#harry smut

[sushirrrry]

EXECUTIVE a harry styles one-shot smut blurb; 19.3k words cw: oral sex (f receiving), fingering, dom/sub, breath play, dirty talk.

"If they want the fucking numbers, they've got to stop being pussies and give us the fucking reins. I'm not sitting around and waiting for their stock to crash and for their stupid, fucking minions to come back on me to tell me what I already knew and told them from the start—I'm not painted out to be the biggest fucking moron, that's for certain. It's either a deal or it isn't, plain and simple. If they don't want to have that fucking conversation, it's done. Fuck them and their stupid fucking counteroffer. It's a fucking slap in the face, and I'm not even entertaining the idea."

Harry pulled the phone away from his ear, clicking on End Call before he threw his phone over and onto the wooden desk that sat perpendicular to the vicious New York skyline. His heart raced as he shook his head.

An adrenaline junkie like him fed off of the conversations like these.

His sleeves were pushed up his forearms, his eyes navigated towards the contractual wreckage of paperwork that had seemed to be forgone on his desk as he pushed some of it to the side. His elbows leaned on the desk; his hands tied together as he rested his lips again them in a precocious thought.

Running the company came with a sharp tongue and a knack for knowing when it was time to push back. Harry was a mogul in all of the sense of the word—his company had grown to a gargantuan size, which allowed his position within the business to skyrocket to a level that was so without fail that he couldn't believe it sometimes.

His mouth got the better of him; in some ways, it created the effervescence of attack. It was all that he could do to keep himself from picking the phone back up and telling them to shove it all back up their ass—he refrained for the time being, until he was pushed again.

But no one usually poked the bear unless they truly believed they had a chance in slaughtering them. Mr. Styles was far too confident in his work and his business to ever let that happen.

The bear's claws reacted too quickly for the barrel of the rifle to even face him.

"Uh, excuse me, Mr. Styles?"

His eyes raised to the door that he hadn't seen opening before his lips parted just a bit to answer the woman questioning him. She wore a black skirt with tall, black boots that suited the length of her legs. Her top arranged in a bit of a messy manor, but it was almost as if she had styled it that way to add a bit of flare.

Her blazer hung a bit low—practically to the mid-length of the skirt that rode up her thighs, but he wouldn't have been caught dead staring. In public, anyway.

His eyes made their assessment of her quickly before returning to her naturally, raspberry lips that took up much of her lower face. The natural length of her smile was perfectly proportioned, not that he had spent much time thinking of it, of course.

Felicity—his assistant. The one with eyes the color of the ocean that he would vacation on in the Maldives; the most piercing, stunning blue. The quiet one, a bit shy in her reservations, almost like she was the smallest fish in the ocean made entirely of sharks. Her reservations to others seemed to aid in bulldozing over her confidence, but to Harry, it was an enticing spectacle of fantasy.

A fantasy he'd promise to never share with even his closest comrades, if an NDA wasn't in place, that is.

The dark brown locks settled against her back in heaps of loose, voluminous curls as she held tightly to the phone behind her fingers.

"Am I interrupting?" She asked, her question a bit hesitant as she didn't seem to move any further forward into the large space of his office.

"No—no, you're not," He told her, "Come in, Felicity, I need to use your brain for a moment."

"My brain?" She asked him, cocking her head a bit.

That was the thing about Felicity that almost made him foam at the mouth– her way of innocence and contemplation that allowed him to see his viewpoints from her standpoint.

Harry's company was outsourcing most of the global news which meant that he oversaw several departments within. His leadership was only as good as the recommendations and guidance that Felicity was able to provide him; her devil's advocacy, her interpretation of empathy, and being able to see how interactions happened without Harry present versus the other sense.

Felicity was a practical need in his company for various reasons, not one to just make his blood boil and frantically move around his veins every time he caught a whiff of the coconut lime scent that his mind had become familiar with.

She was a calmness to him in many ways, so her presence now settled his heartbeat from the previous conversation.

"That deal we're making this afternoon, I just got off the phone with Sadler and they're folding– they're becoming weak. And it's pissing my off. They're coming to me to help solve their issues, because they know I can do it. They're , but they know we'll do it. Which pisses me off because it makes us look weak if we just say yes."

Felicity blinked a few times as she watched Harry's reaction, her legs crossed at the feeling before she held her hands in front of her and nodded.

Harry sucked his lips into his mouth before he shook his head, a few of loose curls settled on his forehead as he pushed them back and Felicity wished that he hadn't.

"I think you're going to push them to do it without the counter," Felicity nodded. "From what I'm hearing, they're folding, and they can see that what we can provide is significant. Especially in terms of the election. We can do it– you can do it."

His eyes flew to her word change, noticing that her eyes had moved away from him. The subtle blush of pink ate away at her cheeks before Harry nodded in his own satisfaction.

"Enough about me," He shook his head, "What did you need, Felicity?"

Her eyes raised as it seemed she came back to conclusion about what she had been there for to begin with.

"Oh, I just talked with Nava at PLI and they wanted to express their gratitude towards you, because they said that you helped them with understanding the fundamentals of their offer and I thought it sounded like a for-sure deal– I just wanted you to know that Nava is a yes," She nodded and raised her brows again in remembrance, "Oh! And I'm also running to pick up some coffee and snacks before the board meeting. Flat white?"

Harry smirked at the praise from her, watching it leave her lips effortlessly. He nodded a few times at her question before he rose from his chair and grabbed the tie around his neck to loosen just a bit.

Harry grabbed the paperwork off of his desk before he moved towards the door and guided Felicity to follow. "Yes, please. A flat white with cinnamon, maybe a pump of caramel? What do you think?"

The words were like a question as Felicity walked next to him through the natural, brightly lit office. Her fingers tapped away at the device before she noticed the slight edge of the spicy cologne that wafted from his demeanor as he turned his head toward her.

"I'm not a huge fan of caramel," She stated a bit hesitantly as they stopped in front of one of the offices where Harry was about to go into a meeting.

He looked at Felicity as they stopped, his eyes moving up and down as he went from her lips to her eyes as if involved in a game of ping-pong.

"What do you like, then?" His words were soft, fluid.

Felicity swallowed as she shook her head a few times and nibbled on her lip. She hummed for a moment, "Um, I prefer vanilla."

The corner of Harry's lip moved upwards. "Make it a hot flat white with an extra shot of espresso, cinnamon, and a pump of vanilla, please."

Felicity wrote it down in her notes, but her fingers almost shook with adrenaline as she felt his gaze linger on her without her noticing before she nodded. "Great. I'll– uh, I'll leave now so I can be back in time to make sure you have what you need."

Her feet started to move away before she heard the booming sensation of her name. The way that her eyes fluttered back at him made Harry almost take a step backward.

"Uh," He felt speechless at the sudden look of her, "Please get whatever you need, too." He felt the professionalism start to creep its way back in. "Can't have you falling asleep on the job, you have notes to write."

Felicity bit the inside of her cheek before she nodded. "Yes, sir."

With that, Felicity turned her back and started to head down towards the elevators. Harry turned to make his way into the boardroom where he saw the table sitting and waiting for his arrival.

The hush that fell over the crowd made him shutter every time– the power he held echoed through his conscious at every moment it could.

He only smirked as he sat at the head of the table, pulling himself to sit up and lean on the table before he looked up to see the many eyes staring back at him.

"Shall we get to work then?"

__________________

"This coffee is fucking cold."

One of the board members pushed it away after taking a small sip, as Felicity had just sat it down in front of him.

It was an older gentleman– Hank– who had worked with the Styles family for many years and been able to help SCO with their major launches with other shareholders. His entitlement was present in the room, which pressed on her ego just a bit. Her head turned towards him as she shook hers.

A woman at the end of the time made a face as she looked at the side of the cup, "Ordered a fucking latte—they even messed it up and it's cold. The coffee shop is just down the block."

Felicity tucked some hair behind her ears as she shook her head in a bit of disbelief as she tried to find the receipt that the coffeehouse had given her. There wasn't any way that they gave her the wrong order, but she didn't know if there may have been a mix-up in who she gave the coffees to.

"T-That's impossible—I just order—" But she was cut off by the man who licked over his lips and held his hand up to stop her words from even echoing in the room at all.

"Just go get some hot coffee, would you?"

Felicity's eyes blazed around the room as she noticed that the others had practically ignored her efforts of the two full cardboard contents of coffee cups that she had practically run the streets of New York to pick up. Not only were they not even acknowledging her, but they were condescending in her efforts. Yes, she was an assistant—she wasn't their assistant. It wasn't her fault that she was one person, but she knew that she had to try harder to make the best impression that she could.

"Everyone just shut the fuck up and drink your coffees, would you? Our deadline is in six fucking hours. If you can't handle a little lukewarm coffee, get the fuck out of my office. I pay too much of your goddamn salaries for you to cry like a fucking baby."

Harry's eyes moved to the nervous-looking girl who stood by the door, along the edge of the buffet that held the rest of the coffee, donuts, and bagels that had practically been falling out of her arms when she arrived.

He couldn't tell—it may have been the lighting, but her eyes looked glassy as she tried to stand with her shoulders back. Harry caught her attention before she threw herself back together and walked over towards him, leaning down to where he sat at the table.

"I can run to go get something else, I don't think it would take too long, you know. Or I could order it to be delivered?" Felicity asked, a bit cautious, he could tell. But her piercing blue eyes were practically a shade of gray as he looked at them through her thick, tortoiseshell glasses that complimented the brightness of her eyes.

His eyes fell to the way that the chapstick she always applied gave her lips the most subtle peony color—so pink, but so natural. He thought that may be a better place for his eyes to land instead of directly into her eyes, but then he panicked for a moment and turned them back to her eyes.

"That's not necessary." Harry shook his head, answering for the individuals in the room. Even if they pushed their coffee aside, Harry would have never blamed it on Felicity for any failure—it wasn't her fault. He took a sip of his own; to his dismay, it was a bit cold, but he wasn't going to complain about it.

The stature of Felicity at the door made him take in a deep breath before he caught her attention, asking her to come towards him with just a look before she was practically on top of him. Her willingness to do as he said gave him a feeling of endorphins that were unlike any he had before.

Harry looked up at her from his seat, licking over his lips softly.

"Please make a reservation for two at The Malbec tonight at nine—whether or not these jackasses are going to be done working, I sure am, and I'm going to celebrate it. Add that I would like the executive seating and the Pauillac on the table, not chilled."

She nodded a few times at his requests, adding it into her notes on her phone before she looked back at him cautiously.

"Should I be arranging a car to pick someone up for you?" She asked. Her teeth scraping against her bottom lip as she waited for his response.

Harry shook his head back at her before filing through a few papers, "Not necessary today. Just make sure that you're not off the clock yet," He nods, "In case something doesn't go as planned."

Felicity nodded at the feeling of his eyes on hers before he turned to face the table before him.

"Someone get John on the phone," Harry ordered, his eyes going towards, "Hank. I want their numbers for the day and the plan for the fiscal year. I want to hear it from their lips, the spreadsheets don't mean shit if they're just going to lie to my face. Mary, contact PLI to get their rates."

Felicity had started to make her way towards the door, back towards her desk that sat in the main office towards Harry's own private one, before Harry called her back, "Felicity, sit in this meeting, will you? Grab your computer."

Her eyes narrowed at him in a bit of confusion before he stood up and grabbed a chair from the side of the room and pulled it to the spot next to where he was, at the head of the table.

Felicity did as he wished, leaving to grab her laptop and notebook essentials that she used to keep track of his days, his weeks. When she arrived back, she could feel a few eyes on her as they talked through the deal with John. The silence in the room as he spoke over the speaker was deafening before she sat down at the spot next to Harry.

His focus on the conversation made her attention turn towards him.

Working at SCO was one of Felicity's highest honors—she felt that her confidence was gained just by being in the room with some of these people. But, at the same time, she wondered at what point this would all get to her. She wasn't like this—she didn't have the same cutthroat mindset of tearing another down to get herself to another place.

In some respects, that's what was the balance between what Harry was and what he knew that he needed. He needed someone like Felicity to sit next to him—a calming sensation that he didn't ever notice until he would garner a sniff of the coconut shampoo that drifted from her silky chestnut hair.

It was sickening at times—the way he felt about her. When he was sitting next to her now, he watched as she let her fingers grace over the laptop keys, focused in on whatever task she was working on. His eyes moved away when he watched as her teeth loosened on her lower lip, letting the plumpness of it a drawback to a straightened line of her mouth.

He shifted in his seat as he felt himself get a sensation of pressure below the belt.

When he spoke, it was with a confidence that she couldn't seem to place. It was as if he could break and make with just words alone, a skill that he had to have been born with.

As they discussed the offers more in-depth, Felicity found herself distracted from her own work as she let her eyes gently maneuver back to where Harry sat at the end of the table. Her fingers practically stopped typing as she listened to the conversation and watched as his brain work in overtime.

It wasn't just impressive; it was extraordinary.

The narrowing of his brows, the calculated glance at the table as if he could cut through it with just his sight, the determined clench of his jaw.

"Don't fucking low-ball this," Harry practically snarled as he tapped the point of his pen to his notepad. "I know what's best for this company and we don't want people who underestimate the work and quality of our services. Globally, we're ahead of the entire market– we beat out every major network in significance. If you truly want to hand us a shitty number like that, you'll fucking fall. Your company will fail, and we will continue to sit right at the top as you lick the dirt off our shoes. It's not a competition; we've already won. So, do you want to win with us? That's the question here."

