#google dart
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wonderful-emoji · 1 year ago
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esperfruit · 10 months ago
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The Dart pillow isn't real, it can't hurt you
The Dart pillow:
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amoralmorel · 1 year ago
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listen. i need markings like perhaps that of a poisonous frog that indicate to the world that i am aroace. because. well. i do not wish to be apostrophized by people with intentions.
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redmountain · 1 month ago
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razette · 6 months ago
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makes me think of that unskippable google phone ad on yt. The woman taking photos of things to shop online because she is SOOOOO BOOOORED by w/e her date is yapping on about. i wasnt impressed by ad to begin with, because im not the kind of person to be that type of rude. Idk, I would just cut in, personally. i mean how should I know if theyre being rude on purpose if I dont? am I part of this date or not, let me talk? skill issue, lady.
idk w/e I was along for the ride because the ad is un fucking skippable I understood the implication was that her date was a little self absorbed or something. she finds her stupid shitty lamp and is like "cool!" at the same time he is like "yeah, thats why tomatoes are awesome!"
when I tell you I shrieked. 🙀☠️☠️
anyway, tomato guy deserves better. he can infodump to me about tomatos all day. she can keep the ugly plastic lamp as representation of bad manners or w/e and just go. 😿
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regexkind · 26 days ago
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Stay on current road, tunnel, turn right, pass two arroyos, one big and one little, pass Marathon billboard, second tunnel, turn onto unpaved road
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nebadita · 7 months ago
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Why Flutter Is Best Cross Platform App Development Framework - Amar InfoTech
website link👇👇👇
Flutter is an open-source mobile application development framework created by Google. It was launched in 2017 and has been gaining popularity ever since. Flutter uses a programming language called Dart, which is easy to learn and fast in terms of performance. Flutter has several advantages over other cross-platform app development frameworks, including a faster development cycle, a more expressive and flexible UI, and hot reload capabilities that allow developers to see the changes they make to the code in real time. In addition to these advantages, Flutter also offers a wide range of mobile app development services, including custom app development, app migration, and Flutter app consulting.
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bhgdhj · 7 months ago
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Why Flutter Is Best Cross Platform App Development Framework - Amar InfoTech
website link👇👇👇
Flutter is an open-source mobile application development framework created by Google. It was launched in 2017 and has been gaining popularity ever since. Flutter uses a programming language called Dart, which is easy to learn and fast in terms of performance. Flutter has several advantages over other cross-platform app development frameworks, including a faster development cycle, a more expressive and flexible UI, and hot reload capabilities that allow developers to see the changes they make to the code in real time. In addition to these advantages, Flutter also offers a wide range of mobile app development services, including custom app development, app migration, and Flutter app consulting.
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ranojitmondol · 7 months ago
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Why Flutter Is Best Cross Platform App Development Framework - Amar InfoTech
website link👇👇👇
Flutter is an open-source mobile application development framework created by Google. It was launched in 2017 and has been gaining popularity ever since. Flutter uses a programming language called Dart, which is easy to learn and fast in terms of performance. Flutter has several advantages over other cross-platform app development frameworks, including a faster development cycle, a more expressive and flexible UI, and hot reload capabilities that allow developers to see the changes they make to the code in real time. In addition to these advantages, Flutter also offers a wide range of mobile app development services, including custom app development, app migration, and Flutter app consulting.
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sixeyesonathiel · 14 days ago
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what happens when the strongest sorcerer, satoru gojo, meets your strongest period mood swings?
a/n: i teared up writing this. i wish men—real, emotionally available, period-bath-running boyfriends—were real.
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you don’t know why you’re crying. again. maybe because the blanket slipped off your shoulder or because the strawberries he cut for you weren’t sweet enough or because the stupid commercial on tv had a puppy in it. whatever the reason, your bottom lip wobbles and you sniffle, clutching the heat pack tighter against your abdomen.
satoru is there in a heartbeat. not because he knows what to do—oh no, he’s scrambling. since this morning when you woke up groaning like a medieval knight struck down in battle, he’s been in full red-alert panic mode. he googled “how to handle girlfriend on period” three times, made a list, burned it, then cried a little in the hallway before gathering the courage to come back in. he even called shoko for backup, only to be met with unhelpful laughter and a “good luck, loverboy.”
now he’s crouched in front of the couch like he’s about to disarm a bomb, blue eyes wide behind his stupidly expensive sunglasses that are now pushed messily into his silvery hair. his lips are pursed like he’s concentrating very hard, but the little twitch at the corner of his mouth betrays his anxiety.
“operation: spoiled princess is officially in action,” he declares, voice light but eyes scanning your face like he’s trying to read the weather. his large hands cradle your cheeks with a gentleness that doesn’t match his usual chaos, thumbs brushing under your eyes like he can physically wipe the emotion away. “what’s wrong, baby? want me to punch the strawberries? i’ll do it. don’t test me.”
your nose scrunches, and despite the tears welling again, a soggy laugh escapes you. “you’re so dumb.”
“and yet so handsome. it’s really unfair to everyone else,” he sighs dramatically. his long legs fold awkwardly as he plops down beside you, then tugs you into his lap like you’re made of glass. your face smushes against the soft cotton of his long-sleeved tee, which smells like laundry detergent and a hint of something sugary—probably from the chocolate he was sneak-eating earlier.
five seconds later, your mood shifts again.
“why would you say that?” your voice rises, sharp. you pull back, brows furrowed. “are you saying other people want you? is that it? am i just some girl to you?”
satoru freezes like someone hit pause on him. “huh? what—no! what are you talking about? i just—i meant it like—baby, no, don’t cry again—”
“i’m not crying because of you,” you snap, already blinking back tears. your arms wrap tighter around your stomach. “i just… i feel gross and my stomach hurts and i hate everyone and nothing helps.”
“okay! okay,” he says quickly, hands held up like he’s facing a wild beast. his tone drops to something soft, coaxing. he leans in, his bangs falling a little into his eyes. “you hate everyone. but not me, right? please don’t hate me, i’ll literally explode.”
you glare. “depends. did you eat the last cookie or not.”
he blinks once. twice. “…i—what? baby, this is not the time for interrogation—”
“answer the question, toru.”
“…no comment.”
you narrow your eyes, pinch his side. he yelps like a kicked puppy.
“okay! okay! i did but i didn’t know it was the last one—wait, don’t look at me like that, please, i’m too young to die—”
satoru’s voice cracks just a little, and he sounds genuinely distressed now. the kind of pitiful panic that only comes from being accused by the person he loves most. “you don’t really hate me, right?” he blurts, blinking rapidly as if he could force an answer out of you by sheer will. “like… not actually? you’re just—y’know—period mad? not ‘i want to leave you and never look back’ mad?”
you sniff, pouting at him with narrowed eyes. the silence stretches just enough to make him squirm. he fidgets with the hem of his sleeve, eyes darting from yours to the pillow, to your hand still fisted in his shirt.
