it and the final hole.

Yet as he pulls the club back, he doesn't look where he should. Harry, instead, turns his head and watches you as he swings the iron forward. He taps the ball with just the right amount of pressure; a hole-in-one scored without even looking, and a cocky smirk worn from knowing that just happened.

It's now even hotter than it was before. He's even hotter than he was before, if that's possible.

Your plan to drive off before he could make his way over is null and void now. You're frozen, and he's fast. Harry is barely handing the putter back to the caddy, nodding his chin for him to head off without him along with some muttered words spoken before he's walking over to you.

What should you say? What should you do? You just want him to go away before you say or do something stupid.

"You were right." Harry speaks up, the distance between you both no more as he stops at the cart and rests his arm on top of the roof, just like this morning, and looks down at you.

Staying still isn't gonna help you this time.

You turn your head and look up, the sun blocked out thanks to his body. Beams of it frame his figure gloriously as his smile shines down at you, instead.

"Right about what?"

"The outfit. Definitely wasn't golfing-in-the-height-of-summer appropriate."

You shrug your shoulders, your whole being relaxing thanks to that smile, "Didn't look like you were struggling."

"You were looking?" Harry throws back fast, his eyes glinting with mischief.

You give him a deadpan expression, "Fishing for validation at, what age are you?"

"Twenty-eight." He answers without missing a beat, your stomach swirling and thighs tightening from confidence in his tone. You'd forgotten what snarky comment you were going to make.

"You've done well for yourself at a relatively young age." You smirk, your body pulsing at the way Harry bites his lip to stifle a laugh.

He releases it with a pop, his eyebrow perking up and grin gleaming, "You know who I am?"

"I do. Better yet, I interviewed for an internship at Pleasing fresh out of college two years ago."

"Really?" Harry's other brow joins the first one raised, a look of complete surprise on his face now. You nod, but his head shakes slowly as he blows out a low whistle, "Someone on my team fucked up not hiring you then, didn't they?"

Your cheeks grow warm again, your thighs clenching together more than before while Harry simply grins, "What was your pitch?"

Fuck. You didn't think he'd ask you that.

"I don't wanna say."

His smirk only grows, a hand now resting on his hip as he eyes you up, "Why not?"

You’re feeling flustered and panicked. You and your big fucking mouth. Why the hell did you open it?

"Because it obviously wasn't a good one if I didn't get hired."

"Try me."

You huff a frustrated sigh, "You're not gonna let this go, are you?"

Harry shakes his head, "You don't get to be CEO of a multi-million dollar company by doing that, darling."

You weigh up your options, finding no good outcome. If you drive, you run over his foot and lose your job. If you tell him to fuck off, which you absolutely wouldn't, you'll get screamed at by your boss and lose your job. If you tell him, you'll never be able to show your face here again if he plans on making this his regular club. You'd have to quit, but at least that way you could do it on your own terms and without a potential lawsuit from breaking Harry Styles' foot. You really don't have the money for lawyers.

Going with the lesser of the three evils seems to be the only way out. It's an embarrassing end to an already embarrassing day.

"I suggested a Valentine's Day collection," your voice is quiet, but Harry hears you clearly. His eyes have widened already, his smirk still intact as he stops tapping his hip with his index finger, "and that the company name of Pleasing could and should, um- capitalise on that."

Harry's smirk shifts into a grin that is enough to give the Cheshire cat a run for its money, and he lightly laughs to himself, "So you're the one that suggested sex toys?"

"I'm the only one?!" You ask, eyes wide with horror and body cringing as you die inside from complete humiliation.

"Afraid so, love." He chuckles, running his tongue across his bottom lip that your focus hones in on, "I liked the idea. Was all for it too."

And just like that, something has shifted between you both. You don't feel embarrassed, at least not enough to want to die anymore. Not when his tone sounds piqued and a little promiscuous; the flirty energy from this morning back in full force.

You swallow hard under his intense stare, a conversation had between you both with just a look. Is he thinking what you're thinking? Is he feeling what you're feeling, too?

"It's a shame Pleasing hasn't branched out into that field." You find yourself somehow saying, the air growing hotter and thicker with each word spoken, "You'd make a killing."