There's a slow chuckle on the phone, a bit of silence, too. Felicity looks up from her laptop to watch as a few members whisper to one another before hearing John on the other end.

"Listen, it's– we understand this. SCO is globally leading, but this is an election year– how are we supposed to gain traction when the news sources from SCO are against the current climate? We just don't see the same vision right now and we need to make sure our values are aligning– SCO may not be leading once the election happens."

Harry's eyes don't dim– Felicity watches as he turns different, his focus staying on the notepad under his fingers as he takes a beat before he stares at the phone in the middle of the table.

Her leg crosses under the table, gently caressing his unbeknownst to her. His eyes falter for once, as she retracts her position when she watches him crack for the first time. She noticed that he faltered but only a small huff of his breath before she bit her lip.

"We're a multi-billion-dollar company that focuses on the current political climate at hand since we completely understand the market, unlike someone who needs to be bought out to ensure that they don't sink. If you're just sitting in the open water, we will look the other way when a shark comes by," Harry shrugs, "I don't quite understand your vision of understanding moral compasses when you're sitting on significant lawsuits and company fouls that don't seem to benefit you right now or the lying, cheating words that come from your mouth."

Felicity's eyes flew up from her place at the table, watching as she saw everyone else's down. It was an unmistakable feeling of vigor that suddenly oozed from the place of Harry's seat. His demeanor was powerful, it was penetrable.

The quietness over the phone doesn't seem to faze anyone else, but Harry's eyebrow arches at the seconds that go by before he pops his tongue into the side of his mouth with a cheeky grin that was questioning on mad.

"Looks like they just got eaten by that fucking shark, huh." He says quietly before leaning over to press onto the conference room phone. He ended the call before he watched the room continue in silence.

Another woman, Laura, sitting at one of the sides spoke up as she held her phone in her hands.

"It looks like they're countering again." It was a bit quiet, almost like she didn't want the entire room to hear as she read on her phone before looking up at Harry, who held the emotion of a bear.

"Tell them they can choke on their own spit." He bites before Felicity cleared her throat.

His eyes immediately softened at the way that she interrupted, mostly because he was a bit confused by it.

"Mr. Styles," She pipped, "I—I, um, if I may." She chews on her lip a bit before she takes in a breath. "It sounds like they're needing a bit more leverage. Maybe a bit more face-to-face interaction that will cut and garner the deal. You're going to need more than John's input; he needs more intel from other aspects to understand what their losses look like."

Harry's eyes simply rest on Felicity as he leans back in the office chair, his legs crossed—a pursed pout on his lips as he nods at her words. A trickle of egotistical pride lies beneath his chest as he stares at her for a moment.

"Set the scene for me." He tells her, before watching Felicity take a deep breath. He watches her chest fall and rise and something about it sets him into high gear.

"Your family started this from scratch—this company is bigger than just the cash flow, and it's completely understood that it's worth billions, but they need to understand that there's a larger purpose for the work that they've put into it. They're not on the same business level that SCO is—it's apparent by the way that they throw around their value system. Meet with John outside of the office setting, get him where he can be able to see that you're serious without the psychological barrier of the phone—"

"That's fucking bullshit." Felicity hears from down the table, another man making a comment about her complete train of thought that. "You really think business is about emotion?"

Harry narrowed his brows, Felicity a bit surprised but not completely. Her head turning back towards her computer.

"You need to be thinking internally for what's best for us, not babying them to give us what we want. You know they're going to fall right into our hands, we don't need to get soft on them." Mary, a woman that Felicity generously thought would at least have an understanding of her interests, seemed to shame her more.

Harry pursed out his lips as he stares at the notepad in front of him. He pushed his hands against the table to rise from his seat before he's raised, watching silently as he eyes Felicity quickly before he starts to make his way out of the room. Before he does so, he turns his back and holds onto the door before he looks at Felicity directly.

"Felicity, please meet me in my office."

She swallows down the lump in her throat; cursing herself for even making a peep. She knew she should have kept her mouth shut. Instead, she closed the laptop before she grabs the few belongings and makes her way out of the door.

Harry is steps ahead of her, not looking back, as they make their way to the office that sits in the north side of the larger office space.

When he walks in, he makes his way to his desk before leaning on it. Felicity walks in behind him, hesitating before

Harry notices that she hasn't fully made her way in yet.

"Come in," He tells her, "Take a seat."

Her words practically spilling out of her as soon as they reached the threshold of the door; there was nothing that she could say now that would make him keep her there, but she wanted to at least try.

"I-I know I overstepped my boundaries– I promise, I really do, I promise I will never do that again," She's holding the laptop against her chest, practically begging, "This is extremely unprofessional, but you need to know that I need this–"

"Do you know why you're still here, Felicity?" He asks, "Why you're still at SCO?"

His interrupted words make hers fall short as she stands at the door still. His arms are holding himself practically against the desk as he leans back against it.

Tears threaten her eyes as she tries to think of what she needs to pack from her desk quickly. This feels entirely too personal– he's firing her on the spot.

She shakes her head as she doesn't want to come up with an answer. Harry squints his eyes a bit as he notices the emotion that starts to creep on her face. All the sudden, he feels bad for what he's doing to her.

It feels a bit forward, maybe a bit out of his place. But he needs her to know exactly how he feels about her, and why the last assistants never stuck around.

He needs her to know that's she's different.

"It's because you're fucking smart," He tells her, "What you have, they lack. You have this– well, for lack of a better word, you're emotional. You can see beyond the bullshit and really down to the person." He points towards the area of the conference room that they just left.

"I'm not here to baby your ass or carry you through this job– you don't need this fucking job. You have so much more about you than being an assistant, okay? So, don't take what some fuckers in that office say about you and your ideas as gospel. They aren't getting it done, either– as you can see."

Felicity's demeanor loosens at his words; her knuckles along the laptop at her chest starts to loosen as she breathes in just a bit.

"I'm sorry–"

"Stop apologizing." He orders, "When you do that, all you're doing is making them right about you. They aren't."

There's a silence between them for a moment before Felicity nods a few times and bites at her lip. "You're right."

"Most of the time." He tells her, a smirk has replaced the seriousness of their conversation. "That's why I have this big office and a 300ft. yacht and they don't."

She follows with her own small, sided smirk, watching as he goes to move from his position.

"That sounded very cocky, I'm sorry." He laughed a little bit, lowering his head as he felt a bubble of laughter. Felicity followed behind, laughing a bit as she bit on her lower lip.

The tension had been cut; this overwhelming feeling of comfort had started to come across her, specifically when Harry looked back up at her and she could see the shining level of his green eyes and the deepening dimples crossing his face.

It wasn't an emotion she saw very often; it looked impossibly lovely on him.

"Stop saying sorry, remember?" She reminded him, a sheepish smile laying on her lips.

Harry moved his fists into his pockets as he started to walk a bit towards her.

It was then that Felicity recognized that his pure power and force was enough to knock her down to her knees. The way that he stood up, his suit tailored perfectly around his small hips and shoulders, she couldn't understand the feeling that had come over her suddenly.

Harry approached her, they were standing eye to eye as he searched between them both. He had been searching for something, surely, by the way his eyes moved between her own.

Felicity tipped her chin up a little bit; it was slight enough that they both noticed, but a sudden embarrassment crossed her thought at the way she had possibly invited a completely inappropriate behavior.

"Let's get back in there, yeah?" She clears her throat as she turned her head and body, moving back out towards the conference room.

Harry's fists tightened next to him at the way she moved away, and he couldn't help but shutter at what could have possibly happened moments ago.

He lowered his head before he shook it a few times, "Yes, of course," He confirmed, nodding at her, "I'll follow you back, I'm just going to," He felt himself getting hot which made him feel vulnerable to her stares. "I'll be in there in a moment."

Felicity turned, her hair falling over her shoulders before she nodded. "Yeah, no problem."

Before she was able to move out of the room, Harry caught her attention once again before he narrowed his eyes to her. "Can I—that reservation I asked you to schedule. Please move it to Friday night. Something's come up, actually."

Felicity made a motion to speak, but she didn't end up with any words. Instead, just nodding a few times, her eyes smiling back at him as she agreed to his request. "Sure, no problem."

Her smile had vanished from his view as she turned to walk back to the conference room.

When she noticed that she was out of sight, his eyes had widened just at the breath that he had been holding in. It didn't matter how big or important a meeting could be, Harry never got nervous. He was never worried about anything—he knew what he was getting himself into, and nothing scared him. There wasn't a reason to be.

Standing in front of Felicity was a feeling he had never imagined would give him a doubt; he never felt like he would be pushed away or turned away, and the feeling of dismissal was encapsulating, to say the least.

He pushed his hand into his hair as he went to sit in the chair that was pushed in behind his desk, swallowing the lump in his throat as he shook his head.

Never in a million years did he think that he would feel such a way—never like this.

"Let's get back to work, then."

_______________

It had been a few days since the encounter in his office. Harry had noticed that even the next morning, Felicity seemed to be in much better spirits. Her head was held high; her shoulders were sitting back, like she was prepared to keep her chin up for the day.

He could catch glimpses from his office, watching as she typed away or smiled down at her phone. A piece of him felt only the slightest bit of—he didn't know the feeling very well—jealous. He wanted to know more, wanted to understand what she could have been smiling at.

He knew that his job had been done a few days ago as he watched her spirits rise just at his words. Something about that feeling was missing now—he didn't understand what it was, but his ego may have been getting in the way just a bit.

Harry sat his pen down that he had been using to write out some tasks before he grabbed the pad of paper and started to make his way out of his office. The small desk that sat outside of his was taken by Felicity; a few photos and memorabilia sat to give her space a bit of light and personalization.

It didn't mimic Harry's own office very well, as his was kept more straightforward and narrower. There wasn't any photos or personalized mementos—just plain, really. But the photo of Felicity and another man caught his eye, something he had never really seen before. Something he never felt that he would have had to pay attention to, that is.

"That your boyfriend?" He felt himself saying, but an ultimate feeling of embarrassment rose as he watched Felicity look up at him quickly. It was clear that she hadn't really noticed him sneak up on her, and her hands flew to the phone on the desk before closing the screen promptly.

"Uh," She shook her head, "I—I mean, we've been talking a few months," She referenced to the phone before she looked back at Harry and noticed that there may have been a bit of miscommunication.

"Oh—uh, no, sorry," He shook his head, pointing to the photo that sat on her desk. "I was—that photo, I'd never seen that before."

Felicity turned her eyes towards the photo that sat on her desk in the black frame before letting out a breath of relief. "Oh! No, that's my brother." She laughed a little bit before she watched Harry reach out to grab the picture frame off her desk.

He studied it for a few seconds, letting his smile move up a bit before he sat it back down. "Yeah, you guys look alike. I just—it was new, so I didn't know."

Felicity bit on her lip before tucking her hair behind her ears, "No—yeah, I would make that assumption, too. It's fine, but yeah." She didn't know that he would notice that she set up the photo or not. She knew now that he paid attention; he had an attention to detail, it seemed.

The small moment gave Harry a bit of concern as he felt that there was some unresolved feeling between the two of them. He cleared his throat, holding the paper out before her as she piqued at the small task guide that Harry had been feverishly writing down.

"I have a few things that I need to get done today, if you don't mind." He had handed her the paper before her eyes ran over it a few times. "It's just a few little things, but I need to have a few suits dry-cleaned for our business summit on Monday in England—I'm flying out tomorrow morning on the jet, but we'll need to make sure that everything is taken care of for that. I believe you, myself, Laura, Hank, Daniel, and probably William will be there, so we'll need to make—"

"Excuse me, but," Felicity chuckled before shaking her head a few times. "Did you say me?"

Harry blinks a few times in confusion before he bites the inside of his cheek. Surely, she knew that she would be leaving in the morning– she had to have known that as his assistant, she would be most responsible for being on the trip.

"Uh, well," Harry blinked, "Yes, I mean. of course. You're the most vital person for the trip, really."

Felicity bit into her lip before she turned towards her notes, her eyes flickering over them as she realized she wouldn't need to send him a detailed email of their agenda– she'd be there to tell him in person. So, all this work—it didn't matter now.

"Right– yeah, of course. I'm stupid for not putting that together." She shook her head as she took in a sigh, crossing out a few notes on her pad. She turned her attention back to him before she cleared her throat. "What time should I be at the airport tomorrow, then?"

Harry bit his lip, shrugging as he felt the smile crossing his lips, "I don't know—you tell me. You're my assistant."

Felicity blinked at him a few times before laughing out a little bit, letting her head rest in her hands as she felt a bit ridiculous for feeling so caught off guard. "Right—right. I—yeah."

In the back of his head, there was a delicate feeling of intrigue that bit at the back of him. He squinted his eyes a bit as he settled against the edge of her desk. As he crossed his arms over his chest, he narrowed his attention down to Felicity until she looked up at him and felt the wandering look. All Felicity knew is that she didn't want to look at the way that his forearms protruded against the fabric of his pressed white button-down.

"Is everything alright?" He asked her, the smile on his lips tug briefly before he was letting it fully on display. "You seem a bit... caught up."

She blinked a few times, shaking her head as she looked at her computer screen. "I'm fine—yeah. I'm just—I was a bit caught up, I guess," She chewed on her lip as she realized that getting personal was just that. It was personal. She didn't want to bore him or let know too far in. Their relationship was strictly business; it seemed that she endeared him though.