“because if you did, i think i’d just crawl into the washing machine and set it to spin cycle,” he mumbles, only half joking. “you’d forget all about me, but the spin cycle wouldn’t forget.”
you break. again. this time with a teary snort of laughter. your face buries into his neck, the tip of your nose brushing his warm skin as your shoulders tremble with exhausted giggles.
he exhales like a man who’s just been handed a stay of execution. his arms wind tighter around you, holding you like he’s scared you might vanish.
“i got you chocolate,” he whispers hastily, like it’s penance. “and those terrible chips you like. and i prepped a warm bath with the glittery bomb thingy you keep hoarding. also, i may have threatened the delivery guy to get here faster. i said i was a government official. please don’t report me.”
he tries to kiss your forehead, but you shove his face away with a palm.
“you smell like cheap cologne. did you use that stupid body spray again?”
satoru reels back, wounded. “excuse me, this is top-tier scent! the internet called it ‘irresistible alpha energy.’”
“more like teenage boy in a locker room.”
“wow,” he mutters, but there’s no heat in it. his thumb rubs slow circles into your back, his gaze flicking down to your fingers still tangled in his shirt.
finally, you lift your head, your eyes glassy but no longer stormy. your features soften—still tired, but laced with reluctant affection. satoru looks at you like you hung the damn moon.
“you’re the worst,” you whisper.
his grin is crooked, too relieved to be smug. “and you still don’t hate me. noted.”
he bumps his nose against yours, then gently tugs you closer. “c’mon. bath time for my temperamental goddess. i even lit the dumb candle that smells like a bakery.”
he stands, scooping you up with more care than coordination. you press your forehead to his jaw, soaking in the familiar comfort of his scent—minus the cologne.
“your skin glows with divine light… your aura purifies the air… i am but a lowly servant in the temple of your beauty…” he chants dramatically. he slips on your fuzzy socks halfway to the bathroom and nearly eats it, but catches himself just in time, shouting your name like he’s about to perish.
even if he’s overwhelmed, mildly traumatized, and definitely confused by the chaos that is your period mood swings, satoru gojo is nothing if not yours.
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wally-b-feed · 1 year ago
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Anthony Fineran, Horner Sullivan River Dart, 2024
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cybereliasacademy · 1 year ago
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Using the New Google ML Kit Document Scanner for Flutter Apps
Too Long; Didn’t Read The Document Scanner is a new feature in the Google MLKit Flutter package. It allows users to convert physical documents into digital formats. It is not yet supported for iOS and is currently in Beta mode. The plugin is available on the development branch but not on the master branch yet.
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novasintheroom · 8 months ago
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Simon who is generally against animals - due to his past with his father, you understand. Dogs, cats, birds, especially snakes. Thinks they’re a mess waiting to happen (and he’s right, they’re always making a mess if your mutt is anything to go by).
Simon who is walking through a rainy-day London, on leave for the time being, going to your apartment. He passes by an alley and hears the strangled mewling of a…well, a tiny kitten. He almost walks past, but the little thing darts out and almost gets trampled by his big boots. No survival skills, this one. The thing is sopping wet, orange fur dragging on the ground and tail a small waving stick drenched by rain. Simon looks at it, its pitiful shaking as it takes what shelter it can get under this big man, and sighs.
Simon who arrives at your apartment a little late, a little wet. Your mutt is the first to greet him at the door, butt wiggling and licking his lips in excitement, dragging his favorite toy over to show. You go to greet Simon with a hug when he stops you, fumbling with something at the top of his buttoned-up jacket. A little orange head pokes out suddenly, the kitten looking sleepy from the warmth of Simon’s chest.
Your eyes go wide. “Is that a – “
“Yeh,” he sighs through his mask, closing the door behind him, “don’t make a big deal of it.”
Hard not to. And while you dry off the small thing and have Simon google how to take care of a kitten, one thing is clear: you are going to marry this man if it’s the last thing you do.
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prlssprfctn · 2 months ago
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During one of the missions, Jason gets hit with a new serum; not exactly a truth one, rather the one that doesn't allow a person to control their process of thinking. They just vocalise all their thoughts all together.
"Fuck, I forgot to buy milk... Wait, am I babysitting Laura's kid this Friday or next one? Urgh, Tim was right, I should get myself a Google Calendar, this is getting embarrassing... Fuck, Tim. I need to deal with the intel he sneaked me behind Bruce's back... Fuck, whoops—"
It took some time for Bruce to chase away the rest of the family from the Batcave. Jason insisted that if they are going to stick up and try to make fun of him, he will either open shooting right there or just return home. And he really, really wanted to help his son this time. So he shooed his kids away and promised not to interact with Jason and his vortex of thoughts until he finishes with an antidote.
"Ignore it, old man," Jason sighs, rubbing his face. "Of course, you won't. You only ignore when it is stuff related to me."
Bruce sighs back.
In all truth, all this thing is a little bit of a... delight. He hadn't heard his son speaking so much since he was fifteen, and... well. He misses it. A lot.
From the other side, he is a little bit concerned about the amount of dark thoughts in the back of his head. For example, when they hauled him in the car, he kept reminiscing of vans back in the Crime Alley.
It is either this or casual thoughts about his daily life. Or quotes from somewhere.
He can relate to the chaos in Jason's head for the most of it. It is also not surprising at all that he always complains about headaches — is his head ever rests with this train of intangible thoughts?
"I hate being stuck in the cave. And this stupid memorial is still here," Jason groans. Bruce's eyes automatically dart towards the mentioned memorial, mentally making a note to, perhaps, finally, hide it away somewhere. Or break. "I wish I could kill myself."
Bruce pauses. His fingers freeze above the keyboard, shoulders tensing, and it takes everything not to turn around to face Jason.
"They should invent suicide for these, who keep coming back alive," Jason jokes — because it is a joke, he laughs at it — but Bruce feels his heart stopping for a second, because... because if Jason jokes about it, then it means he tried it before.
"What?"
He knows he promised not to answer to Jason right now. But strangled words escape his mouth before he can realise it.
"Jason—"
He feels his son flinching behind him. Perhaps, he hadn't even realise that he said until now, because for a minute there is nothing but a string of repetitive curses, all over again. And then Jason just pinches his shoulder, voice heavy:
"Work. Dad."
For the next hour, Jason does nothing but feverishly read aloud books around the Batcave, desperately trying to muffle down any personal thoughts.
Bruce finishes working on the antidote when Jason is on the thirty page of Damian's forgotten biological book. The lump in his throat doesn't disappear for the rest of the night, even when Jason storms out of the cave with a rushed gratitude.
No one asks what had happened.
Bruce silently shatters the old memorial the same night.