"Yeah?"

You nod, with Harry's smirk coming closer towards you now as he leans down a little more. His hand is still on the roof, arm stretched straight as he looks up at you through long lashes, "Can I ask you something? You don't have to answer it if it's too personal."

You shrug, swallowing your nerves down again as curiosity floods you, "Sure. Fire away. I'm an open book."

"You've got a degree in, let me guess... Business?"

"Mhm." You clear your throat. Your mouth is dry again, no moisture left whatsoever, "And marketing."

Harry's brows rise like he's impressed, his smile showing it too, "Clever girl."

A shudder runs through you from his words before he purses his lips. Your eyes naturally fall to look at them while your mind runs to think about how they'd feel, about what they can do...

"You obviously know what you're talking about, and you had an idea if you pitched it to my company." He murmurs, your heart going hard in your chest in wonder of where he's going with this while his eyes flash dangerously from knowing where he's going with this, "So please... indulge me. What kind of toys should Pleasing look into selling?"

His question makes you internally combust. What is happening? How did we get here? On the outside you're calm, but you're screaming on the inside.

You wet you lips a little, with Harry's eyes falling to watch your tongue do so before he's back to patiently looking at you. The pale green shade of his eyes is diminishing by the second; a forest hue replacing it that tells you he's feeling as feral as you are.

"Um, vibrators?"

"You said it like it's a question when I was looking for an answer." Harry grins, his expression and response, along with what you've just said, causing you to blush hard, "Is that something you like to use, darling?"

Before you can stop myself, you're nodding. You're too caught up in him and too turned on to not.

But all that does is make Harry grin harder, his chin cockily nudging my way, "Do you prefer external or internal?"

Christ almighty.

"External." You manage to utter, an out of body experience practically happening.

"So clit stimulation?" He asks you with total confidence, no waver in his voice or squeamish nature to it. It's authoritative and absolutely arousing.

You nod again, a whimper leaving your lips that he picks up on. It makes his whole face beam upon hearing the sound, "Is that something that you need, love?"

"Yes." The one word is spoken so fast that a person would miss it if they weren't listening intently.

Harry was, though. He was ready and waiting for it.

He purses his lips again, his eyes squinting like he's contemplating something. You simply watch him with a racing heart, your breath growing fast and choppy, and your cunt now throbbing.

"I'm feeling terrible that you weren't hired at Pleasing, especially with such an incredible pitch given." Harry speaks out after a few seconds, your cheeks feeling so warm that you just know they're the same colour as his beanie, "Can I make it up to you?"

His face has inched even closer to yours now, his hand dropped from his hip and resting on the space of white leather seat by your hip. You feel dizzy. Delirious. Drunk on him.

The fact that you're at work and you're both on the golf course right now only adds to how turned on you are but the main driving force for your arousal is Harry and his charming, gorgeous, lustful ways. You need him. You need him more than you've ever needed anything or anyone before.

"Please."

Harry groans a little, the space between your mouths closing some more. His breath smells like mint, and his lips look divine while giving you an open-mouthed grin as he looks down at you; your head tilting back as though acting on instinct.

"What do you need, hm? What can I do?"

"Kiss me. Touch me." You gulp, a fire blazing in your chest, stomach and cunt that only Harry can douse, "Fuck me. Please, sir."

The 'sir’ slipped out and you feel yourself growing shy, but it's a feeling that's snuffed out fast. Harry's eyes have darkened further and he groans softly again.

His hand on the seat comes up to cradle beneath your jaw while pushing your head further back, too. He grins deviously at you, eyes bouncing between your own before they fall to your lips that are parted and panting, ready for him.

"As you wish, ma'am."

You don't have time to register the words rolling off of Harry's tongue because he's pushing it into your mouth now and teasing your own in slow, languish movements. The connection forces delicate moans from both of you that are caught by one another.

Harry withdraws his, closing both of his lips around your top one slowly. They're as soft and sweet as they look.

His thumb traces your skin as he kisses you, every action screaming expertise. Harry knows what he's doing, you can tell already, and it's enough to make you hungry for more.

Your hands fly up to grip the back of his neck, the soft cotton collar of his polo shirt brushing against your fingers as you dig them in and part your lips for more. Harry gives you his tongue again, entwining it with yours with as much need as you entwine yours with his.