Her eyes traveled back to him when he didn't seem to leave her alone and she noticed that she'd had another message.

"I'm just... the guy I've been seeing, well, on and off—he just asked me to dinner and he's picking me up from here tonight around five. We haven't seen each other in a while, he's a bit..." She bites her lip again as she tried to find the right word, "I don't hear from him often. But when we're together, everything is fine. So, I guess I just got a bit overwhelmed with it."

Harry pinches the inside of his bicep when she speaks, his smile fading just a bit. He didn't want her to notice that, though. He didn't know why, but it left a sour taste in his mouth to think that she had been excited for someone who was making her wait. Instead, he shifted a bit on the desk as he cleared his own throat before speaking.

"That's—that's great," He tells her, watching as she smiles at his appreciation and acceptance, "Where is he taking you?"

"We're just going to this place off from fifth avenue, some place he said is nice. We're really just meeting for a beer or something." Felicity's eyes light up at the realization before she turns to face him a bit head on now, her chair swiveling around before she crosses her legs and faces him. "What about you, though? That reservation I made for you tonight—who are you meeting with?"

Harry's lip parted as he remembered the reservation.

He remembered the reservation he had moved to tonight, simply so that he could flesh out a few details with Felicity over a dinner with just the two of them. Of course, he hadn't mentioned it to her. It was stupid of him to think that she wouldn't be busy on a Friday evening, of course. He had wanted to talk to her about the upcoming week; maybe get a little more out of her if everything was off the record at a dinner that wasn't going on the company credit card, but his own personal dollar.

Harry shakes his head a bit before he scratches at the back of his head, "Uh, right. I—I might need to cancel that. I don't think that's going to happen anymore."

Felicity watches his expression before she seems to mimic with a bit of somber. "Oh. Sorry. Tough subject?"

When he pushed himself from her desk, he placed his hands in his pockets before he hung his head a little bit. It hadn't occurred to him that the disappointment had been a bit stronger than anticipated-- and it wasn't just because he always got what he wanted.

"Hm, something like that," He tried to explain before he changed the subject to get it off his mind, "But yeah. So, dry-cleaning and all that can be finished before the morning, yeah? If you have any questions about any of that, I'll be in my office. Meeting at one and then I'm going to leave here around five."

Giving him a warm smile, Felicity nodded her head at him, watching as he turned to his office.

Her attention fell back to her phone; falling back to the smile and giddiness that had been so rudely interrupted by a different kind of feeling—one that she wasn't so sure she was supposed to enjoy, in that way, anyways.

_______________

The black Suburban pulled up against the curb; Harry's phone against his ear as he moved towards the vehicle in a fluid motion.

A driver had opened the door before he crawled in the back seat. The call on the other end had been a business call that he was supposed to listen in on; he wasn't going to speak, just listen to the meeting of what was said. He decided it had been enough and clicked it to end before he looked up and out of the window.

His head turned towards the door before he watched Felicity standing at the curb. She looked uncomfortable as she stood and had her eyes searching for whatever it was that she was looking for.

It was a little bit past six then; the rest of the day was filled with a meeting or two before he really started to get more work, letting his head get wrapped up in taking calls and finishing off emails before he would be away from the office for a bit.

This was how they left each other on most days; his car pulled up, and he usually drove away before he could notice if she caught another ride or if she headed towards the subway. Her eyes were searching— almost like she had been waiting for something or someone but didn't want to seem disappointed. Harry could feel it in his chest—he could feel the way that she stood with her arms crossed over her chest in a bit of distress.

It had occurred to him then that Felicity had mentioned that she was supposed to be picked up around five—a full hour ago.

The rain had started just a bit, enough that she quickly looked to the sky for a moment as if to curse it.

He watched as her phone fumbled in her hands. A discerned look on her face made him halt the driver before they could start pulling away. Harry watched her, the knowing look on his face as he rolled down the window to call out towards her.

"Felicity," He stated, opening the door before he stepped out. "Come on, get in."

Her eyes looked to him, practically mortified. Her head started to shake a bit before he moved out of the car just enough that she noticed his offer was serious and that he wasn't moving. The door was open now as he stood outside of it and held it open for her.

"Let's go– it's raining." He said, squinting a bit as the rain started coming down a bit more.

It seriously took Harry a moment before he realized that it may take a bit more for Felicity to listen to him; her contemplation didn't last long as the rain started to hit the cement loudly—her papers and bag held over her head as she made her way towards the open door of the large vehicle.

Felicity's heels clicked against the sidewalk as she hurried into the back of the van, crawling across to the other side and trying to keep her skirt down as she realized he would be coming right behind her.

There was a brief pause of silence when the door shut behind Harry.

Once they were situated in the backseat, Harry looked at her for a moment as she seemed a bit out of sorts. Her eyes were on her phone as she cleared her throat.

Her eyes were narrowed down as she searched through some texts, a bit all over the place it seemed. Harry knew Felicity better than this, and her nerves were starting to overwhelm her hand, almost like she was completely unsure of what was happening right now.

"Do you just—do you mind dropping me off at fifth ave—" She had started, but he was already shaking his head.

"He's not showing up, so no. Peter, drop us at The Malbec."

Her head turned towards him at the bluntness of his tone and the way that he resisted her need. The way that he answered her was unlike he had ever spoken to her; that caught her off guard the most.

Felicity flipped through her texts once again before she scoffed out, "Harry, I have a date tonight. I'll just get a car from there—"

"No, you won't." He told her, before situating himself in the back. The way that her hair had a bit of windswept to it, the length of her lashes, the complete blush of her cheeks—it was all enough for him to generally bust at the seams.

Seeing her like that was a wake-up call as he looked away and tried his best to be a gentleman.

"I'm off the clock, so my duties are relinquished for the night." She told him sharply, giving herself a bit more voice before Harry really glared at her this time. He had never heard her speak to him in such a way, but something about it gave him a mouthful to bite from.

"Don't fucking talk to me like that, I'm your boss." He told her; his eyes seemingly turning a darker color the more she stared at him. It was enough for her to scoff and turn her head out of the window as they had started to drive up towards the restaurant that she refused to go to.

Harry spoke again, this time a bit softer. "It's just dinner. No work."

It takes a moment before Felicity leans into the window and lets her head rest against the glass. The feeling of the coolness takes over before she shuts her eyes for a moment. It doesn't feel like she wants to cry, but maybe there's a bit of emotion that she can't seem to let go of.

The disappointment aspect was never good to her; that was how this always worked. Something always disappointed her. There hadn't been a moment when she felt comfortable or safe—no, really, she just wandered around in this life with so much hope. So much hope and very little pride, now.

She lived for the hope of it all.

When they made their way to the restaurant, it had started to rain a little less. It was merely a sprinkle before Peter pulled off to the curb closest and the two of them were able to get out.

Felicity was instructed that she could leave her work items in the car, bringing only her purse as Harry followed behind her. When they walked into the restaurant, her eyes widened at how fancy it was—the dim lit lights were much brighter than the sky had been at this time of day, especially when the clouds rolled in.

The host was able to take them directly to their seats—the ones that Felicity had made the reservation for. It was an intimate seat; two chair and a small table that were seated close to the window, but enough away from everyone else.

The Paulliac was on the table as instructed; the host pulled the chair out for Felicity before she was able to take a seat. The only reason she would have ever been to a restaurant like this is for a work event. The host sat menus in front of them before giving them some space.

Harry pushed his sleeves up on his forearm; the littering of tattoos on him was endearing to Felicity's eye before she looked away at the attention she was drawing to them.

"Wine?" He asked her softly, taking the bottle from the table and holding it out in a means to offer her some. She had agreed, nodding a few times before looking at the menu and the items on it. Surely, she couldn't pronounce half of them before she looked up to see that Harry had been looking at her already and her cheeks grew rosier.

Felicity felt that there was a tenseness now, like she didn't have too much to say. She didn't want to say too much and bore him, she didn't want to not say a word and feel the awkwardness that seemed to linger as they sat longer.

"I mean, since we're here," Felicity grabbed the phone from her purse as she scrolled through it, pushing her hair out of her face to tame it a bit from the frizz that the rain caused, "So, just to recap some new additions to the calendar, you have a dental appointment next Monday, a meeting with PLI at 10—"

"You said you grew up in DC, didn't you?" Harry cuts her off, his question making her turn to look at him with a solid glance before she starts to nod a few times. It was a bit unwarranted, but she decided that she would settle into it.

Felicity doesn't know why his soft voice seems so foreign from the bitter sound of his usual bite.

"Y-Yes, yeah, I grew up in Northern Virginia, actually." She gives him a solid answer before she licks her lips. Her hand moves to grab the wine glass, taking a solid sip before she places it back into its spot on the white knit tablecloth.

Harry nods at her simple answer, not necessarily looking for anything else. His head was filled with the worked he had been processing through the week, and something about this felt... warranted. He wanted this to be normal; to feel like she could see him from a different perspective, maybe, without less fear in her eyes.

Something about her makes his blood boil with a derailment—it's almost like he can't seem to read her, which makes him angry and animalistic, almost. He doesn't know why but he feels a bit shy in her presence.

Her eyes read over the menu before she clicks her tongue, "Anything on here that you would recommend?"

"You have any food aversions?" He asks, pretending to look over the menu as if he didn't already know what he was going to order.

She shook her head, not really thinking of anything. She knew that there were foods she didn't particularly enjoy, but she knew that if something was going to be expensive, she would put that aside to at least try.

When the waiter came by, Harry took initiate to order for the table– the two of them. He ordered an entrée, three appetizers, and a spring salad. Felicity listened as he did so, knowing that he knew what he wanted and when he wanted it.

She couldn't relate to that; not these days, at least. She didn't know what she wanted, so she pretended not to think about it most days. Instead, she recognized that not putting the pressure on it made it feel like it was enough; she had to understand that she was okay to be a bit unsure at times.

The restaurant has a crowded chatter amongst the guests, but Harry can't help but pay attention to the silence of the table instead.

"So," He pulls at the tie around his neck just a bit as he leans towards her at the table. "I'm thinking of possible meeting with PLI, in person. Like you mentioned this week, at that meeting. Something about looking someone in the eye might be the best approach and making sure everything is clean."

His eyes lifted to meet hers, watching as she took another sip of the wine. Her eyes were placed now on her hands that laid in her lap.

"Thought this wasn't a work dinner." She mumbled out, but suddenly caught herself, "But yeah– yeah, I think that would be good."

Harry pressed his tongue into his cheek, tilting his head a little bit as he heard her questioned statement. His frustration at not being able to read her was posing a threat to his mood before he shrugged a little bit, "It doesn't have to be, but you are kind of quiet, and I feel like I made you uncomfortable in the car. Or something."

"I'm not uncomfortable," She lied, "I'm– I don't know. I'm just a bit thrown by the events of the evening, and I think men are kind of preposterous right now. Please don't take that personally, and really, no offense or anything."

Harry shrugged, his lips turning downwards as he contemplated the truth in her statement, "None taken. I may agree with you, but," He licked his lips, "Can we agree that women are sometimes a bit..."

As he hesitated for a moment, Felicity spoke instead. "I would suggest that you not finish that sentence, probably. It sounds like the beginning of an HR concern."

Harry lifts a brow in curiosity from her argument that seemingly pushed her a bit out of the boundaries, "You can speak, but I can't? Don't believe that's a fair view of how you think women should live in society, is it? You want fair treatment, so I'm going to be honest with you."

"I didn't limit you from speaking, I just suggested that you should not. You can definitely say whatever it is that you'd like to say to me, Mr. Styles." Felicity shook her head a bit, tucking her hair behind her ear. The way that she said his name always made him a bit woozy.

There was a moment when Harry wasn't completely sure that he didn't see the glimmer in her eye—that he didn't see a sparkle that may have been a fleeting moment, just a quick nod to him before it was gone forever, making him look mad for even thinking it in the first place.

"I will say it, then, if you're willing to listen," Harry told her, "I think that men and women aren't usually equal—nor should they be," He paused for a moment before he watched as her facial expression started to contour with a confusion so loud that he was certain the chefs in the back could hear. "I think that we live in a balancing act. For instance, the guy that you were looking to see—sure, he's probably an asshole, but you continued to want to see him. The pendulum works both ways. Maybe you shouldn't have wanted to meet up with him."

Felicity scoffed out a breath before she took a sip of the wine again—she could feel that there was a growing fuzziness that she wasn't able to keep up with. "Oh, you're giving me relationship advice now?"

The way that she bit when she had a bit of alcohol in her made Harry's eyes turn a darker shade of green that was unable to be noticed by the dimness of the restaurant that sat in. It was much more direct than she ever had been with him before; he wondered if this was how she was normally.

"I like to think I have your best interest in mind." He tells her with full honesty, feeling a bit bare with the truth laying flat on the table.

There is a moment that Felicity feels her heartstring tug, wondering if he meant it to hit her as specifically as it did. But she clears her throat when she watches the way that Harry refills the glass of red wi the out her asking for it, noticing that he fingers tremble when he grabs the bottle.