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finelinefae · 2 months ago
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trust [ceo!h x shy!reader]
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synopsis: bambi wants to try something new
word count: 7.9k
contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, fluff, age gap (9 years), shy reader, boyfriend!h, smut (soft smut like very gentle and loving), inexperienced y/n
this is part 4 of Bambi, read part 3 here
. . .
How do I shave down there without getting red, itchy bumps?
Follow these six simple steps to prepare for your first time!
How to suck dick 101
Y/N scrolled through a Reddit page at her desktop computer at work, the screen glowing softly in the dim office lighting. It was a page she had found after typing into Google, ‘how to prepare for your first time.’ Hundreds of subreddits appeared, each packed with questions and experiences Y/N hadn’t even considered until reading about them. She had fallen down the rabbit hole, finding a question and then getting lost in the responses.
Lostrabbit23: I lost my virginity at 15 and it was the worst experience of my life!!!! Lasted five minutes and the guy came before he even put his dick inside me, I swear.
Redberry5: Lost my virginity at 25 and it was a good experience. I’m glad I waited for the right person.
Whitedude32: Can’t understand how people can still be virgins past 18 tbh - just get it over with and live a little.
Y/N gnawed on her bottom lip, her eyes absorbing every word on the page. It seemed unnecessary, and she knew she was overthinking as she normally did, but… Y/N had a boyfriend now. A real boyfriend. And with every boyfriend, she knew what was expected.
The more she read, the more she realized how little she knew. A seed of doubt planted itself within her, growing with every scroll. What if Harry found out just how inexperienced she was? What if he didn’t think she looked pretty naked and ended up having second thoughts about being with her? The thought made her stomach twist in knots.
"Are you watching porn?" Lindsey sauntered over to Y/N's desk, balancing a stack of binders on her hip. Y/N's heart skipped a beat as she frantically clicked off the incognito tab and opened a random Microsoft Word document.
"W-What?" Y/N stammered, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson. "No! Of course not."
"Hmm," Lindsey placed the binders down with a soft thud and crossed her arms, her gaze narrowing. "Then why do you look like I just caught you red-handed? That’s not like you."
"I wasn’t doing anything," Y/N blurted, trying to keep her voice steady. "Just looking at today’s meeting notes."
Lindsey leaned in, peering over Y/N’s shoulder. "These notes are from three weeks ago."
Y/N’s eyes darted to the date at the top of the page. "I was catching up?" she added, her voice faltering.
Lindsey raised an eyebrow, skepticism clear on her face. "So, is this Reddit obsession new, or have you always had it?"
Y/N’s face burned hotter. "I-I don’t know what you’re talking about."
Lindsey gave her a pointed look, "You left your tabs open during lunch. Rookie mistake."
Y/N felt like dying, “I did?” She almost felt like crying, embarrassment washing over her entire body she could feel it burning, “I-I was just researching stuff,”
Lindsey’s expression softened slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. " What kind of 'stuff' are we talking about here?"
Y/N hesitated, her fingers nervously tapping the edge of her keyboard. "Just… things. You know, advice. Relationship stuff."
Lindsey’s eyes lit up with curiosity. "Oh, relationship stuff? Now we're getting somewhere. Who’s the lucky man?”
Y/N and Harry were both sure that Lindsey already knew they were an item but they weren’t going to risk slipping their facade by bringing it up, “Just somebody.” 
Lindsey looked knowingly, “Okay well are you planning on taking the next step with this just somebody?”
Y/N hesitated, unsure how to respond. Whenever things got too intense with Harry, she had a habit of pulling away or steering the conversation elsewhere. It wasn’t because she didn’t want to share those moments with him—she did. But she needed to feel ready, to prepare herself for something so intimate.
“I... I think I want to,” she said softly, avoiding his eyes. Her voice trembled as she added, “I just... I just want to be good.”
Lindsey’s expression softened immediately. “Oh, sweetheart,” she murmured, stepping forward to wrap Y/N in a warm hug. The gesture brought a lump to Y/N’s throat. In the weeks since she’d started her new job, Lindsey had become like the older sister she’d never had—someone she could trust completely.
Pulling back, Lindsey held Y/N’s shoulders firmly, her voice gentle but steady. “First of all, you never have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. Sex isn’t a performance, it’s personal. It’s about intimacy, connection, and trust. Whatever happens is between you and whoever you’re with, and that’s all that matters.
“Second,” she added with a small smile, “it’s not as complicated as people make it seem. Even if it’s awkward or messy at first, that’s okay. You’ll learn together. That’s one of the best parts of being with someone—discovering their little quirks, preferences, kinks and everything inbetween. Trust me, you’ll be fine. And if anyone ever makes you feel less than beautiful in the process? They’re not worth your time.”
Y/N exhaled, feeling a weight lift from her chest. “Oh no, he’s perfect,” she confessed, her voice tinged with a dreamy sigh. “Better than that. He’s... everything.”
Lindsey chuckled, glancing at her watch. “Well, speaking of perfect, it’s time for us to take a well-deserved lunch break.”
“What?” Y/N blinked in surprise as Lindsey grabbed her hand, tugging her toward the door.
Before she could protest further, Lindsey swung open the door to Harry’s office, revealing him seated at his desk in a perfectly pressed suit. Y/N hadn’t seen much of him that morning, and the sight of him made her heart flutter. She wanted nothing more than to cross the room and curl up in his lap.
Harry glanced up, his lips curving into a warm smile as soon as he spotted her.
“We’re taking an early lunch,” Lindsey declared.
Harry raised an eyebrow, checking the clock on his wall. “It’s 11:30. Lunch doesn’t start for another hour.”
Lindsey waved a dismissive hand. “We’ve been working so hard we deserve an extra break.”
Y/N snapped out of her daze just in time to nod in agreement, though the gesture only made Harry’s gaze soften further.
“Is that right, Miss Y/L/N?” he asked, his tone teasing.
Y/N felt her cheeks heat up. “Mhm,” she mumbled. “We’ve been working very hard.”
Harry chuckled, his gaze flicking back to Lindsey. “Fine. An hour extra, but that’s it. If anyone asks, you’re running errands.”
Lindsey grinned. “Yes, boss. Oh, and we’ll need your credit card.”
Harry scoffed. “Not happening.”
“Worth a shot.” Lindsey shrugged, then headed for the door. Before leaving, she shot them a pointed look. “I’ll grab my coat. No funny business, you two. I’ll be waiting outside.”
As soon as the door clicked shut, Harry stood, straightening his jacket before walking over to Y/N. He reached for her hand, his voice dropping to a soft murmur. “Hi, baby.”
“Hi, Harry,” she whispered, her breath catching as he leaned down to kiss her gently.
“Everything okay?” he asked, his eyes searching hers. “You don’t have to go with Lindsey, you know. You could stay here and spend your lunch break with me.”
The suggestion was far too tempting, and Harry’s smile only made it harder to resist.
“She hasn’t even told me where we’re going,” Y/N shrugged, trying to play it cool despite the rapid beat of her heart.