The embrace is messy, with mouths moving sloppily until you're nothing but clashing teeth and heavy breaths. It's so fucking hot.

He's dominant with every move he makes, and you let him be. The way he holds your face and explores your mouth at his own leisure, and with so much desire, too... that's what gets you off.

You can't help but whimper and whine, noises that cause Harry to smirk against your lips. The feeling of his curving up as they kiss you does nothing but make you even wetter.

Harry leaves your lips alone for a second, your mouth glossy and swollen chasing after his own while he presses chaste kisses to the corner of it instead, "Get out the cart, darling. The side away from me."

You don't hesitate, shuffling along to the right-hand side like instructed until your feet meet the grass and you're standing up dizzily. You smooth down your dress and unclip your bumbag, tossing it onto the seat while you track Harry's sleek movements as he walks around the front of the cart to join you.

The eighteenth hole is at the end of the course with nothing but trees behind and to the sides. It's private, especially with the cart blocking you both. No one would know either of you were here unless they needed to play the hole and as far as you remember, the player that arrived after Harry is four or five holes behind. You have time.

Harry looks at you like you're a dessert and he's been dieting, his eyes hungrily trailing up from your feet to your face. He keeps walking until he's right in front of you, but he doesn't stop there.

His steps force you to back up until your back hits the cool metal of the cart that's been in the shade. His hands splay against it either side of your head, caging you in while he smirks down at you.

"Someone really did fuck up not hiring you. You do so well following orders." Harry hums, his voice deeper and more delicious sounding than ever before.

You can't help but whine again, your thighs squeezed together to settle the ever growing throb in your cunt. You can feel how soaked you are; insane amounts of arousal pooled in your underwear all thanks to Mr. Styles.

"Is that something you like to do, darling?" He presses, lapping at his bottom lip while you bite yours to stop yourself from moaning loudly, "Follow orders?"

"Yes." You quip quickly, your voice strained and so full of want. You know he can hear it.

He confirms it as he grins, his chin tilting down until his lips are teasingly mere millimetres from your own, "Be a good girl and take your panties off for me, then."

You don't hesitate, your fingers making fast work of slipping under your skirt and hooking around the sides of your white lace thong. You pull it down your legs, kicking the fabric out from your feet with Harry's hungry eyes on you all the while. He jerks his chin forward again, lips ghosting yours once more.

"Spread your legs, baby."

You comply quickly, but parting your legs only worsens the pulse in your cunt from the loss of pressure there. The cool air hits your hot skin, your thighs tense and damp with arousal coating your skin an almost embarrassing amount.

What has this man done to you?

Harry teases you with his lips a couple of times, moving his head as though he's going to wrap his own around your top one for another kiss, but he pulls back every time they brush until you're left whining.

"Please."

With another open-mouthed grin, his bottom lip drags against your own, "Again."

"Fuck- Harry." You're a breathless mess, desperate and close to screaming from how badly you need him, "Please, please, please."

Your pleas win him over as he smashes his mouth against yours again, your hands once more locking around his neck while his come down to grip your hips as he kisses you deeply. He pins them to the cart as his own press to your stomach; a bulge in his slacks so thick, hard and large felt against it that has you gasping.

He pulls his hips away from you, his lips separating from yours, too. You moan for more, which only makes him grin.

Harry drops his hold on one of your hips and snakes it between your parted legs, the body part disappearing under the skirt of your dress. His fingers start to make a teasing trail up the inside of your thigh, your breaths growing choppier the closer he comes to your cunt.

Upon the pads of his fingers now lazily running through your drenched folds, there's a sharp intake of breath from you at the incredible feeling and relief his tender, teasing touch gives, and a guttural groan from him.

"Fuck, you're so wet, darling." He coos, your hands gripping the collar of his shirt tighter, "Such a messy girl. Who did this to you, hm?"

Harry watches your every expression, grinning hard as he waits for you to speak as he soaks his fingers. They move up to touch your clit, the place you need touched the most.

Just before either of those things can happen, he snatches his hand away fast. The loudest, most pathetic whine from you yet is heard, which only makes Harry smirk harder than ever.