"I— I really do appreciate it, like, what you– I mean, you probably don't remember, but just this week with the whole coffee incident–"

Felicity is cut-off, by him, but she can see that the anger peculates off of him as he recalls the incident, "I hate that they think people are below them like that. It bothers the shit out of me," She can tell that the thought bothers him; his eyes narrow down as he takes a sip of his own wine, "Yes, it's your fucking job, but it's also not worth their time to be shitty to you for something you can't control. And you couldn't be nicer, grateful, kind—"

Harry's cut off by the food coming to the table. He shakes his head at the possible embarrassment he may encounter from the softness of rambling he had started to portray about some of her highest qualities.

The dinner that came out was exceptional— nothing less of what Felicity could have imagined. It was top-tier; the wine that was paired with it made her giggle a few times when Harry would go on rants about the way that he thought some of the companies ran. He would start the conversation with, 'off the record' and she would smile about how he could keep their conversations low.

It wasn't until she had told a soft-spoken jab about how she believed that he needed to stop hiring old, white men that she noticed that his dimples were parallel on either side of his face. They lit up his features, turning his eyes the color of a southern sky.

When they had finished, Harry took the check with ease and signed his name in capital letters, as if he wanted everyone to know that he had spent the amount of money at dinner that she spent in a month of rent.

Harry placed his hand on the small of her back as they maneuvered out to the car. The street was starting to become a bit crowded, especially at the door for the wait. Harry had texted his driver to make sure they could be picked up, which again, he made sure to open the door for her as they flew into the backseat.

Felicity told the driver where she needed to go; back to her apartment that sat on the upper West side of the city. It was close to Central Park; a few blocks away, she'd say.

There's a moment when Harry feels that he doesn't want the night to end. He surely doesn't want to watch her leave— that's for sure. The car ride is spent with him catching her glances as they watch the lights in the city pass by; the honking of the cars and the putter of rain starts to encapsulate the backseat.

"Is this good for drop off?" The driver asks, looking in the rearview mirror at Felicity before she nods, agreeing with a soft yes, and starts to collect her things. The items she had brought from work were still in their place.

Harry watched as she goes to speak, knowing that it was going to be a goodbye. He would surely see her in the morning, but he couldn't bare the idea of flying across the ocean, staring at her across the seat from himself, without any words left unspoken.

"Uh," He shifted a bit in the back of the car, Felicity could see that he was looking up towards the building that she called her own. "Do you actually mind if—uh, I really have to piss."

Her eyes widened a bit before she let her own lips widen into a smirk. "Oh— yeah, please."

It hadn't occurred to her until they were walking up the steps and into the building that she may have had some underwear on the floor and could potentially have a sink filled with dirty dishes— she couldn't quite remember.

But what she did know was that Harry was following in her steps as they climbed a few flights until they reached the third floor.

"Quite a workout, huh?" Harry puffed as they reached the front door to her specific apartment.

"Hm," She hummed, "Imagine having to move all of my furniture up here. I had to ask random men on the street to help me."

Felicity digs into her purse before she's able to find the keys to the front door.

"I don't want to be super nosy," He looked around the small vestibule that they were standing in while Felicity tried to find her keys—even though the purse she held was naturally quite small. "But is there any reason you live in a place that resembles a prison?"

Felicity chuckled out a laugh before she found the small keyring and tried to put it into the lock. Her hands were a bit unsteady—the wine was holding the buzz over her as she steadied her hands to unlock the small door.

"This is what livable looks like in New York," The door swung open; Felicity moved into the tiny apartment before placing her bag on the kitchen counter. "Maybe I need to have a discussion with my boss about a raise."

It wasn't the smallest apartment, but it was exactly what she needed. There was no storage space, but there was a separate room for each need—living room, kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom. She had a small working office in the corner by the balcony that she had been lucky enough to score from this specific unit.

Harry looked around the place, his eyes feasting on every detail. "That can probably be arranged if I can be certain that you won't get mugged getting into your front door."

He noticed how lived in it felt—the opposite of the cool, modern, high-end penthouse he would resort to later that evening. Everything was painted a different color of beige, keeping the lightness of the empty place very noticeable.

There were photos on the walls, painting and portraits, there were words that resembled some of her favorite music and books. It was colorful and there were plants that were seemingly a bit out of control.

"The bathroom is right there, by the way." Felicity pointed, before Harry turned towards the small room to his left.

"Thanks." He stated before he moved into it and shut the door behind him.

It was the same reaction he had to the living room and kitchen; his eyes narrowed in on the details of the shower curtain and the small bottles of serum that sat along her sink. The way that her toothbrush was bright pink, matching the towels that hung on the wall.

There were delicate parts of her that he was certain she wouldn't have told him about because she didn't think that it mattered. But in the long run, he liked the bits of color and the pieces of art that hung next to her sink.

It was a detail he hadn't really thought about of her before.

When he had come back, he stared at her position in front of the sink. Her sleeves were rolled up as she washed a few dishes that had been sitting there. Her heels has been removed, but the jacket and the short skirt still hung from her delicate frame as he watched the way that she focused on a task.

She noticed that he was looking at her now before she gave a small smile and felt that he wasn't in a hurry to leave.

"I would offer you something to drink—I mean, I would offer you anything, but I'm not really," She looked around the kitchen. "I have coffee and vodka. And not like," She scrunched her brows together as she looked in her fridge. "Not good vodka. You would look down on me if I served you this, kind of vodka."

Harry let his smile tilt up a bit as he meandered into the small space of the kitchen. If she was offering him anything—

"You really think I'm that much of a snob?" He smirked.

Felicity huffed a little bit as she turned her head towards him, "The wine we drank tonight was $600 a bottle."

He doesn't say anything for a moment before he tilts his head a bit and shrugs off the comment. He wonders if she thinks of him differently—not for being her boss, but for having a high taste. Possibly the earlier of the two, too.

"I grew up that way, I guess. It's hard to decipher what's normal." He tries to explain to her, which makes her look at him with a mockery of a face. Her eyes roll with a smile, and he gives her a look of disdain.

She goes to respond to him, but instead he moves his body practically over top of her back to grab the vodka that sits on the second shelf of the fridge. It's a bottle that cost Felicity about $12.75 just the other week, and it has a good amount still left in it. Harry holds the neck of it in his hands before he looks at it and sets it down on the counter.

"Lemons? Juice? Anything?" He asks; taking the liberty himself to look through one of the cabinets to try and find himself a glass. Felicity stays still for a moment before she's able to grasp the magnitude of the situation.

Her boss—Harry Styles, CEO, is standing in her kitchen and trying to make himself a cocktail with her $12.75 vodka that she had bought at the bodega just a few days prior. He's perusing through the cabinets—the few that she had—before he turns to her.

"Uh, I have a bar cart." She tells him solidly, before she moves her way into the living room where the car sat. Her head is feeling fuzzy, and she wonders if adding the vodka to it will make her completely lose all faith in herself. She has a feeling it will make her say something absolutely ridiculous, to him of all people.

Felicity grabs the shaker, two glasses, a lemon from one of the small bowls that she uses for décor but also for moments like this and makes her way to the kitchen where Harry has already taken the ice trays out. When he looks back up at her, he nods back to where she came from, her eyes following his gaze.

"Go sit on the couch, let me make you a drink." He tells her, "You had a long week."

"I'm going to be completely honest with you," She folds her hands together before he looks at her with a bit of a concerned look, "I don't know if I like the roles reversed like this."

He gives her a smug smile before he turns back to what he had been doing previously; now filling up the shaker with ice before he poured a few seconds worth of vodka into it.

"You think I'm a stuck-up prick," He tells her, "Let me show you that I'm not, will you?"

The statement that he left on his lips settled in the air between them; Felicity blew it away as she breathed outwards and just nodded in place. She suddenly became a bit meek before she made her way back to the sofa where she settled into the cloudy cushions, sitting with her legs underneath of her as she tried not to flash anything from her skirt. She heard Harry mixing the cocktails in the glass shaker, shortly before coming out with two glasses in his hands.

He hands over a glass that looks solemnly... clear. Maybe a bit too clear, but she felt satisfied to know that he was trying his best to make a spot in her world. She didn't have to climb to his level, he was trying to stay at hers.

"To..." He trailed off as he held his glass up to her. The small loveseat that they sat on felt incredibly intimate all the sudden.

"To... London?" Felicity stated, "To having to be up tomorrow at five, but continuing to drink even though we can get to London."

Harry laughed at her words before he clinked his glass against hers, "To London."

The way that his accent wrapped itself around certain words held her attention briefly before she was able to take a sip of the cocktail he prepared. Strong wasn't the word; overkill may have been more like it.

"Holy fuck," She coughed softly before she felt a sting in her eyes, "That's—please never go into bartending."

A subtle look of offense took over his face as he went to take a sip of his own before he widened his eyes at the flavor of it. "Oh, shit. Yeah, wow. That—that'll do some damage."

Felicity started to laugh at his own reaction before she sat the drink down on the coffee table and watched Harry do the same.

"So, to brief then," She stated, "I believe that it's still true that you're just a stuck-up snob who can't do anything on his own, including making a cocktail."

Harry stood up for a moment but took offense to her comment. He started to remove his jacket, which only intrigued her—it meant he was staying a while longer. "Hey, to my defense, your fridge is very, very sad. There was not much I could have done to make this better. If you're going to drink vodka, at least buy a decent brand."

Felicity tucked the hair behind her ear, "I'm here to make vodka Sprite's, okay? Not martinis," She leaned against the back of the sofa, "And there you go again with being the rich snob."

It was annoying to her that he had decided to roll up his sleeve, just enough on his forearm that she was able to see the tattoos that weren't seen very often. Seldom, really. In the office, she would notice that he would be focusing on something in his office, his sleeve rolled up a bit, but that was the extent of it.

It seemed there were many more up his arm than she had initially thought, but she knew that she would never see them all.

When he went to sit down, he went to move the throw pillow behind his arm, but as he did so, he noticed something black against the white couch cushion.

Immediately, his fingers flew to the item before he lifted the lace that held his attention quite mesmerizingly. Felicity gasped at the realization before she grabbed them from his hands, absolutely mortified didn't even cut it.

"I'm so embarrassed," She finally spoke, almost trying to blame the redness of her cheeks on the strong beverage he gave her. She knew that it was the inflammation of her dignity, not the vodka.

There wasn't a word spoken before she watched that his expression changed surprisingly. He took a long sip of the vodka drink before setting it back down.

But the smile that follows from the cocktail is all she needs to see before she can smile back.

"You continue to surprise me," His words were placed with a package of slurring vocab before he swallows back anything else he'd say out of pocket, "I'm going to be very honest that I didn't imagine you as— I mean, I never imagined you in lace."

"You say that like you imagined me in something else." The words that came from Felicity weren't her own—she didn't know why she said them, but his quick rebuttal shut her up completely.

"Silk, probably," He uses his finger to touch the rim of the rocks glass that he's holding, where the condensation made a drip over the dress pants that situation themselves over his thighs, so lucky. "Or—I mean, you could surprise me even more," He went quick after a moment.

Silence. Protruding silence that is viciously capturing them in this haze of only breath that either of them can hear. It's uninterrupted until Harry leans his head back and the creaking on the sofa fills Felicity's head, rather than the idea of what's to come.

She had felt it before; the warranted tension that Harry seemed to have over her. Maybe it was her fault for leaning into it, but sometimes, she just couldn't help it. The way that he found himself taken by her was just unspoken most of the time. She was surprised that he wouldn't have pulled anything at dinner, but she could fill in the blanks as she invited him up to her apartment.

It was inevitable, she thought.

She shouldn't have done that, but should not's were not what she was thinking about as she drowned herself in the alcoholic state of the sour vodka that wafted of lemon juice and baited words.

Instead, Felicity blinked a few times, watching as he stared at the ceiling. The blankness of the pure white ceiling seemed to keep him grounded before she watched his jaw tighten.

"You're full of surprises, a lot of mystery, you know?" Harry breathed out. The tie around his neck was getting tight, but he couldn't loosen it now—if he was being honest, it was adding to the pleasure of the moment. He wouldn't speak that out, but while the tightness caused a bit of discomfort, he thought of it in other instances. "I'm not sure I can keep up with it."

There was an unresolved tension in the words he spoke, maybe even a bit of slur in them before Felicity followed suit; her head resting practically next to his as she stared at the blank white ceiling that had very little to memorize or stare at.

"What fun is a mystery if it's solved?"

He wasn't sure if she saw—he wasn't sure if she saw the way that his eyes fluttered at the thought of uncovering every instance of mystery that she kept hidden away, in this small apartment. The air was starting to become lost on them, feeling like the oxygen was being pulled as he breathed. The shakiness of his breath was caught by her when she turned her head—she wished that she hadn't.

All she could process was the way that his eyes stared upwards, lips parted in an unsure manner before she watched his eyebrows knit in a deep thought that she couldn't seem to interpret. But this pique of interest held her as she kept her eyes on him—he could feel every deep breath that she tried to mask.

"I don't know if you knew this about me," He quietly stated, "But I really can't handle the unknown."

It was then that his head turned towards her; the distance between them was much shorter than he could have thought. He didn't notice until his eyes directly moved towards the way that her lips curved in the small bow, the one that he had known so well from the number of times that he couldn't keep his eyes from her. But this was different; this held much more tension that he couldn't believe.

This time he could smell the liquor that lingered on her lips that mixed so well with the cherry of the chapstick that he knew she applied generously. He would watch the way that it slid over the lips as he sat at his desk and wondered what was on her mind.

"You're very good at getting what you want," Felicity breathed, watching as he shut his eyes for a moment. It was as if with every word she spoke, he was closer and closer to the edge of something great.