Harry reached down, tangling his fingers with hers. His touch was warm, grounding. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Wherever she’s taking you, make sure you don’t overdo it, okay? We still have plans tonight, remember?”
Y/N’s stomach fluttered. Harry had been teasing her about the surprise date all week. She was excited, but also nervous—especially after his cryptic text telling her to wear something she didn’t mind getting dirty.
Harry kissed her again, but their moment was cut short by a loud knock on the door.
“Hurry it up in there! Time’s ticking!” Lindsey’s muffled voice called through the door.
Y/N couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled out of her, and Harry’s lips curved into a soft smile at the sound.
“Here,” he said, pulling his wallet from the inside pocket of his blazer. He slid out a gleaming gold AMEX card and pressed it into her hand.
Y/N’s eyes widened. “O-Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly—”
“Bambi,” Harry interrupted, his tone firm but affectionate. The nickname made her heart skip. “Take it.”
His commanding presence was enough to make her stop arguing. She looked up at him, cheeks tinged pink, and nodded.
Y/N stared at the card in her hand like it might bite her. “But Harry,” she whispered, glancing up at him with wide eyes, “I don’t even know what to do with this. What if I lose it? What if I spend too much? What if—”
Harry chuckled softly, the sound warm and reassuring. He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing over her flushed skin. “Bambi, all you need to do is enjoy yourself. You deserve it.”
Her lips parted, and she blinked up at him, unsure what to say.  “I’ll take good care of it,” she promised in a tiny voice, clutching the card. “And I’ll bring it right back. I promise I won’t spend too much!”
“I know you won’t,” he murmured, a hint of amusement dancing in his voice. “I trust you.”
Before she could overthink it any further, Harry leaned down and kissed her forehead again, lingering just long enough for her to feel the warmth of him. “Go have fun.”
Her heart did a nervous little flip at the reminder. “O-Okay,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lindsey’s voice interrupted again, sharp but teasing. “Alright, lovebirds, seriously! I’m giving you ten seconds before I come in there and drag her out myself!”
Y/N squeaked and turned to the door. “Coming!” she called, her voice high-pitched and rushed.
Harry smirked, clearly enjoying her flustered state. He stepped back and adjusted his tie, looking every bit the polished professional, but his eyes were still soft as they followed her.
“Be good,” he teased, his voice low enough that only she could hear.
Her cheeks turned an even deeper shade of pink. “I’ll try,” she mumbled, giving him a quick, shy smile before hurrying out of the office.
Outside, Lindsey was waiting with her hands on her hips, an exaggeratedly impatient expression on her face.
“About time,” she said, grabbing Y/N’s hand and tugging her down the hallway. “Now, let’s see what kind of trouble we can get into with that fancy credit card of his.”
Y/N let out a soft giggle, her fingers curling around the card in her hand. She glanced back toward Harry’s office door one last time, her heart still racing. Even though she was nervous about tonight, she couldn’t help but feel a little giddy, too.
Lindsey noticed the dreamy look on Y/N’s face and rolled her eyes with a grin. “You’ve got it bad, don’t you?”
Y/N looked away, pressing her lips together as a shy smile spread across her face. “Maybe,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
“Oh, you’re adorable,” Lindsey laughed, throwing an arm around her shoulders. “Come on, let’s make this lunch break worth it.”
. . .
Y/N stood in the small changing room, staring at the pile of delicate lingerie Lindsey had hung on the door hook. Each set was softer and more intricate than the last, made from lace, satin, and ribbons in pastel tones of blue, lavender, mint, and blush. She felt like a clumsy giant in a room of dainty, breakable things.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” Y/N called softly through the door.
“You’ve got this,” Lindsey replied encouragingly. “Try the pink one first. It’s so you.”
With trembling hands, Y/N picked up the light blush pink set, the soft lace slipping between her fingers like a whisper. She changed quickly, careful not to look too long in the mirror, and hesitated before stepping out.
“Alright, let me see,” Lindsey said, her voice full of excitement.
Y/N cracked open the door and peeked out timidly. “Promise you won’t laugh?”
“Promise. Now, come on!”
Taking a deep breath, Y/N stepped out, crossing her arms over her chest shyly. The pastel pink lace hugged her figure, delicate straps tracing over her shoulders and down her back. Lindsey’s eyes lit up as she took in the sight.
“Oh, you look so cute!” Lindsey grinned. “It’s perfect! Very soft, very sweet. What do you think?”
Y/N glanced at her reflection in the mirror outside the stall, biting her lip. “I don’t know... It feels like... too much? Or maybe not enough?”
Lindsey shook her head, placing a reassuring hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “It’s not too much, and it’s definitely not too little. It’s elegant and adorable, just like you.”
Y/N flushed and retreated back into the stall to try the next set. The routine continued for several minutes, with Y/N emerging in pastel greens, blues, and creams. Finally, she reached for the last set—a soft taupe-pink shade, almost like the color of cocoa mixed with milk.
When she stepped out in this set, Lindsey gasped softly. “Oh my god.”
Y/N immediately crossed her arms again. “Is it bad? I knew it was too much—”
“No!” Lindsey interrupted, shaking her head vehemently. She stepped closer and took Y/N by the shoulders, turning her toward the mirror. “Look at yourself. You look like a little deer.”
Y/N blinked at her reflection, her brow furrowed. The taupe-pink color complimented her skin tone, and the simple but elegant design made her feel... grown-up, yet still herself.
“I... I don’t know,” she murmured, her voice shaky.
“Hey.” Lindsey crouched slightly to catch Y/N’s gaze in the mirror. “You’re beautiful, Y/N. Stunning. And Harry is going to lose his shit when he sees you in this.”
Y/N’s cheeks flamed. “Lindsey!” she squeaked, burying her face in her hands.
Lindsey laughed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “What? It’s true! Now, I think we’ve found the winner. Let’s go pay before I start crying over how cute you look.”
Y/N nodded shyly, stealing one last glance at herself in the mirror. For the first time, she felt a spark of confidence in her chest. Maybe Harry would love it.
Or, at the very least, she loved it—and that felt just as important.
. . .
Y/N sat comfortably in the passenger seat of Harry’s Porsche, her old t-shirt soft against her skin and her blue jeans slightly worn at the knees. Her baby pink ballet flats rested lightly on the floor, toes tapping absentmindedly as she gazed out the window, trying to decipher where he was taking her. 
Harry, effortlessly cozy in his sweater and loose-fitting jeans, kept one hand on the wheel while the other held hers over the console. His black Vans were slightly scuffed, white socks peeking above the edges. At every red light, he lifted her fingers to his lips, pressing a tender kiss against them as if it were second nature.
“Did y’have fun with Lindsey today?” he asked, sparing a glance in her direction.
Y/N hesitated for a moment, then cleared her throat. “Y-Yeah, it was… fun.” She tried not to think about the underwear she had bought earlier particularly because she was currently wearing it beneath her very casual clothing. 