He brings his fingers between you both, the pads glistening with your arousal that he eyes up before turning his attention back to you.

"So pretty. Looks so sweet, too. Wanna taste yourself for me, darling?" You nod fast, your needy reaction making Harry grin as he jerks his chin, "Good answer from a good girl. Tongue out."

You part your lips to do as he asked, Harry teasing the tip of your tongue with a tap of his index finger before he's sliding it into your mouth along with his middle one. You close your lips around them and suck, and the taste of your juices on his skin is incredible.

"Do you taste as sweet as you look?" He asks, eyes glazed over and jaw a little slack from watching you work his digits.

You smirk around his fingers before he slides them out, "Open your mouth and you'll find out."

Harry parts his own lips now, bending his knees a little until he's eye level with you. He tips his chin in the air ready for what you're about to do, and you give him it in the form of a string of saliva leaving your lips to drop onto his waiting tongue.

It pools on the tip, the sight as hot as the action and his compliance. You don't hesitate to slam your mouth against his now, turning the tables slightly. Harry's breath hitches as you messily twirl your tongue around his own, both of them covered in the faint taste of your arousal and a mix of your salivas.

A deep moan from you is caught by his mouth upon him once more slipping his fingers to run between your drenched folds, with Harry making fast work in giving your clit the attention it so desperately needed. There's no edging now, the pads of his digits pressing down on the sensitive bud and circling slowly; your hips bucking, legs shaking and hands around his neck vice-like as you pant hard.

Your head feels so light from him working you over with his fingers on your clit and tongue in your mouth; everything so perfect and carnal. His hand on your hip still grips the area fiercely, nails biting into your skin as he picks up speed and delivers more pressure to your slick pearl.

Harry's lips leave your own to trail sloppy kisses along your cheek, down to your jaw and onto your neck; your head tilting to the left to give him all the room he wants to mark you up however he wants.

His teeth nip at the area as he slides away from your clit to your hole, teasing there with slow circles, too. You're moaning loud as he sucks at your skin, nodding in a desperate bid for more.

"Fuck. Keep going, Harry. Please."

He shows mercy, no demand for more pleas. With complete ease thanks to your wetness, Harry slides two ring-clad fingers inside your cunt, your walls stretching to allow the welcome intrusion before hugging them fiercely once you're filled to the hilt and he's knuckle deep.

Pulling his mouth from your neck, Harry's hazy eyes meet your equally hazy ones. He's standing tall again, looking down at you with a smirk that has you as wet and weak as his fingers do, and just watches as you fall apart from his digits stuffing you full.

"Need to see what pretty faces you're gonna make. I just know they're gonna be gorgeous." He coos, pulling his fingers out slowly, "You ready to make more of a mess of my fingers?"

You're nodding deliriously, your stomach swarming with butterflies. Harry grins before he's pressing a sweet kiss to your nose, his thumb coming up to press against your almost-too-sensitive clit.

"Good girl."

Your walls are quick to clench around him as he sinks them back in at an angle; the tips hitting your g-spot. He strokes the sweet spongy zone as his thumb circles your clit, the perfect amount of pressure in both spots making you see stars.

But upon Harry pausing both things to instead fuck his fingers in and out of you fast, the heel of his hand hitting your clit with every quick thrust, you stop seeing stars. You float amongst them now, your knees buckling, eyelids lulling and jaw practically snapped off.

Harry doesn't relent his pace, nor does he stop watching you. You can feel his gaze burning hot as he watches your every ecstatic expression, his looking awe-inspired and amazed. You could come just from looking at him and how determined he is to make you feel good, which he absolutely is.

Your loud and broken moans hit the hot summer air. The sound echoes faintly in the trees around us, harmonising with the wetness of your arousal around his fingers that relentlessly fuck you.

"You look so fucking pretty." He grins lazily, blown-out eyes roaming every bit of your face in complete admiration as his thumb traces soothing circles on your hip, "Am I fucking you good, baby?"

You nod and whimper, "Yes. So fucking good, Harry. The best."

"Come for me then." He drawls, eyes darkening more as he arrogantly jerks his chin your way, "Be a good girl and come for me."