Her eyes traveled to the way that his legs sat just open—they were just waiting for someone to notice. Felicity swallowed at the idea of sitting between them, on her knees. Sitting there with her eyes laying on him; he took notice of her tense shoulders and her harbored through before he sat up just a bit. He scooted himself back on the sofa—Felicity blinked at the way that he invited her with just the flicker of his eyes.

No words needed to be spoken when the look could speak for itself, but the way that he speaks breaks the barrier of silence.

"How good am I at getting what I want?"

The heavy eyes that she held were only staring at his lips and the way that he spoke—the flicker of his tongue over the satin maroon of his lips. She couldn't contain herself, because she knew that his aura was a force to be reckoned with. She had seen it up close and personal; she knew that everything that he did was because he was in it one hundred percent.

He didn't half-ass anything—not a report, not a phone call, not a meeting, not a thought.

Everything Harry did was with the full intensive purpose of being the only thing on someone's mind, body, and soul.

Felicity trembled in the spot next to him, but her legs urged to move themselves. Her brain wasn't moving as fast as her decisions; and in an instant, her knees lowered to the spot in front of him. Her hands settling on the thick of his thigh as she allowed her eyes to hold his. For a moment, hesitation crossed his face, but she could have mistaken it for vulnerability.

The way that he breathed outwards was enough to make her gain the strength of a thousand horses—the talk that he talked wasn't as strong now, she felt a sensibility of pure radiance from her actions.

"I'd say you're the best at it, really." She let her hands settle on his thighs, but she took them away so she could drop the blazer down her arms. The tight white t-shirt settled against her frame as he watched the way that she pushed her brunette locks from her shoulders.

But his being felt incredibly taken by the way that she slowly moved—she wanted to savor every moment of this, he could tell that she was being critical, slow, and putting together each piece of herself in front of him.

That's what he thought at least, until he recognized that there was a tremble in her hand when she went to grab at the belt buckle, he barred. His hand flew to hers when she touched it; almost annoyed at himself by the look of terror that he was faced with as he knew that she had felt pushed away at that.

Instead, he pulled at her to stand up in front of him, between his legs. She did so with ease but a bit of confusion laid on her face as she stood with her hands by her side, Harry's eyes dancing along the figure—the divots in her thighs, the way the skirt just held to her so beautifully.

He let out a whimpering sound before he let his hand fall to the tightness of the front of his pants. Instantly, the pleasure trigger was pulled, and he knew what he had gotten himself into now had to be completed. It had to—he never did anything half-assed.

"Go put your heels on," He instructed her, watching as she stared at him willingly.

"A please would be nice." She tutted back, letting her lip fall into the curve of a smile.

Instantly, she knew that this wasn't a game anymore—this wasn't a fun, hushed little game of pleasure with nobody watching. She knew that the way that his eyes changed at the blink of an eye, the way that his jaw tightened at the statement: and the clear smirk on her lips faded.

"I'm not asking you," He sat up a bit, "I'm telling you."

Felicity had been used to being spoken as such; her memory fading into a moment, but her barriers kept up as she understood that her body was reacting only to the way that the words flowed from his mouth. She knew there was safety in his tone, she could see it by the way that he had stared at her with these stolen glances all night.

Instead, she followed his direction, moving back towards the door until she placed the black heels onto her feet again. They hurt just a bit from wearing them all day, she had to admit. But they made her stand taller, firmer against the fake wood flooring of her apartment. She wondered why the downstairs neighbors would think, as it became later at night.

"Come here," He told her, holding her wrist when she got close enough. He pulled her back to the place in front of him. She stood taller now, his nose practically at her bellybutton as she watched the way that he pulled her close.

Now, his hands lay on the outside of her hips, the sides of her thighs. She shuddered at the feeling, knowing that this was the first time she had been touched by him in such a manner. The musky scent of teakwood and spice drifted from the curls that settled against his forehead, she was sure of it. She could feel the heat of his breath just above where she needed him most as she stood close to him, right between his legs as he sat on the sofa.

"Do you know how many times I've thought of you like this?" He practically choked on his words, quiet, "So fucking beautiful."

She breathed out a shaky breath, holding onto every ounce of madness that she had collected over the past few moments.

"How many?" She asked him. Harry stood up, letting her take a step back as she felt the prominence of him now-- how he was a bit taller, even with her heels on. Every part of her ached—so unfamiliar to her, this feeling of need and want. It was a sensation of desperation that she hadn't known before; her inner monologue was flooded with dangerous prose as she felt his fingers cradled onto her jaw.

"More times than I'd ever be able to count." He told her, his voice deep and sharp as he pushed his hips forward. She walked backward a few steps, he followed in her lead like a waltz before he pushed her pelvis into the wall, holding it there with his own.

"You're going to be my good girl tonight, aren't you, Felicity?" His words were practically a whimper as he let his lips slide along her own; the tremble of her quivering lips made him shake in his own anticipation. "You love to listen, hm? That's why you're always taking my orders and assisting me? Getting paid to do what I say?"

It was always obvious by the pink of her cheeks and the timid ways of her soul that Harry could see right through her. From the moment she arrived on the job to the way that she completed everything task with ease; every job, every plan he needed executed, she followed in righteous order.

It made him proud, to say the least. She ran the company better than he did most days, but she didn't get half the recognition.

Until now, surely.

Her eyes nearly roll back into her head at the foul play of his words; the way that his eyes follow down the path of her lips, his thumb mapping the path down her chin before he grabbed it between his thumb and index finger.

The villainous smirk on his lips can't be seen by how close they are now.

"Does saying 'Yes, Mr. Styles' make you wet, Miss Carter?"

The question rolled off his tongue as he watched her minuscule behaviors; the way that she practically shivered against the wall made his eyes move to the way that her knees bent in just a bit.

His mouth turned up to the side as he realized that his was right yet again.

Felicity groaned in the back of her throat as she let it tip against the wall. He was practically on top of her by the way that he stood, his knee was pushing her knees apart before she was able to protest any of it. Not that she would've; she knew that it was about to turn into an evening that she couldn't have truly imagined if you had asked her just hours before.

"You're getting shy on me, again?" He remarked, but this time, it was paired with some loose kisses along her neck as he used his hand to cradle her jaw enough that she was pressing into it with ease. "What happened to that smart mouth, hm?"

Felicity ached as she breathed—her body pressured against the wall was her own doing, practically to keep herself from overwhelming herself. If she leaned into him too much, she wouldn't be able to breathe at all.

"Yes, Mr. Styles." She bit her lip at the words coming off her tongue.

She could feel that the instant gratification that came from him was filtered through the stare that he barred towards her; the way that his nose brushed against the lobe of her ear as he practically fell into her graces with three simple words.

Harry groaned at the feeling of her pressed against him then; her brain sparked a few times, trying to remember how it felt before this. How reality felt. This wasn't reality in the slightest; this was a dream.

"Tell me," He urges her, "What was his name?"

She lets her eyes wash over his face as she notices that his strength and need have put him into a trance of pleasure and further need.

"Who?" She questions.

"The guy," He lets his lip gently caress right between her chin and lip. "The guy you were supposed to see tonight."

Felicity remembered how the evening was supposed to go—her interest completely lost in that game, when this one seemed a bit more daring and fun. It felt that she was seen here; like she had been stared at for quite some time, ogled, maybe.

"Uh, S-Sam." She choked out as she felt the way that his hand pinched at the small of her waist, almost like he was trying to make sure she didn't leave.

He hummed softly before he tipped her head back, the simple press of his nose moving her head against the wall. "Fucking loser."

Her mouth instantly felt his—a righteous moment of complete satisfaction bundled beneath her. It was the first time that his lips had laid into hers, moving gently against one another as they fit perfectly in sync. It wasn't too rough—just enough to know that she was in the hands of someone who knew what she was asking just by the way that his body moved. He could read her body and react to the fact that her chest may have been pressed against the wall a bit too much, so he pulled back to give her room to breathe.

The way that they flew through her bedroom door was just as shocking to her as it was to him; it made a much larger noise than she anticipated as they practically flew over the threshold and into the creamy white sheets of her—thankfully—made bed.

He landed on top of her in the heat of the moment. Their lips stayed attached through it all, almost like they were making up for all the lost time over the years. His tongue gently caressed over her top lip, which elicited quite a whine of surprise from her.

Her hands flew to his necktie, trying to loosen it before Harry grabbed her wrist—hard enough that she barked out a whimper.

"No," He told her sharply, watching as she hesitated underneath him. Now her hair was feathered out against the bedspread, her light eyes were catching every glimpse of her. After a moment, he looked at her softly, knowing that she didn't understand the game that he was about to play.

"We are going to play by my rules tonight," He told her, watching as she pushed herself up towards the headboard. He followed her lead, letting her hands rest on the back of his head as she tried to kiss every inch down her neck. "And I have a few notes you need to take, got it?"

Felicity tried her best to stabilize her breath as she was given a moment away from their lips touching to catch it. She licked over her lips, feeling her heart pounding along her chest before she nodded against the bed and the linen comforter that laid underneath them.

Harry sat up, his hair a bit of a mess, the clothes on his body were practically ripped from the front where they had been neatly tucked. The growing need for her was obvious as he felt the tip of his cock struggling beneath the waistband of his belt. The friction made it quite hard to concentrate on what his plans had been, but he knew that he had to be firm with his requests.

"First," He instructed, "The safe word is poetry."

Felicity's eyes stared at him with quiet focus as she nodded a few times to try and understand that. She hadn't ever been with someone who needed to use a safe word in any sexual act, so she struggled to wrap her brain around what that could have possibly meant. But her actions continued to nod as she wrapped her arms around his biceps to try to bring him back to earth. The idea that he had to bring it up intrigued her.

"Second," He pulled at the necktie around his own before he loosened it enough to grab and throw off of his own neck. His hands moved to place it around her own, helping to move the hair from her neck so that it could rest comfortably around her own. "I like to use props. Are you okay with that?"

Felicity felt her heart beating steadily in her chest for a few seconds before she nodded her head. He watched the innocence completely take over her face as he smirked at the all-knowing tale of it.

"Third," He bit on his lip as he moved down to let their foreheads rest along each other, "I need to hear you—no nodding or shaking your head. Consent makes me feel good. And when I feel good," He kissed her once again, a quick one this time, before his voice quieted so that it was just between them. "You'll feel even better. Okay?"

Felicity breathed in a deep breath before she tried to use the voice that had been drifting away from her. She didn't feel in her body like an echo of a voice had started to take over instead of her words. But she let out a rasp of a word, "Okay."

Harry nodded a few times, knowing that with her eyes, he would be able to continue, but only if he was able to talk her through every part of it. He didn't know her experience level or what she was comfortable with, but he knew how to make pleasure the only thing that would be on her mind for weeks. Hopefully, it wouldn't be the last time he got the opportunity.

"This is—uh," She looked at the ceiling, feeling like an idiot for starting to speak before she shook her head, and watched Harry give her a look of confusion. "No, sorry. Nevermind."

"What is it?" He questioned, hoping that something he had said hadn't scared her away. She took in a breath as she thought about how the wording could anger him—maybe it would stop whatever was happening, which she didn't want to happen now that they were in the midst of it all.

"I—uh, I mean, like, are you okay with this?" She asked quietly before pushing up on her elbows. "I—do I have like, sign something?"

Harry raised in brows in a bit of a humorous way that only made her cheeks grow red with shame at her silly question—in all honesty, it wasn't silly, but Harry was giving her a hard time about it, anyway. He bit on his lip as he felt the smile that was threatening to overcome his entire face.

"Am I supposed to be worried that you're going to tell the Daily Mail that I have a huge cock?"

"Harry!" She covered her eyes, floating back onto the comforter, "Nevermind—maybe I'll tell them it's small, though, if you don't stop being mean. I'm just trying to protect you."

"Aw," He tutted, putting his thumb over her bottom lip, but his eyes had grown a bit darker—the way that they had been a bit earlier. It was almost an illicit reaction; the way that he spoke to her, was so filthy with each word spoken that made her melt into the bed. "Dare you to say that to my face when you're choking on it," He pressed his hips into hers then, knowing that she would react to it. Hers moved upwards into him, just as he had intended, "I'm not worried about an NDA in the slightest bit."

In a teasing manner, she scrunched her nose and playfully spat back, "What if I tried to steal all of your money?"

He pressed his hands next to her head on the bed, letting her eyes look directly into his as he spoke, hoping his voice didn't falter: "You can have it all. Take it."

Something about it should have made Felicity giggle—almost like they were joking around. But there was a way that his sincerity felt more like a proposition than a source to cut the tension of their achingly needing bodies against one another.

Her body seemed to enjoy the way that he stated the smooth words, as she let her hands fall into the brunette curls that settled on the back of his neck. It didn't take long for her to pull him closer, letting her lips graze over him in such a frustrating manner. She was completely built up, her could feel the way that her thighs trembled against him.

Pushing her legs open, Harry pushed the hem of her skirt up her hips so that he could find a home between them. In doing so, flashing the baby pink of her lace panties only let his blood flow faster and faster.

"I bet you've soaked those, hm?" He tuts, pressing his nose into her cheek ask he lets his hand knowingly move to the place he speaks of, knowing that he's right. Again. "Sam doesn't know what he's missing, does he?"

The teasing was becoming a bit too much for her—waiting for his fingers to move faster, she moved her hips a bit to try and get herself the pleasure she was trying to search so desperately for from him.