Harry’s lips quirked up in amusement. “You don’t sound too sure about that.”
“No, it was!” she insisted, sitting up a little straighter. “It was really nice. I don’t spend a lot of time with other girls, so it felt… different. In a good way.”
His smile softened as he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before returning his focus to the road. “Y’know you’re welcome to spend time with Sarah and Alessia too.”
“But they’re your friends,” Y/N frowned. “Wouldn’t you feel like I was taking them away?”
Harry scoffed, shaking his head. “Of course not. What’s mine is yours, love. You’re my girlfriend, remember?”
Y/N’s lips twitched, a giddy warmth settling in her chest. She let her head fall back against the headrest, a slow smile curling on her lips.
“What?” Harry grinned, flicking his eyes toward her for a second.
“I just like it when you say that,” she admitted.
“What? Girlfriend?” he teased, his dimples appearing as he chuckled.
“Mhm,” she hummed, cheeks heating up. “I can’t believe I’m a girlfriend.”
Harry laughed, bringing her hand up to kiss her knuckles. “You’re not just a girlfriend, you’re my girlfriend. All mine.”
She liked that label even more.
Later on, the soft crunch of gravel beneath the tires signaled their arrival. Harry pulled into a small stone parking lot in front of what looked like a quaint, cottage-style home. The windows glowed warmly against the dusky sky, lace curtains fluttering slightly from the inside. There was no sign or indication of where they were, just an inviting little house with flower boxes lining the window sills.
Y/N glanced around, unbuckling her seatbelt. “Where are we?”
Harry smirked, already opening his door. “You’ll see.”
Curiosity buzzed in her stomach as she climbed out of the car, the crisp evening air wrapping around her. Harry met her at the front, slipping his hand into hers and leading her toward the wooden door.
Before she could ask any more questions, the door creaked open to reveal an elderly woman with wispy white hair pinned up in a loose bun. She wore a pastel apron dusted with flour and had a kind twinkle in her eye.
“Harry, darling!” she greeted, pulling him into a soft hug before turning to Y/N with an equally warm smile. “And you must be Y/N! Oh, you’re just as lovely as he said.”
Y/N’s brows shot up as she looked between Harry and the woman. “He’s mentioned me?”
“Oh, love, he wouldn’t stop talking about you,” she chuckled, stepping aside to usher them in. The scent of vanilla and butter filled the air, making Y/N’s mouth water. “Come in, come in, we’ve got cakes to decorate!”
Y/N’s jaw dropped slightly as she turned to Harry. “Really?”
Harry grinned, squeezing her hand. “Thought you’d like it.” Y/N let out a delighted squeal as she followed him inside. 
The cozy kitchen looked straight out of a storybook—wooden shelves lined with jars of sugar and sprinkles, floral-printed tea towels hanging neatly by the stove, and a large wooden table in the center covered with piping bags, frosting tubs, and trays of undecorated cupcakes.
Y/N hesitated at the doorway, her fingers curling around Harry’s sleeve as she peeked inside. “I’ve always wanted to do a baking class,” she admitted, eyes wide with curiosity.
Harry turned to her with a grin. “I know,”
She furrowed her brows, “How did you find out?”
“You’re brothers told me,” He shrugged.
The elderly woman, who had introduced herself as Margaret, beamed at her. “Don’t worry if you’ve never done this before—I’ll show you everything!”
Y/N’s fingers fiddled with the edge of her sleeve as she stepped further into the cozy kitchen, taking in the warm scent of vanilla and sugar. She glanced at Harry, still feeling a little surprised that he had gone out of his way to plan something so thoughtful.
Margaret handed them each an apron, and Y/N hesitated before slipping hers over her head. As she struggled to tie the strings behind her back, she felt a familiar presence behind her.
“Here, Bambi,” Harry murmured, gently tugging the ends and tying them into a neat bow.
Y/N swallowed, her fingers curling slightly against the fabric of her apron. “Thank you…” she said softly, peeking up at him.
Harry just hummed, the corner of his mouth twitching as he reached for his own apron.
Margaret clapped her hands together. “Now, let’s get started! We’ve got a few cakes ready for decorating, and you two can pick whichever frosting colors you like.”
Y/N followed her to the counter, where bowls of pastel-colored buttercream sat beside trays of undecorated cakes. She hovered near the edge, unsure where to start.
Harry, on the other hand, grabbed a piping bag without hesitation. “I used to work at a bakery so don’t be surprised if my cake turns into a masterpiece,” he declared, scooping up a generous amount of frosting.
Y/N watched him for a moment, then turned back to her own cake. She carefully picked up a piping bag but hesitated before squeezing it. “What if I mess it up?” she murmured, more to herself than anyone else.
Margaret overheard and smiled warmly. “There’s no such thing, dear. It’s just cake. If it doesn’t turn out how you want, we’ll eat the evidence.”
Y/N let out a small giggle, feeling a little more at ease. She took a deep breath and pressed down on the piping bag, carefully swirling the frosting onto the cake. Her hands were a little shaky, but as she stepped back, she couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit proud.
Harry glanced over and tilted his head. “That’s cute,” he said, nodding toward her cake.
Y/N tucked her chin down, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. “You think so?”
“Yeah,” he said simply, before turning back to his own. “Almost as good as mine,”
Y/N peeked at his cake and bit her lip to hold back a giggle. His frosting was uneven, the swirls lopsided. She glanced up at him, unsure if she should say anything.
He must have noticed because he smirked. “Go on, laugh.”
She shook her head quickly. “N-No! I—I think it’s lovely.”
Harry chuckled, nudging her lightly. “lovely, huh?”
Y/N felt her face heat up and quickly focused back on her cake, hoping he wouldn’t notice.
Before she could react, Harry swiped a bit of icing onto his finger and gently smeared it across her cheek. She gasped, eyes widening in surprise as he leaned in slightly, a playful smirk on his lips.
“I think you’re lovely,” he murmured.
Margaret smiled knowingly. “You two make a lovely pair,” she said as she reached for some sprinkles. “Now, who wants to add the finishing touches?”
Y/N reached for a jar of soft pink sugar pearls, her fingers barely brushing Harry’s as he reached for the same one.
He didn’t move his hand right away, just glanced at her with a small smile. “You take it,” he said softly, his pinkie finger poking her hand. Y/N ducked her head, feeling a flutter in her chest as she carefully took the jar.
With the finishing touches added—Harry’s cake looking as delightfully messy as ever, and Y/N’s decorated with delicate swirls and tiny pearls—they both stepped back, admiring their work.
Margaret beamed at them. “Wonderful, both of you! Now, how about some tea? You’ve earned it.”
Y/N nodded quickly, grateful for something to do other than stand there under Harry’s watchful gaze. She followed Margaret to a cozy table near the window, where a teapot and delicate china cups were already set up. The scent of chamomile and honey filled the air as Margaret poured them each a cup.