True to the form of following Harry's orders so far, you do it again. The knot in your lower stomach unravels fast, your climax hitting hard as you clamp around his fingers; fingers you know you've soaked.

He doesn't slow them down, continuing to fuck them into you fast to get you through your high, the heel of his hand hitting you hardened clit every single time. You can feel your release run down your legs; legs that tremble from the orgasm that barrels through every bit of you like a freight train.

Harry watches your facial expressions, reading them like a craft to be perfected. He slows his fingers as your high fades away, bringing them to an eventual stop before moving his lips to press against yours softly.

Kissing you gently, he slowly withdraws his digits until you're whimpering into his mouth over how empty you feel, wishing they were back inside you already.

His lips also leave yours, more whines from you followed up from missing them already, too. Harry laughs through his nose, a smirk stretching his face as he brings his fingers to your mouth. He hovers the pads over the plump area while eyeing you up, asking for permission before connecting the two parts.

You give him a needy nod and with that, Harry closes the gap. He gives his undivided attention to your mouth that he smears your juices over, coating the area with your arousal like its lipgloss.

"Are we even yet?" He asks you, his tone rugged as much as it is light and playful as he pulls your bottom lip down, revealing your teeth for a second before letting it spring back into place, "Have I made it up to you?"

You roll your lips into your mouth until they're clean of your come, releasing them into a grin as you shake your head, "Getting there."

Harry grins, too; the answer he was hoping for received. You look down between your bodies, finding both of his hands on your hips now still pinned against the cart, and his cock straining against his slacks begging for some attention as well.

He catches your eyes when you look up at him through your lashes, giving you a tut as you give him a giggle, "You're trouble, aren't you?"

Shrugging nonchalantly, you slip your hands from around his neck to the sides of it until they're beneath the collar of his shirt. Every part of his outfit is still intact, beanie included.

While you'd give anything to see him naked, the mystery of what that looks like is such a turn on for you. Pair the unknown with the fact that you're both outdoors, where you work, and too desperate for each other to properly undress, that only makes this whole thing hotter. You love it.

"I asked you to fuck me, and you agreed." You throw back, your thumbs grazing along the slightly stubbled part of his neck as you give him doe-eyes and a pout, "Just wanna make sure you're a man of your word."

Harry cocks his head back, his brow raised as he runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek, "Didn't I just give you a fucking with my fingers?"

"You did." You bring your lips to the corner of his, his facial hair tickling your skin, "but I need another from the cock of Mr. Harry Styles. C-" You kiss his cheek, his breath hitching, "E-" another kiss to the other cheek, to which Harry exhales shakily, "O."

He slams his lips against yours before you can do it to him, your breath snatched and the back of your head lightly hitting the metal of the cart as his hands greedily roam every inch of your torso. Your back arches into his palms when he roughly cups and squeezes your tits before he's trailing them up to your face, gripping your chin harshly and tilting it up to deepen the kiss even more.

You can feel how hard Harry is from where his thick, pulsing cock is pressed against your stomach. It makes you wetter than you already are, with more arousal pooling upon him pulling his hips back to make hasty work on undoing his metal belt buckle and the button of his slacks.

He moans into your mouth after taking out his cock. His unconfined length nudges against you as he fishes through his pocket where a foil wrapper is soon heard; finding the condom he was looking for.

Harry separates the kiss, giving you a wink and showing you a smirk before he's looking down at the rubber in his hand. You watch his ring-clad fingers work to open the packaging, but your attention deviates further south.

With his jumper and shirt bunched up at his hips, you catch a peak of two fern tattoos inked there above two deep v-lines. The sight of both things makes you clench around nothing, your mouth filling up with saliva from thoughts of running your tongue over the art and area.

You're zoned in on his cock in no time, though, his trousers and underwear pulled down just enough to free it. His pretty pink tip leaks pre-come and rests against his toned lower stomach and the happy trail there. Prominent veins run up and down the silky length that stands thick and rock solid; his balls full, heavy-looking and begging to be in your mouth.

Harry now rolls the clear condom down onto his cock, a hiss leaving his swollen lips from the touch before he's giving you his blown out gaze again the second he's wrapped up. You give him yours, too; a newfound hunger existing in both of us.