Harry notices the way that she tries to squirm, and he smirks at the reaction he's giving her; knowing that within every inch of her is building up a tension that will release. It will be like a dam that overflows—a satisfaction that will be so worthy of the cost of admission. He can't help but notice, can't help but watch her need.

He can't help but know that he's going to fuck her into an oblivion so dark, the stars will be lost in space. She doesn't know that yet.

Instead of being mean, he decides it might be better for him to give her what she needs—what she's been so kindly asking him for with her pretty hips and her pretty lips.

"On your knees," He tells her, watching as she moves underneath him. She wiggles around until she's on her stomach; the necktie gets him harder as he watches it dangle from her neck like the apple in Eden. Every part of him wants to take the bite—not yet, oh, not yet.

When she does this, her back arches upwards, and Harry's knees settle on the bed as he hovers above her and watches the way that she submits to him. Every word he says she listens—he can barely handle it anymore.

In an instant, his hands reached the bottom of her skirt, pushing it up to fully show the outline of her ass in the cheeky pink lace. It's always been known to him that she would wear something so pitifully scandalous under those black skirts, but he couldn't have imagined it would be like this.

Her pretty face has been folded into the creamy duvet, waiting for the touch of him to send her into an implosion.

All he wanted was to taste her—to make all of the thoughts he had prior feel like they were significant and they were able to be adhered to. He wanted to make her feel like she was the most special person on the planet; like she could feel every inch of him, and she would be thriving in that thought for the end of time.

This may be a one-time occurrence, and he wanted to marvel in it. He wanted her to enjoy what she didn't know could be.

Harry's hands pulled at the pink lace, wondering how lucky he was to be able to enjoy this sight—and what a sight. The wetness of her folds only made him salivate; made his hungry eye a darker shade of green before he dove his tongue directly into her, licking up the mess he had already made of her.

The soft whimpers turned into moans as she practically lurched forward—the initiation hardly bearable as she scrunched her eyes at the feeling of pleasure. The warmth and invite of his tongue pressed against her, lapping her up and into a pitiful puddle. When she felt the nudge of his finger, she gasped at the feeling of him; the duo of his tongue and finger sang together in harmony like a choir of angels.

"Oh, fuck," She quietly moaned out, holding herself on her elbows as she grabbed at her pillow for a bit of leverage. She felt him hum into her, his nose gently brushing against her as he pushed her ass up to get further towards her clit which hungered for his touch, as did his tongue.

The taste of her replenished him, making his heartbeat faster as he felt the stringent feeling of tightness along the dress pants that held him in. Without letting his tongue go without, he used his hand to swiftly throw the belt from the loops of his pants, unbuttoning them quickly and without another thought.

"Fuck, you taste like I thought you would. So fucking sweet." He stated, pushing her ass out of the way when he pulled back. He threw her down onto the bed so that she would be looking up at him. The girl was fully dressed still, just with her skirt pushed up—underwear a bit haphazardly thrown to the side. The rose-colored cheeks threw him as he used his hands to pull the skirt down her thighs.

"Get naked." He ordered, watching as Felicity's hands moved to throw the t-shirt from her body as he requested, leaving her in her panties and bra. Harry threw the white button-down of his from his chest; Felicity got a bit distracted by the way that the tattoos generously scattered over his body. She swallowed back her intimidation as she held herself up on her elbows.

In a swift motion, her panties and bra were thrown onto the ground, leaving her in just the necktie like Harry had ordered for her. She hadn't even quite noticed that he had been rid of his own clothes, her eyes wandering down but not wanting to stare as she noticed that the smirk on his face was ever present.

"Think it's still small?" He asked, with a chuckle as he pulled at her knees, moving her down towards him.

"Maybe smaller than I'm used to." She played back, biting her lip at the intrigue of how he'd react. His arms grabbed at her waist before he threw himself down onto the bed.

"Ride me, then. If you think you can take it as good as you say." His words spit out before Felicity could think too much. It had been a while she had been in this situation, with a guy in her place, at least. Her hand reached over to the nightstand to grab a condom, Harry nodding in appreciation for the gesture.

Her hunger and desire for this became a bit more active as she was now in the driver's seat, moving and manipulating her body to sit across his lap. If she would lie, she would say that it was smaller than average. But unfortunately, she was taught to always tell the truth.

It was much bigger—especially as he rubbed his hand down himself, a gasp of air baiting out of his lips before he looked up at her in a state that could only resemble pleasure.

Harry rolled the condom down his length, watching as she settled into his lap. Her legs settle on either side of him before he looks up at her. The blazing fuzziness of his mind from the liquor has started to cease and is replaced with a hunger of desire for the brunette instead.

"Pretty, pretty." He tells her, watching as she looks antsy enough to move, but he pulls her down to kiss her, anyways. It's a moment that he knows he's taking away from her, but he needs some form of interaction from her. A small detail of need that overcomes him.

His hands steady her hips above him, holding his cock up to her entrance before he watches her hips move down to encapsulate him all—her movements are slow as she throws her head back in an unsurmountable pleasure that she quite practically leans forward against him to catch herself from falling.

"Fuck," He grunts, shutting his eyes just at the way that the blood moves directly to his cock at the feeling of her wetness. She's completely drenched and open and ready which makes her so sensitive and barely capable of words at this point.

Her hands steady herself, holding onto his chest as he allows her to take the lead on what she needs. But he can tell from the look on her face that she's having quite a hard time collecting herself—almost like she's quite unsure of what to do with the power that he's given her to be on top. It's not him pitying her, but him wanting her to enjoy the experience.

So, maybe, in another life, this can happen again.

"Baby," He choked out, shaking his head at the way that he knew it was the wrong choice of words, "Felicity—let me," He grabbed the small of her waist as he sat up quickly. His arms pivoted them so that he could throw them back around on the bed. It wasn't to take anything away from her, but to give to her more than she was giving to herself.

"Let me do this, yeah?" He joked with her, letting his lips kiss along hers, biting and nipping and finding small ways of showing her that the softness of him was still there even in the darkened eyes and furious gasps.

His body readjusted, his hips pushing into her in a more fluid motion. This got her to gasp, a breathy one that he liked hearing—those were the ones that were out of pure pleasure and satisfaction; ones that he felt drunk on.

In a way, this felt a lot different than before. The overhead light of her bedroom was soft; there was a significant dimness to it. He wasn't sure if it was because the room was small, but it felt like there was a intimacy that he had been missing before. His eyes tilted upwards to the paintings and lines of movie quotes that lined along her bedroom wall. There were framed simply and held color and brightness to the space, which distracted him for only a moment before he was able to lay against her.

The necktie around her took his focus back.

"I'm going to play with you a bit, is that alright?" He asked her softly, biting at his lip before he found himself pressing into her hips. His hands grabbed at the necktie before letting them start to tighten it around her neck. " 'Member you words, hm?"

Felicity whimpered out at the coax; nodding her head, "Please—please."

Harry sat up at the request, happy that she was using her words in this sense. He readied himself; thinking of what he needed to think about to try to get himself to a different place. He didn't want to cum too quickly; his cock was barely holding on as it was. The friction of her sweet wetness was enough to make him fold again and again and again.

His fist moved to grip at the knot of the tie, pushing it upwards until it hit at her chin. She raised her head, almost to give way to the pressure that it held against her. She was only briefly capable of speaking a few words, but she was taken with pleasure at the way that her breathing was manipulated.

"Breath play," Harry practically reads her mind as his hip's diver deeper into her. The feeling of her legs at his ribs, practically around his body as he feels the back of her ankle into his back. "Your words, baby."

Felicity took a deep breath; Harry moved his hand so that she could take it in more. He wanted her to feel the wooziness, the daydream-like feeling of the high that it could bring her. He wanted this moment to be special, for her to remember that she was in the most requitting love affair. That she was taken care of, adored, seen.

At the end of the day, Harry wanted to make sure that her jaw was cradled, her lips were kissed, her eyes were stared into, and her breath was taken away.

His hips snapped further, her moan sounded like a small mew before he sat up a bit straighter, loosening his hand on the tie before he grabbed at both of her hips. His hand moved to maneuver over her clit, thumb drawing a star over top of it to which she squirmed in sensitivity. He smirked at the way that she held softly against him before he let a dribble of spit land directly on her, smearing the wetness to coat her.

"Jesus fucking Christ." He stated, the blown-out pupils of them both had them reeling—he noticed he had really neglected parts of her that he had wanted to remember, but he also knew that there was a significant need that they were both needing to fill. He knew that this was just inevitable fucking from weeks—months, really—of built-up tension that they both needed to get out of their system.

"I—I want more," She nodded, her voice quiet and barely above a mumble before their eyes made contact.

He felt that she was a bit, for lack of a better word, fucked. Her eyes were a bit droopy, she may have been trying to cover up how much she really drank, but her effervescent neediness was going to haunt him forever.

"I can give you more," He nodded, "I can give you so much fucking more." His hips snapped forward, again and again and again—her headboard hitting the wall every time he did so. Their breath heavy and their eyes connected as he did so.

"Such a pretty little fuck," He lifted her leg up from around his waist before he gave her knee a gentle kiss. "I'm so hard, fuck."

The fully natured nudity of their bodies was new for him—it was usually very quick, especially when they would come to his. But this was significantly more intimate; he wanted to spend this time with her. He liked that they decided to do it this way.

She could feel the tightening of the rubber band that was about to snap. It had been building with every swipe of his thumb, the way that his tongue had gently nudged at her clit; the way he had plunged forward with every deep thrust. She was impressed with the way that he moved her body to be able to hit at her spot every single time. He had studied her, watched what she did—how she reacted.

"I'm—fuck," He pulled himself forward, letting his head drop as he fell into her touch. This was new; her hands on his shoulders, the way that they moved into his hair and down his neck. "Poetry, okay?" He reminded her softly before he kissed her lips.

What happened after that could have been a blur—to Felicity, she wasn't entirely sure if she could remember it all. His hand gripped around the tie of her neck, pulling softly so she felt a dizzy sensation.

"Fuck—fuck, Harry, I'm cumming—fuck." Her teeth bit so sharply on her lip that she was afraid it might rupture the skin; the taste of blood would come soon afterwards, but her reality was set in the pleasure kingdom that Harry's hips created for her.

It was dizzying how he snapped his hips upwards, hitting her every single time. The pressure of his thumb over her clit sent her into an overdrive; letting her walls completely break, the dam overflowed, flooding. The orgasm over taking her sent him into a state of pure shock and adrenaline, snapping his hips a few more times before he felt the absolute relief.

Her eyes shut; Harry lurched forward as he fell into the grip of her hands. It was a feeling of falling that he genuinely believed were cloud-like.

For a moment, he wondered if they would ever slow their breathing down. He wondered if the sound of her heart beating against his was real-life or just a fantasy. It may have been an orgasmic-induced dream.

The puzzle piece form of the two of them let him settle nicely into her; his nose poked at the skin of her neck, which he may or may not have left a mark or two on.

In the solemness of the air, his breathing finally evened out.

___________

"Are we cleared for take-off, Mr. Styles?"

The noise jolts him a bit, he wouldn't lie.

Harry clears his throat as he opens his eyes which have been hidden by the sunglasses that have settled on his face. He readjusts in the seat before he looks around the small jet plane that had been chartered for their adventure.

It was early, approaching on seven in the morning. His sleep had been nonexistent until that small nap that he had gotten himself before being woken up by the pilot.

"Uh," He swallows, trying to make it seem that he was more awake than he was.

"I believe that we're all here." Laura states to the pilot before she gives him a tight smile. She returns to looking at her cellphone, lowering her hands into her lap as she continues to scroll through what's possibly an email.

Harry looks around the small jet, watching, searching... wondering.

He blinks a few times to try to imagine if there's a reality where what had occurred last night was working against him—he had hoped that she hadn't been scared off, that she hadn't run away at the idea of what this weekend could possibly hold.

Not that it was going to happen all the time, certainly not. But he wondered if there could be a next time—he wondered if she would have liked that. It turns out, with the no show to the work trip that she had been informed on that—

"I'm sorry."

The sweet tone of the voice carries through the plane before he turns his body in the single chair to look at where it had been coming from. Coming up the steps, being greeted by the stewardess, a smiling face that had her sunglasses pushed into her hair—a pair of black yoga pants and a t-shirt with a cardigan sweater overtop.

He watches as she takes her bag, feeling uncomfortable by the stewardess taking it from her before she gives her a tight smile and settles into walking towards the back. The plane isn't large, but it feels incredible big when he is waiting for her to approach him.

Their eyes meet and she gives him a tight smile before greeting the others on the plane. The seat directly in front of Harry isn't taken. Go figure. Her hands are full—holding her purse, a bag that most likely has something to eat for a breakfast, a coffee, and—

"Your dry-cleaning," Felicity handed the back to him before she took her seat that sat directly across from him in the small private jet that had seemingly felt much smaller as she took in how close he was to her now, "Mr. Styles."

The flicker of her eyes to his—the way that her hair had been blown dry, bouncing with curls, the freshness of her toned-down makeup to allow the texture of her skin to show with the subtlety of the glow.

Even in the early morning hours, even though he had just left her a few hours prior, even though they had both had less than a few good hours of sleep—she still looked like she was greeting him at heaven's pearly gates.

When the bag was unzipped to check that everything had been added, his eyes fell along the purple necktie that he had unnervingly left at the edge of her bed the night prior; he must had run out of the door of her apartment without it. His eyes glanced at the way that the small item drifted over the white button-down.