Harry stretched out beside Y/N, his long legs brushing hers beneath the table. He didn’t seem to notice—or if he did, he wasn’t letting on.
As Y/N stirred a spoonful of sugar into her tea, curiosity finally got the better of her. She glanced between Harry and Margaret before speaking up softly. “How do you two know each other?”
Margaret smiled as she set down the teapot. “Oh, I’m an old friend of Harry’s mum. We go way back.” She turned to Harry with a teasing glint in her eye. “She’s actually coming to visit next week for his birthday.”
Y/N froze, her fingers tightening around her teacup.
Birthday?
Her mind spun. Harry hadn’t mentioned his birthday. Not once. And now she had to meet his mum?
Oh. Oh no.
She must’ve gone silent for too long because Harry’s gaze flickered toward her, his brows furrowing slightly.
Then, under the table, she felt it—his hand, warm and steady, pressing gently against her thigh.
Y/N’s breath hitched as she looked up at him, wide-eyed.
He didn’t say anything, just gave her a knowing look—one that was both amused and reassuring. His thumb brushed lightly over the fabric of her jeans, a silent gesture that somehow grounded her and made her even more flustered all at once.
“You alright, Bambi?” he asked, his voice low enough that only she could hear.
Y/N swallowed hard and nodded quickly, even though her heart was racing.
Harry’s lips twitched, clearly not believing her. But, mercifully, he didn’t push. He just kept his hand where it was, a steady presence beneath the table.
Y/N took a sip of her tea, hoping it would hide the blush creeping up her neck.
She had two problems now: figuring out what to do for his birthday and somehow surviving meeting his mum without making a complete fool of herself.
And, judging by the knowing smirk on Harry’s lips, he was well aware of both.
. . .
“Thank you for having us,” Y/N said softly, offering Margaret a small smile as they stood by the door.
Margaret waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, nonsense, dear. It was lovely having you both.” Then, with a knowing smile, she added, “You’re welcome to come back and do some baking with me anytime, Y/N.”
Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by the offer. She glanced at Harry, who was watching the exchange with amusement, then back at Margaret. “Oh—I’d love to,” she said shyly.
Margaret patted her arm warmly before turning to Harry. “Take care, love. And don’t forget to call your mum.”
Harry groaned playfully. “You’ve been talking to her too much.”
Margaret only laughed, waving them off as they made their way to the car.
Once inside, Y/N fastened her seatbelt and turned to look at Harry, who was adjusting the mirrors. She hesitated for a moment before finally voicing the thoughts swirling in her head.
“You didn’t tell me your mom was coming to see you,” she said, her fingers fidgeting in her lap. “Or that it was your birthday.”
Harry shot her a side glance, lips twitching slightly. “I didn’t want to panic you.”
She frowned. “About your birthday?”
“I don’t like the attention,” he admitted simply.
That made her pause. She looked at him, watching the way his fingers tapped idly against the steering wheel.
Silence settled between them for a beat before he spoke again, his voice quieter this time. “Are you mad?”
The question shocked her. Her brows knitted together. “No, of course not,” she said quickly. Then, softer, “Just… worried.”
Harry turned to her fully now, one arm draped over the steering wheel as he studied her. “Worried?”
“What if your mom doesn’t like me?” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
His expression softened. “I think she already does.”
Y/N blinked. “Huh?”
“You’re all I talk about when I speak to her these days, Bambi,” he said, his voice warm, sure. “Believe me when I say you have nothing to worry about.”
A small huff left her lips as she sank deeper into her seat, still unsure if that made her feel better or worse.
“Bambiiiiii,” Harry drawled, his tone teasing. “Give me a kiss.”
She almost smiled, shaking her head as she turned toward him to say something—maybe to protest, maybe just to stall—but she never got the chance.
Before she could speak, Harry cupped her entire face in his hands, tilting her chin up as he kissed her.
Y/N melted instantly, her hands hesitating before resting lightly against his chest. His thumbs brushed over her cheeks, his lips moving against hers with a kind of lazy confidence that made her stomach flip.
He pulled back just enough for their noses to brush, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You taste like frosting,” he murmured against her mouth.
Y/N let out a breathless laugh, her fingers curling slightly against his shirt.
Maybe she was still nervous about meeting his mom. Maybe she was still reeling from the fact that his birthday was next week. But right now, in this moment, all she could focus on was him.
“Come on,” Harry’s hand rested on her knee, “Let’s get you home.” 
The drive back was quiet, comfortable. The occasional hum of a song on the radio filled the space between them, but neither of them felt the need to talk much. Harry’s hand rested casually on the gear shift, fingers drumming lightly, while Y/N watched the familiar streets pass by through the window.
Before she knew it, they were outside her house. Harry shifted into park and turned toward her with a small smile. “Home safe, Bambi.”
Y/N reached for the door handle but hesitated.
She didn’t want the night to end just yet.
Biting her lip, she turned to face him properly. “Do you… want to come inside?”
Harry blinked, a flicker of surprise crossing his face, “Yeah?”
Y/N nodded, suddenly feeling a little nervous under his gaze. “Yeah.”
His face softened into something warmer, more curious. He tilted his head slightly, studying her. “You sure?”
Y/N swallowed, then nodded again. “I just—” She exhaled, giving a small shrug. “I’m not ready for you to leave yet.”
Harry’s expression changed, something fond flickering in his green eyes before he reached over, fingers brushing her chin briefly.
“Then I won’t,” he murmured.
With that, he shut off the car and stepped out, rounding to meet her at the front steps.
Y/N’s stomach fluttered as she unlocked the door, fully aware of Harry standing just behind her. And as she pushed it open and stepped inside, she couldn’t help but smile when she heard him close the door behind them.
“Everyone’s asleep. We can go upstairs to my room,” she whispered, locking the front door behind them. Slipping off her shoes, she glanced back as Harry did the same, his movements quiet and easy.
Without thinking, she reached for his hand, her fingers curling around his as she led him up the stairs. They tiptoed carefully past her brother’s rooms, the only sound the faint creak of the wooden steps beneath them.
Once inside, she gently shut the door and turned to find Harry standing in the middle of her room, his gaze slowly sweeping over the space.
It was strange seeing him there—so tall, so effortlessly cool—against the soft pink and white of her bedroom. He looked almost out of place, yet somehow, he didn’t.
His eyes landed on the mannequin in the corner, where a partially finished dress hung, delicate ruffles cascading down the fabric.
“Did you make this?” he asked, his voice laced with curiosity as he stepped closer, taking in the details.
Y/N tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, suddenly shy. “Yeah… it’s taking a lot longer than I thought it would.”
Harry turned to her, something like awe flickering across his face. “Bambi,” he murmured, shaking his head slightly. “You should be working with the design team at Pleasing, not stuck behind a desk.”