Harry nudges his chin towards you, a half-smile worn and his dimple popping, "Turn around for me, baby."

You do so with a held breath, the anticipation and arousal killing you. You can feel Harry's eyes trail the length of you again, his focus honing in on your ass.

"Arch your back for me and lift your skirt up."

You comply again, both hands gripping and pulling the hem to show him what he wants to see; your ass and cunt. You look over your shoulder, catching him squeezing his cock with a slack jaw.

"Use your hands to show me your tight little holes."

Once more, you do as you're told, with Harry taking in a sharp breath at the sight of you displaying yourself. His eyes meet yours after taking their time to greedily gaze, a grin stretching his face.

"Fucking perfect."

There was a small gap between you both, but it's fully closed now as Harry presses himself against you. Your hands and forearms rest against the cart, your ass pushed out and heart racing as every inch of his cock can be felt brushing over your ass.

Harry situates himself to hold your skirt up with one hand that he keeps on the base of your spine, and the other to grab his cock that he lines up with your cunt. He dips his tip inside before withdrawing and sliding his silky length between your sodden folds, your breath stuttering along with his own as he does it over and over again; the torment of the tease turning you both on even more.

He presses down on the bottom of your back a little more, making you arch and push your ass out even further. You open your mouth to beg for him to stop with the taunting, but a guttural groan comes out instead upon him sinking into you entirely in one slow but sharp roll of his hips.

Your breath is knocked from your lungs as his thickness stretches you out, the mess he's caused allowing him to slide in with complete ease. Harry's own breath is choked and broken, his forehead dropping to rest between your shoulder blades once he's all way in; every inch of him feeling fucking incredible.

"Jesus fuck- God, you're so fucking wet and tight." He speaks through gritted teeth, his now free right hand reaching out to press on top of your own against the cart, "Feels so good."

You nod and whimper, you mind fogged over, "So fucking good."

His lips pucker against your back, a sweet kiss delivered before he's pulling his head away and bringing his chin to tuck itself between your neck and shoulder. You can feel his grin against your skin as he pulls out slowly, your mouth dropping into an O-shape as your brow furrows.

Harry leaves nothing but the tip in, teasing you for a few more seconds before he's slamming his hips back forward. Your centres connect harshly; the cart rattling.

He does it over and over again until tears spring from your eyes. Every withdrawal makes you whine, and every thrust shuts up any sound that could happen. They catch in your throat while he grunts and groans freely, his grin never letting up either.

His cock hits deep, your g-spot massaged perfectly with his tip, but you need more. You need it faster. Harder. Rougher.

"More." You croak out, Harry's hips in the middle of pulling out again, "Please, Harry. Give me more."

"More?" He throws back fast, "I'm giving you every inch, darling. You're gonna have to be more specific than that."

He knows what you mean, what you want, but he's a tease. He wants you to say it. He wants you to beg for it.

You'll never be above doing it. Not with him.

"Fuck me hard, sir. Give it to me fast and rough." You plead, your pussy fluttering around his cock, "Give me more."

You melt at the feeling of his lips pressing a kiss to the space of skin beneath your lobe, the area taken between his teeth nipping it lightly next, "Good girl. Much better."

And with that, he's slamming his cock back into you hard, no slow withdrawal coming after it like it did before. It's all fast. All rough. He's fucking you as mercilessly as you wanted.

Harry pulls his head away from the crook of your neck and leans back a little, taking his hand off the top of yours to grab your hip. You can feel him looking down to where his cock fucks in and out of you, his hips bruising your ass that ripples from every hit they give.

The sounds of your bodies continue to echo, your legs trembling and your whole body tingling. You feel so dizzy in the best way, an open-mouthed grin on your own lips as you toss your head back while Harry pounds into you with all he has.

"Taking me so fucking well, baby. Every fucking inch. God, you drive me wild." He drawls, sounding drunk on lust for you like you are for him, "Looks so fucking good. You're soaking me, too. Messy girl."

You know that's the truth, because you can feel it as much as you can hear it. Your arousal is slick around his length, the sounds practically pornographic. The whole situation is.