It was familiar, of course, because it had been the one that he was wearing yesterday when he had entered her apartment but left without it in his hands or around his neck. He cleared his throat at the sight, knowing that it was a nod to him and only him. When he sat them down across his lap, his eyes landed on her again—the casualty of her smirk was harrowing now.

"Mr. Styles, are we waiting on anyone else?" The pilot had come back towards the rows now, to ensure that everything would have been cleared for the take-off. Harry looked back at him, and shook his head without another doubt, but a solidly aching feeling in his chest as he barred the words back at him.

"No, I—I'm not waiting for anyone else, at least." He looked up at the girl in front of him, "I'm good."

The pilot got the plane ready for departure; Felicity stared at the window as she tried to take in the experience, knowing that the exhaustion that was starting to overcome her would be able to be given a final rest when she leaned against the window.

But, for the time being, she liked being able to rest in the light of Harry's stare as he couldn't take his eyes from her.

The plane, the job, the clothes, the dinner—none of it mattered when the view in front of him was something that money would never be able to buy.

____________________

hiiiii!!

happy tortured poets department day, here's a one-shot <3

just a little fun one hehe, almost 20k words is so much for me, so thank you for reading this!

love u as always

- emily

[heartateasee]

PROMPT: (requested by @victoria-styles) “Y/N distracts Harry while he’s in the middle of writing a song.” - I’ve taken inspiration from this prompt, and I’ve tweaked it a bit! Instead, it’ll be Harry distracting Y/N during a work meeting over Zoom 🤭

- - - - - - - - - -

Warnings: Not much really - slight talks of smut, and slight masturbation (m). Very brief dom play.

Word Count: 1.1k

“So for this meeting, we’ll be going over the goals for the next month, as well as the new structure that’s going to be put in place for us to achieve those goals,” you heard your boss’ voice flowing through the speakers of your laptop as you sat at your kitchen table.

With a cup of coffee next to it, as well as a notebook with a pen, you were all set for your monthly meeting with the bigwigs of your at home job.

You were slightly rushed this morning as you and Harry were up late. You had insisted on going to bed early considering you knew you had this meeting this morning, but only a few minutes after the two of you had laid down in bed, his toned body ended up slotted between your thighs - his thick cock plunging in and out of you.

In order to give you more rest, Harry had set your alarm back thirty minutes after you had fallen asleep. He knew that you typically gave yourself too much time in the morning. He wanted you to have your rest after the two of you had your way with each other.

To say you were pretty pissed off about him changing your alarm would be an understatement. You had woken up to him cuddled against your back, and you could feel his morning wood nudging against one of the rounds of your ass. It caused you to giggle, and just before you were about to slip your hand into his briefs to help him out, thinking you had the time to do so, you caught sight of the clock on the nightstand.

From there your morning felt completely chaotic. Between you rushing to put on a decent appearance, to Harry following you around like a lost puppy with a hard on, you were surprised you actually sat down at the table on time.

Thankfully you didn’t have to dress up, just pulling on a nice sweater over the t-shirt of Harry’s you had on sufficed as they could only see you from the shoulders up really.

As the meeting really started up, you began to take notes - looking down at your notebook fully as you listened and scribbled. When you looked back up, you caught sight of Harry walking through to the kitchen behind your laptop.

You could tell he was shirtless, something that wasn’t uncommon for him, and you figured he had just gotten out of the shower with the way the water was dripping from the ends of his curls.

It wasn’t until he made it past your laptop, and into the actual kitchen that you saw his bare, plump, little ass that you loved so much out of the corner of your eye.

You had gone to take a sip of coffee, and the sight of his bum caused you to sputter the liquid back into your mug.

“Y/N, everything okay?” Your boss spoke up as you choked, and you nodded before holding a finger up to mute yourself.

Continuing to cough, you knocked your fist against your chest as you looked back over to Harry, and you could see the smirk on his face as he stood at the counter - his sight set on the fruit he was chopping up on a cutting board.

He was going to stand there and make his morning smoothie.

Naked.

Your eyes couldn’t help but trail over his muscular frame as you continued to catch your breath, but they really honed in on the sight of his prick hanging between his thighs.

He had gotten himself off in the shower, and he wanted you to know.

Not only did he want to distract you from your meeting as punishment for leaving him high and dry, but he also wanted to rub it in your face that he didn’t need you to get himself off. He knew you knew what his cock looked like just a few minutes after coming.

The scoff that left you did manage to get his attention, and you made eye contact just briefly before you were turning your attention back to the screen - clicking yourself off of mute.

As the meeting continued, you completely ignored Harry, and you continued to take your notes as normal.

That however came to a halt when Harry revved up the blender, and you had to quickly throw your hand against your mouse to mute yourself once again.

“Harry!” You exclaimed over the noise of the appliance as you lowered your laptop screen - just a bit so your colleagues could no longer see your face. “You’re joking right?”

Harry squinted, and his eyebrows narrowed as he cupped one of his hands over his ear. “Sorry! What? I can’t hear you right now!”

Rolling your eyes, you huffed in annoyance, but you decided to go back to ignoring him - retrieving your headphones from your laptop bag that was in the chair next to you. You plugged them into your computer, and then shoved the earbuds into your ears as you continued to listen, but you kept yourself on mute.

Thankfully once Harry’s smoothie was finished, he stood in the kitchen - consuming it in silence.

You peeked over to him again after a few minutes to witness him cleaning up the kitchen, but then he turned around and caught your eyes on him.

Tongue pressed against the inside of his lower lip, you watched as one of his large, veiny hands traveled down his abdomen before wrapping around his shaft. His lips parted, and you couldn’t hear him due to your headphones, but you didn’t need to. You had that little gasp that he makes at the first bit of contact memorized.

“Alright everyone, that wraps up the meeting for today, are there any questions?” You heard someone in the meeting ask, but you didn’t even look back over.

You were completely fixated on the god-sculpted man, that you had the privilege of calling your boyfriend, in your kitchen as he worked his hand over his length to harden right in front of you.

“No? Well that’s that! If you think of anything, please just send one of us an email. Thank you all for your time, and we’ll see you again next month.”

The laptop was quickly shut, and the headphones were ripped from your ears as you pushed yourself up from the table before you quickly walked over to Harry.

Your hand wrapped around his wrist, causing his own hand to leave his growing cock.

“You’ve been extremely naughty this morning,” your voice was stern as you spoke to him, and you watched as his pupils dilated. “I expect you in the bedroom on your knees while I finish up my coffee, pup.”

Harry nodded slowly, and you released his hand so it dropped by his side before you continued to speak.

“That’ll give me time to figure out which punishment suits you best.”

[allthelovehes]

Hardware Store Hookup*

Summary: Y/N just broke up with her boyfriend and kicked him out, she is redecorating her apartment and the guy who works at the hardware store just has something special to him.

Pairing: Harry x reader

Word count: 4.7K

Warnings: Smut!! Protected sex tho, oral female receiving, p in v.

Taglist: @justmystyles @bitchybabyharry @harrysslut7 @swiftmendeshoran @lucasandharold @harrysbabycherry @htaylor18 @rose-garden-dreamz @myalovesharry @mellamolayla @hsonlyangelxo @yousunshineyoutempter @heartateasee @blueheisenbergtragedy @bikestyles @bohemianrhapsody86 @cherrylovers-world @harrys-littlefreak Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! 🤗

Support my work by joining my Patreon!

A/N:  Ugh, these two are so cute and loving. Makes me wanna paint my house and find Harry at my hardware store.

Setting down the last box of his belongings in the entryway of her apartment building. Y/N feels bittersweet. This building has been their home for the last two years, but the second she found out he cheated on her she was packing up all his shit and moving him out.

“I don't understand why you won't just listen to me! We can work this out!”

“I'm done talking to you, Michael.” She responds, her voice void of emotion. “The apartment is in my name, and I'm paying the bills, you're out.”

Michael huffs and walks around her as if he's going to leave, but turns around and comes right back. She can feel his eyes boring into her and her skin crawls. He's trying to play the victim and she can't stand it.

“Fine, you know what? Just... just fuck it, Y/N. I don't even want to live with you, you're an ugly bitch anyways. I can find someone prettier and younger to take care of me than some fat cow.”

“You're an asshole, Michael. I never want to see your face again.” She replies, opening the door and pointing outside.

“Fuck you!” He spits, picks up his boxes and leaves.

She watches as he gets into his truck and pulls out of the parking spot before she goes inside and closes the door. As soon as she locks it she collapses on the floor and bursts into tears. A year ago Michael was her knight in shining armour, her soulmate, the love of her life. Now she wants to erase his entire existence from her memory.

***

A couple of months pass and Y/N feels like it's finally time to transform their home into her own. The couch was a gift from her parents when they moved in together and it's not even comfortable. It's also stained and ratty and she's ready to get rid of it. She's browsing Pinterest when a couch catches her eye, it's white and has a tufted back. It looks beautiful, so she clicks on the website and begins filling her cart with things for her new interior.

Shipping the pieces takes quite some time as they get delivered by truck and they schedule an appointment with you to make sure you're home. Still, three more weeks until her furniture is supposed to be delivered, so she decides to make most of the time in between and visits the hardware store for some paint.

The hardware store is surprisingly quiet and she has the aisle to herself. There are dozens of different brands of paint and it's overwhelming, let's not even get started about all the different colour options. She has an idea in mind, something warm, inviting and calming. Something that feels like home.

“Can I help you?” A voice says behind her and she startles, almost dropping the cans of paint she picked out.

“Ah, yes! Please!” She chuckles, turning around and looking at the man behind her.

He's tall, very tall, and wearing a navy blue polo. He has a nametag, 'Harry' written across it. He's got curly, dark brown hair, and his face is handsome and symmetrical. The thing that stands out to her the most are his eyes, they're a soft green, almost grey and they remind her of the sea. His lips look soft and pouty and she can't stop staring.

“You seem lost.” Harry smirks.

“Yeah, a bit, actually.” She chuckles. “I need paint for my apartment and I don't really know how much I'm gonna need or where to start. I just wanna do my bedroom and the living room.”

“Well, first, let's start by picking out a colour. Do you have an idea of what you want?”

“Oh, um, yeah!” She smiles, grabbing her phone and showing him her Pinterest board. “Something like this.”

“Ah, I see. A warm colour, that's good. And what are you painting over?”

“Well, right now it's a cream colour.” She explains, following him through the aisles as he looks at paint cards.

“Okay, so we'll probably want to stick with a neutral colour for the living room, because the natural light changes a lot. Here.” He hands her a warm yellow coloured paint card, “This one would look great, it's warm and it will compliment the furniture.”

“I love it.”

“And your bedroom, we'll do something more daring, because that's more of a personal space.” Harry smirks at her. “I think something darker to add some mystery, but with a pop of colour would look great, like maybe a navy wall with a bright coloured accent piece.”

“I have a yellow throw I'm planning on using. That's good contrasting colour, right?”

“Yes! Exactly! You can use the yellow throw to really add some warmth, especially during winter, and the blue to contrast that and create some depth.”

“That sounds great.” She smiles, her excitement growing. Harry is charming and his excitement for her project is contagious. “I can't wait.”

“Let's head over to the paint mixer, yeah?”

They walk towards the back of the store, where the mixing area is located. During their walk Harry asks her what her more about the wall sizes so he knows how much she'll need. She tells him everything he needs to know and Harry gets to work. The heavy paint buckets cause his muscles to flex and his biceps bulge. He's definitely a looker and she can't help but blush and tries to turn her attention elsewhere.

“There we go.” He smiles. “Let's go get some painting supplies and we'll ring you up, yeah?”

“Perfect.”

“How are you planning on doing this?”

“Hm?”

“The painting.” He chuckles. “Are you planning on doing it yourself or are you hiring a painter?”

“Oh, I'll do it myself, it's only the two rooms, right? I can handle that.”

“You can, absolutely.” Harry grins. “You're brave. Most women hire painters to do that sort of thing, or their boyfriends.”

“Oh, well, I don't have a boyfriend. I guess I'm just doing this all myself.”

“That's admirable. I wish more women were like you, not afraid of getting their hands dirty. You're going to be fine.”

“I hope so.”

“Trust me, you'll do great. And if you need any advice you know where to find me. I'll be glad to help.”

“Thank you, Harry.” She says. Harry loves that she calls him by his name that she clearly read off his name tag. “I appreciate it.”

“It's my pleasure, darling. Let's get you checked out.” Harry gives her a small wink and they head to the counter. He helps her lift all the heavy items onto the conveyor belt so his colleague can scan them. He normally wouldn't give this much attention to a customer, but he's drawn to her, she's different.

Y/N notices him staring as they load her purchases onto the conveyor belt and it makes her blush. She can't help but look at him and the way his lips move as he talks. They look soft and she can't help but imagine what kissing him would be like.

“Will that be all, miss?” His colleague asks, snapping her out of her daydream.

“Um, yes. Yes, thank you.” She smiles, handing her her debit card.

“I'll bring these to your car.” Harry says, lifting two buckets of paint and carrying them outside.

“Oh, thank you!” She smiles, grabbing the other bucket and following him. She knows he's giving her some kind of special treatment as he shouldn't be doing this, but she isn't complaining. She's not complaining at all.

He sets down the buckets next to her car, and she unlocks the trunk so he can place them inside. He turns around and looks at her. He wants to say something, anything, to her, but he doesn't know what.