Her eyes widened, heat creeping up her neck. “Oh, no, no,” she protested quickly, waving a hand. “The desk job is more than enough.”
Harry just hummed, still admiring the dress. “At least give it a think.”
Y/N blinked, a confused smile tugging at her lips. “Wait, are you offering?”
Harry turned to face her, already standing just a step away, the small space of her room almost too close. His lips curled into a teasing grin. “I don’t know… do you want me to?”
Her heart skipped a beat, and before she could answer, Harry intertwined their fingers, his touch sending a jolt of warmth through her. He lowered his head, his lips ghosting over hers, just a breath away.
“I think you’re going to do such great things, Bambi,” he murmured, his voice soft but certain. “You don’t need me for that.”
Y/N’s breath hitched, the sincerity in his voice melting the walls she had built up around herself. Her chest tightened, and before she could stop herself, she kissed him, her lips pressing against his with a soft urgency.
His hands cupped her cheeks gently, his touch grounding her as she stepped back, the backs of her knees hitting the edge of her bed. They both tumbled onto it in a tangle of limbs, Y/N’s heart thudding loudly against her chest.
His hands moved to her hips, fingers digging into her skin beneath her shirt, pulling her closer. The warmth of his touch made her pulse quicken, and her mind raced, completely overwhelmed by the closeness.
Her thoughts scattered, and she found herself whispering, almost breathless. “Y—you can take it off.”
Harry’s hands stilled, his brows furrowing in confusion. “My shirt, I mean.”
His lips parted slightly, eyes widening as he processed what she’d said. “Are you sure?”
She nodded, her heart in her throat, “I-I’m sure,” She replied. 
Harry didn’t respond at first, his eyes scanning her face to make sure she truly meant what she said. His fingers tugged on the ends of her shirt and she nodded once more to let him know it was okay and what she wanted. 
Harry lifted her shirt, his fingers grazing her skin as he pulled it over her head. The cool air prickled against her newly exposed skin, but the way his gaze darkened sent a different kind of heat through her. 
"God," he murmured, voice thick with something unspoken, his eyes scanned the underwear she was wearing. He said nothing at first, Y/N’s nerves growing at his silence. Her first instinct was to put her shirt back on to cover herself up but his fingers wrapped around her wrist, “Are you real?” 
Y/N giggled, “I think so,” she poked her tummy and Harry laughed.
“I must have been good at some point in time, I don’t think you’d be here if I weren’t.” 
“You are good Harry,” Y/N murmurs.
“For you,” Harry whispers, “I’ll be anything. Anything y’ want, Bambi. I’ll bend and break myself to be whatever you want me to be. I’ve never been one for religion, but I’ve only ever prayed long and hard for someone like you, and now here you are. You’re like holding a piece of Heaven.”
Y/N's breath catches, the weight of his words settling deep within her chest. She reaches up, her fingers brushing against his cheek, tracing the lines of his jaw with a softness that matches her racing heart. "Harry..."
His eyes soften as they meet hers, the intensity never wavering, but there's something tender in his gaze now, something that says he's not just talking about desire, but something deeper, more profound.
Y/N swallowed hard, her fingers twitching at her sides before she reached for the hem of his shirt. He smirked, eyes locked onto hers as he helped her tug it over his head, his movements fluid, confident. Her eyes rounded at the tattoos that littered his muscular torso. Her hands hesitated over the hard lines of his chest, the warmth of his skin under her fingertips making her pulse stutter.
"Go on," Harry urged, his voice low, teasing. "Touch me."
Her breath hitched, but she obeyed, palms trailing cautiously over his chest, feeling the steady, unshaken beat of his heart. Unlike her own, which was hammering in her ribs. She traced her fingers over a particular tattoo on his left pectoral.
Her gaze lifted to meet his, and she noticed the way his chest rose and fell with every breath, the warmth of his body against hers making her pulse quicken. Harry’s eyes softened as he watched her, his lips curling into a smile.
"Relax, love," he murmured, cupping her chin and tilting her face up to his. "S’just me."
And then he kissed her again—deep, sure, in control. His hands slid down to her waist, pulling her flush against him, and she melted into him, letting him take the lead, letting him guide her through the intensity of it all.
They kissed for a while, Harry’s hands roaming over her skin, slowly learning the contours of her body as though he were memorizing each moment. Y/N melted into him, feeling the heat between them grow, her heart racing, pulse quickening under his touch. 
Y/N pulled away for a brief second to catch his breath, his eyes were hazy, his lips were pinker than usual and lazy grin lingered on his lips. “What are y’ thinking about Bambi?” 
She wondered how he could already read her so well. Her mind had been drifting the entire evening to this very moment, and now she was in it, her mouth dry and she couldn’t seem to conjure up the words. “H-Harry I-” The words were on the tip of her tongue, her mind drifting to a reddit article she read three days prior with tips on this exact situation. 
Harry waited patiently for her to continue, letting her have her space to gain the confidence to ask whatever she needed to. He could see the uncertainty in her eyes, the hesitation in her voice, and he respected it, not rushing her, not pushing for anything.
She sighed, her words barely above a whisper, "I bought this bra today."
Harry nodded, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "It’s very pretty, Bambi. So pretty on you." His lips brushed the side of her neck, a gentle, tender gesture meant to reassure her.
But Y/N could feel the weight of her own thoughts pressing on her chest. "B-but there’s a reason I bought it," she continued, her voice shaky.
Harry paused, his lips stilling against her skin as he pulled back slightly to look at her, his gaze full of warmth and curiosity. “What do you mean?”
She took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest as she gathered the courage to speak. "I... I want to try things with you."
Harry’s expression softened, the shock in his eyes mixing with a deeper understanding. He gave her a moment to continue, sensing that she wasn’t finished.
"I want you to do stuff with me." She felt her cheeks flush, but she held his gaze, refusing to look away.
He stayed silent for a beat, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair from her face, his voice calm but filled with concern. "Are you sure?"
She nodded, her hands trembling slightly as she reached for his, needing his touch to ground her. “I want to touch you.” She whispered in his ear, her cheeks scorching.
Harry choked, “Bambi,” He could feel himself hardening in his trousers.
She quickly continued, her voice a little shaky. “But y—you have to help me because… reading things online make it hard to understand, and those articles about… it’s confusing.”
Harry took her hands in his, his thumbs brushing over her knuckles as he looked into her eyes, his expression filled with warmth. “Hey, it’s okay,” he reassured her gently. “We’ll go slow. No pressure. I’ll help you, I promise. What is it you had in mind, Bambi?”
“I’m too embarrassed to say it out loud,” She admitted, breezing past the whole ‘pretending to be confident’ moment she had pictured in her head. “I feel embarrassed not knowing anything.”
Harry’s gaze softened, and Y/N wasn’t sure why it comforted her. He wasn’t showing sympathy, frustration, or excitement—his expression was unreadable, almost effortless. It was as if her uncertainty didn’t matter to him, as if knowing nothing made no difference at all. Being with her was enough, and whatever came with it was just a bonus.