Harry kicks it up a gear when his hand on your hip snakes around to your front, the fingers he used to fuck you before now making fast work of circling your clit. You aimlessly claw at the metal while your body jolts from the feeling, your ass pushing back to meet his sharp strokes; his body's only mission being to get you to come hard again.

You're seeing stars once more, your mind swimming with pure euphoria. The second knot in your stomach is close to coming undone.

"Shit, fuck-" He pants, your walls clamping around his cock, "Hugging me so tight. 'm not gonna last."

"So don't." You moan, rocking your hips with a little bit of skill and thought to make him feel as good as you do, "Come for me, Harry. Need you to come for me, please. Give it to me."

After a few more circles to your now oversensitive clit and his cock hitting all the right places, your orgasm barrels through you. It hits so hard, your pussy practically pushing him out from the force of it.

That doesn't deter him, but spurs him on. Harry powers through it, grunting and groaning as you gush around him. You can feel your climax coating your thighs, his own approaching. You can tell by his strokes that are starting to stutter.

He sees you through your high, though, his fingers leaving your clit to grip your chin. Harry turns your head to smash his lips against yours, catching every broken moan and whimper you give him.

It's not long before you're catching every sweet and sexy noise he makes as he unravels. His hips still harshly against your ass as he spills his loads into the condom, his whole body seizing and lips against yours shifting into a smile of pure ecstasy.

You bring a hand to stretch over your head, grabbing the back of his neck as he swims with the stars like you still do. Your fingers stroke the slightly sweaty skin at the nape where his damp curls tickle; your own grin growing, too.

Harry comes down from his climax as you finish your own, lazy kisses given to each other with soft hums of exhilarated exhaustion. You can't believe that just happened. What you just did, how good it was, where you did it and who you did it with is something you'll never forget.

You separate and pull your head back, taking in Harry's freshly fucked-out face. There's a sheen of sweat over his skin now, perspiration never looking so good as he practically glows.

His lips are pinker than ever, glossy and swollen from the kisses. They're lifted at the corners thanks to his giddy smile, the expression creasing the corner of his eyes that are still shut; his long lashes that you find myself envious of fanning across the high points of his peachy cheeks. He's so fucking pretty, and you're crushing hard than ever.

"I think now's as good a time as any for you to finally give up the beanie and jumper."

Your tease has Harry's eyes fluttering open, a throaty chuckle given. His gaze dances all over your face before he's tutting, "That's no way to talk to your boss."

"I'm sorry?" Your head cocks back in shock, convinced you've misheard him.

Harry grins hard, his eyes back to green now glittering like his smile does, "If you still want an internship- no, fuck that actually. If you still want a job working for me, then you've got one."

"I- I don't know what to say."

You're reeling, well and truly speechless, but then it hits you. There's something you need to make abundantly clear first.

"Hold on a sec." You start, eyeing him up suspiciously, "Are you just giving me a job for your company because we've fucked?"

"I'm not." He states sternly but sweetly, "I meant it when I said I liked your pitch. You should've been hired there and then. That was our mistake."

"I get it if you don't want the job now because of what we just did," he furthers, expression soft and smiley, "but I'm not gonna be some creepy boss who's gonna fuck you with my eyes every chance I can get."

Your lips form a playful pout, "Damn. That's a shame."

"You are trouble, I fucking knew it." Harry grins, shaking his head as he chuckles.

A laugh leaves your own now, with Harry's eyes brightening from the sight and sound, "Better get used to it, sir. You're gonna have your hands full with me."

You can't believe this is happening. You can't believe what you're about to say next is real.

"I'll take the job."

There's no doubt in your mind about accepting it. It's your dream job and you'd be mad not to. You've had fun working here as a cart girl, but you're more than ready for this new chapter.

What an amazing way to close this current one, too. Fucking on the golf course against your cart with the hottest man you've ever laid your eyes on, who just so happens to be your new boss, is insane. It's a story you reckon few can beat.

Now that one dream has been achieved, it doesn't hurt that you've suddenly found yourself with a new one. One in the form of the gorgeous CEO who, with his cock still inside of you, looks at you like you're his, too.

"Well, in that case..." Harry hums, giving you a professional nod and a not-so-professional wink, "Welcome to Pleasing, ma'am."

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