“How about I’ll help you first,” He gently guided her onto his lap, his hands steady on her waist as he settled her against him. “Just follow my lead, yeah?” His voice was soft, reassuring, but there was an edge of something deeper in his tone—something patient yet undeniably wanting.
Y/N’s breath hitched as she adjusted herself, feeling the warmth of his body beneath her. His hands, warm and firm, traced slow circles on her hips, grounding her. “You don’t have to rush,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “This is just us. You and me.”
She exhaled shakily, her fingers gripping his shoulders as she let herself relax against him. The feeling was new, overwhelming but not in a bad way. Safe. Warm. Intimate in a way she hadn’t expected.
Harry’s fingers trailed up her spine, his touch featherlight but deliberate. “Tell me what feels good, Bambi,” he whispered, his lips ghosting over the shell of her ear. “We’ll figure this out together.”
Y/N swallowed, her body tingling at his words. “O-okay,” she breathed, trusting him completely.
Y/N shuddered as Harry’s hands splayed on her thighs, his fingers playfully playing with the hook of her underwear that rested on her hips. His thumb made circles on her skin, goosebumps rising where he traced, ‘Is this okay?” He whispered, eyes looking into hers. 
She nodded. His fingers sliding down further until they cupped her between her legs, “What about this?” 
She gaped, “Yes Harry,” 
“M’kay,” Warm breath fanned down her neck. 
Beneath her, Y/N could feel Harry’s hardening length. Her eyes widened, her breath hitching as she shifted slightly, the sensation unfamiliar yet thrilling. Harry’s grip on her hips tightened just a fraction, his jaw clenching as he exhaled through his nose.
“You feel that, Bambi?” he murmured, his voice thick with restraint.
She nodded, her hands clutching his shoulders, her heart hammering against her ribs. “It’s… um, it’s big,” she admitted shyly, her cheeks burning.
“Do you trust me?” Harry asked.
“Completely,” Y/N whispered with a nod. Harry didn’t hesitate, pressing a soft kiss to her lips before his hand drifted lower.
With careful precision, he hooked his fingers around the fabric of her underwear, tugging it aside. She wondered if he could feel the razor bumps from where she had tried to shave. If he did he didn’t say anything, just whispered, “Y’ the most perfect girl. How are you real?” She wasn’t sure if he was speaking to her or himself. 
The moment his fingers brushed past her folds, searching for her clit, she stiffened, a sharp inhale catching in her throat. Letting out a shaky breath, her fingers gripping his shoulders as a wave of unfamiliar yet intoxicating pleasure coursed through her. Harry watched her closely, his eyes dark with focus, making sure she was comfortable.
“Relax, Bambi,” he whispered, his lips brushing against her temple as his fingers moved with deliberate care. 
Y/N’s breath hitched as he found the sensitive bundle of nerves, his touch gentle yet firm. A soft whimper escaped her lips, and she instinctively pressed closer to him, seeking more.
“That’s it,” Harry murmured, his free hand stroking her thigh reassuringly. “You’re doing so good for me.”
She felt heat pool in her stomach, her body responding in ways she never imagined. “Harry,” she whimpered, barely recognizing her own voice.
His lips curled into a smirk as he pressed a kiss just below her ear. “I’ve got you, love,” he promised, his fingers working her with steady, patient movements. “You’re truly quite perfect.”
Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his words, but then her brows furrowed as a thought crept into her mind—she wanted to do something for Harry, too. This wasn’t meant to be just about her.
But as his fingers continued their slow, torturous movements, her thoughts blurred into nothingness. Her body responded instinctively, her hips rutting against his hand when he brushed a particularly sensitive spot.
Harry groaned, the sound deep and raw, sending a fresh wave of heat through her. The effect it had on her was instant—she wanted to hear it again. So she did it once more, rolling her hips into his touch.
“Y’ gonna kill me, Bambi,” he rasped, his grip on her tightening as he fought to keep control.
Harry let out a strained chuckle, his fingers tightening around her hips as he steadied her movements. His gaze was heavy-lidded, filled with something dark and reverent as he watched her.
“So damn sweet,” he murmured, his thumb tracing gentle circles on her skin. “All wide-eyed and trembling… just like a little deer.”
Y/N swallowed hard, her breath catching at his words. His comparison made her feel small, delicate—like something precious in his hands. 
Harry’s breath grew heavier, his grip on her hips firm as he guided her movements, letting her find what felt good. Y/N was completely lost in the sensation—his fingers working her with precise, devastating strokes, his voice low and coaxing as he whispered sweet praises in her ear.
“That’s it, Bambi,” he murmured, his forehead resting against hers. “Let yourself feel it.”
Her body trembled, overwhelmed by the pleasure building inside her. She clung to him, fingers pulling on the curls at the nape of his neck, his head falling back as she rocked against his hand, chasing the high she had never quite reached before.
Harry was struggling himself, his jaw clenched, his breathing ragged as her movements sent jolts of pleasure straight through him. He was achingly hard beneath her, the friction almost too much, especially when she rolled her hips just right.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his fingers faltering for a moment before he doubled down, determined to push her over the edge first. “You feel so good, love—so perfect.”
His words sent her spiraling. A broken moan slipped past her lips as the tension inside her snapped, pleasure crashing over her in waves. Her body tensed, then melted, a shuddering mess in his arms as she came undone.
The sight of her—the way she trembled, the breathy whimpers falling from her lips—was Harry’s undoing. With a deep, guttural groan, he buried his face in her neck, his body shuddering as he followed right after her, lost in his own release.
For a moment, neither of them moved, both caught in the aftershocks of pleasure, their breaths mingling as they clung to each other. Y/N felt boneless, her head resting against his shoulder, her heart still hammering in her chest.
“I think I’m falling in love with you, Harry,” Y/N confessed, her voice soft in the quiet light of her room. It was the most honest thing she had ever said, the most vulnerable she had ever allowed herself to be.
Harry’s eyes shone with an emotion she couldn’t quite decipher. Maybe it was love, maybe it was more but she couldn’t quite figure out what meant more than love. Unless what she was feeling was exactly that- something more- because when she thought about loving Harry, the word seemed much too small. She wanted to be the same person, wanted to melt into his skin and never find where she ended and he began. 
His fingers traced slow, soothing patterns on her back as he held her, grounding her in the moment. “Maybe it’s your first orgasm talking.” He chuckled and she playfully nudged him before laughing with him. 
As her eyes fluttered shut, inhaling the scent of him—warm, familiar, safe, she heard him whisper, “I think I’m two steps ahead of you Bambi.” and her heart pounded against her chest. 
Maybe love wasn’t a big enough word for what she felt, but whatever it was, it belonged to him. And she had a feeling it always would.
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bhgdhj · 7 months ago
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