“Do you have a card or something? So I can contact you if I have any questions?” She speaks up, feeling brave.

“Oh, yeah, of course.” Harry grins, reaching behind him and pulling out a small note block. He scribbles down his name, phone number and writes hardware store employee underneath as if it's an official business card. He rips off the piece of paper and hands it over with a goofy grin on his face. “Here you go.”

“Thank you, Harry.” She chuckles. “I'm Y/N, by the way.”

“It's lovely to meet you, Y/N.”

“Likewise.” She grins. “Well, I have to get going. I still have to buy a few more things.”

“Of course.” He nods. “Good luck.”

“Thank you.” She smiles, getting into her car and driving off.

As soon as she's out of sight, Harry lets out a sigh and heads back into the hardware store.

“Hey, mate.” His colleague says. “What was that all about?”

“What was what about?”

“Don't act stupid. I've never seen you give special attention to a customer.”

“Shut up.” Harry chuckles, walking towards the back room. “It was nothing, I was just being nice.”

“Uhuh.”

Harry sighs, rolling his eyes as he starts to put away some equipment. He has no idea why he's so intrigued by her, she was just a normal customer, right? He thinks back to the way she blushed when he spoke, and the way she fiddled with her hands. Maybe he's just imagining things, but he's definitely got a soft spot for her. ***

She's spent the last few days painting the walls of her bedroom, as a darker colour needs multiple layers and drying times. It's finally time to paint the living room and she's excited. She's picked out the perfect colour and the weather is cooperating so she can leave the windows open.

She's put on her favourite music and has a cup of tea next to her as she paints. Her hair is up in a messy bun and she's wearing sweatpants and a sports bra. She's enjoying herself, and the room looks great so far. The colour is a bit darker than what she expected but she doesn't hate it. It's warm, and inviting and she's happy.

After a few hours her back and arms start hurting, so she decides to take a break. She grabs her phone and takes a picture of the wall and posts it in the family group chat.

She scrolls through her Instagram feed when she suddenly remembers the card that Harry gave her. She pulls it out of her pocket and enters his number in her contacts. She debates on whether or not she should send him a message, but decides to do it anyway.

Y/N Hey Harry, it's Y/N, the girl from the hardware store. I've finished my bedroom and I'm doing the living room now. The colour looks amazing, thanks again for helping me pick it out.

She sends the text and immediately puts her phone down. She can't believe she just did that. Did she sound desperate? Did she sound too eager? Is he going to reply? She's got no clue, and it's killing her.

“Get a grip, Y/N.” She whispers to herself. She shakes her head and grabs her cup of tea, taking a sip. She looks back at her wall and sighs, she's got a long day ahead of her.

The sun is slowly starting to set, and Y/N has just finished the wall. Her hair is still up in a bun and she's sweaty, but she's happy with the result. The walls look amazing, the colour is beautiful and she can't wait to show her parents tomorrow.

Her phone vibrates, and she grabs it to check the notification. It's a text from Harry.

Harry I'm so glad to hear that, love! I bet the colour looks lovely with the sun setting right now.

She can't believe he called her 'love' in a text, it's insane. He barely even knows her. But his message is sweet and cute and she's smiling like an idiot.

Y/N You'll have to come and check it out for yourself.

She stares at her phone screen for what feels like an eternity. She can't believe she just flirted with him. She's not even sure if he's single, and if he is, does he like her? He could be interested in someone else, or he could even be straight for all she knows.

Harry Are you inviting me over?

Y/N I'm not stopping you.

Her heart is pounding and her hands are shaking. She's definitely overstepping, but she's hoping it won't scare him off.

Harry I leave work in about 10 minutes. What's your address?

“Shit.”

Y/N Oh, it's 27B, Parkview Apartments.

Harry Be there in 20.

“Fuck!”

She can't believe he's actually coming over. She runs over to her bathroom and quickly brushes her hair and her teeth. Her apartment is a mess, and she's not wearing any makeup. She looks terrible and he's going to be here any second.

“Calm down.” She whispers to herself.

She walks out of the bathroom and starts cleaning up the living room. There are paint supplies everywhere, and she wants the place to look at least a little presentable.

A few minutes later she hears the doorbell and her heart almost leaps out of her chest.

“Coming!” She yells, rushing over to the front door and opening it.

“Hey.” Harry grins.

“Hi.” She smiles. “Please, come in.”

Harry steps inside and closes the door behind him. She looks stunning, despite the fact that she's wearing sweatpants and a messy bun, which makes him feel a little overdressed.

“Your apartment looks nice.”

“Thank you.” She replies, closing the window. “It's a bit of a mess right now, but I'm working on it.”

“Don't worry about it, I understand.”

“Um, would you like something to drink? Some water or beer or something?”

“A beer would be great, thanks.”

“Alright.” She nods, walking over to the fridge and pulling out two cold beers.

Harry sits down on the couch and watches her. She's got a few paint stains on her pants and her sports bra and he finds it endearing. He can tell that she's trying hard, and he's definitely charmed by her.

“Here you go.” She smiles, handing him a beer.

“Cheers.” He says, clinking his bottle against hers.

“To your apartment looking better than ever.”

“Cheers.” She smiles. “And to the man who helped make that possible.”

They both take a sip and stare at each other for a few seconds. Y/N has a feeling that something might happen, but she's not sure if it's the right thing.

“So.” Harry starts, clearing his throat. “What are you going to do now that the painting is done?”

“Oh, well, I'm still planning on doing a few other things.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. I've ordered a new couch, and I'm thinking of getting a new rug.” She answers before Harry moves closer to her.

“So, you don't mind getting this couch a little dirty?” He asks her. Harry is blunt, but he feels the way she's looking at her. It's almost as if she's undressing him with her eyes, he can see the desire sparkling in them.

“Dirty how?”

“You know what I mean, love.” Harry smirks, taking another swig from his beer. Y/N doesn't know what has gotten into her. Normally she's not like this, not at all, but she wants him, badly. She's been craving him since the moment she saw him, and she's tired of denying herself.

“Yes.” She whispers. Harry doesn't reply, instead, he leans in and captures her lips with his own. The kiss is intense, full of lust and hunger. Y/N has been waiting for this and she's not going to waste the opportunity. The last couple of months with Michael have been stale, she's been missing this exciting feeling deep within her.

Harry pulls her closer and kisses her harder, his hands wandering over her body. Y/N moans into the kiss and straddles him. He grabs her hips and pushes her down on him, creating delicious friction between them. Y/N can feel him growing harder and his bulge pressing against her core. She wants him, and she wants him now. Harry breaks the kiss, and Y/N whimpers at the loss.

“You're a very good kisser.” He murmurs. “Are you always this good, or am I just lucky?”

“I don't know, maybe you're just lucky.” She teases, grinding down on his cock.

“Mmm.” Harry hums, leaning forward and kissing her again. This time, the kiss is even more passionate. Y/N wraps her arms around his neck and deepens the kiss, running her fingers through his hair. She pulls on it and Harry groans, his hands moving to her ass and squeezing it.

“Fuck, you feel good.” He mutters against her lips, squeezing her ass again.

“You too.” She mumbles, leaning down and kissing his neck. Harry groans as she starts sucking on his skin, leaving a trail of love bites. He knows that they'll be visible tomorrow and that his colleagues will have a field day. But he doesn't care, he loves it. He loves the fact that he's been claimed by her.

He spins her full body around in his lap, so her back is flush against his chest and his face is buried in the crook of her neck. His hands move up her stomach and under her sports bra. He cups her breasts and pinches her nipples between his fingers, making her whimper.

“You're so beautiful.” He mumbles, his lips pressed against her neck. She places her hands on his knees and grinds down on his cock, loving the feeling of him underneath her.

“Fuck.” Harry groans, thrusting his hips up, meeting her movements. “You're so fucking hot, you know that?”

“I'm aware of the effect I have on you.”

“Oh yeah?” He smirks, pulling her hair and forcing her to expose her neck.

“Yeah.” She reaches behind her to unclasp her sports bra and lets it fall to the floor.

“Fuck, look at you.” Harry grunts, grabbing her breast and squeezing it. Y/N throws her head back and moans. “Look at these perfect tits.”

He continues to massage her breast, teasing her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. Y/N arches her back, pushing her breast further into his hand.

“That feels so good.” She whines.

“Mhm.” He hums, licking a stripe up her neck. He loves the way her skin tastes, sweet and salty. He can't get enough. He sucks on her earlobe, one of his hands sliding down her body and slipping into her pants. He finds her clit, and two of his fingers circle it, making her gasp.

“Oh god.”

“Do you like that?” He asks her, continuing his movements because he already knows the answer.

“Yes.”

“You're so wet, baby.” Harry smirks

“Mmm.” She whimpers, grinding her hips into his fingers.

“I can't wait to be inside you.” He growls, his fingers dipping lower and sliding into her.

“Fuck.” She hisses, her nails digging into his legs.

“That's it, baby, let me hear you.” Harry grunts, pumping his fingers in and out of her. He curls them and hits the perfect spot, making her cry out in pleasure. Her walls are spongey and tight around him, making him impatient. But the thought of feeling her come all over his hand is more than enough for him to keep focussed. He wants her to leak all over his hand, to make a mess for him and only him.

“Oh fuck, please, more.” She whines, her thighs trembling. She's never felt this way before, the way he touches her, the way he makes her feel is intoxicating. She loves how she's still half-clothed, and yet, he's managed to make her feel exposed. She's not ashamed of the noises she's making, but she's definitely enjoying the way he's making her feel.

“More what, baby?” Harry asks, his lips grazing her ear moaning softly to send shivers running down her spine.

“More of you.”

“Oh, I'll give you more, baby. Just be patient.”

“Yes.” She cries out, feeling her orgasm approaching. She knows it's close, and she wants it, badly. Her hips start grinding down on his hand, her movements becoming faster and less controlled. Harry continues to pump his fingers into her, his thumb rubbing her clit, making her body shake.

“Oh, fuck.” She gasps, her walls tightening around him. She comes, squirting all over his hand. Harry moans, his dick twitching as he feels her squirt.

“Holy fuck.” Harry moans, watching the mess she's made. “That's so fucking hot.”

“Harry...”

“Mmm.” He hums, as he picks her up and roughly lies her down on her back. He grabs the waistband of her now completely soaked sweatpants and pull them down her legs, throwing them to the side. He does the same with her panties. He gets rid of his own shirt, revealing his toned body. Y/N is taken aback, he's got some tattoos, which is not something she expected. But it suits him, and it's hot.

“Look at you, such a pretty pussy.” He hums, admiring her dripping wet cunt. She's glistening and his mouth waters at the sight.

“Stop staring.” She chuckles.

“Oh, I'm sorry.” He laughs. “Would you prefer if I did this?”

“Do what- fuck!” Y/N exclaims, as Harry suddenly leans down and sucks her clit between his lips. He places his big hands on the inside of her thighs to keep her legs nice and open for him. He is relentless, his tongue licking a strip up her cunt, making her squirm and cry out. He laps up her juices, enjoying every second of it.

“Fuck, Harry!”

“That's it, baby.” Harry groans, sending vibrations through her body. She's gripping the couch, her knuckles turning white. It's an overwhelming feeling to have him eat her out so eagerly right after she came all over his hand. She doesn't know how much more she can take.

When she first met him, she never would have guessed Harry would have been this skilled. The way his tongue moves along her pussy, his lips sucking and licking her clit and the way his fingers dig into her thighs is making her dizzy. She knows she's going to come soon, and she's not sure if she's ready for that.

“Mmhmm, yes.” She moans, her back arching. She grabs a fistful of his hair and holds on to it, pushing his head further down. He takes it as a sign and doubles his efforts, his tongue moving even faster and deeper.

“Oh fuck, yes, right there!” She cries out, her toes curling as her orgasm hits her. It's intense and makes her see stars. Her whole body trembles as her muscles contract, and her mind goes blank.

“Jesus, you taste so good.” Harry groans, as he carefully licks her clean. He gets up and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Harry catches his breath and he looks down at the sweet girl in front of him. She is completely wrecked, and he's not even done with her yet.

“You okay?”

“Mhm.”

“Good.” He smiles, standing up and removing his pants and boxers. His cock is hard and leaking precum. He's long and thick, and Y/N can't wait to have it inside of her.

“Fuck.” She mumbles at the sight, a bit too loud. She's certain Harry heard her even though she didn't intend for him to hear it.

“What's that, love?” Harry grins, his cock throbbing.

“Nothing.”

“No, I want to hear you say it.” He insists, his eyes locked on hers.

“You're big.”

“Yeah?”

“And hard.”

“For you.”

“Fuck me.”

“Your wish is my command, love.” Harry laughs. He grabs his wallet from his pants and pulls out a condom, ripping the package open and sliding the condom down his shaft.

“Come here.” She tells him. He obeys and walks towards her, getting down on his knees in front of the couch. He leans forward and kisses her passionately, his hands cupping her face. He slowly pulls away, his eyes locking with hers.

“You're beautiful.” He murmurs.

“I bet you say that to all the girls who need help at the hardware store.” She teases.

“Oh, shut up.” He laughs, kissing her again. He positions himself, his tip pressing against her entrance. He can't wait to feel her, to be inside of her. Y/N's breathing heavily, her heart racing. He teases her by slowly pushing his tip up and down her folds before slowly pushing it into her. Just the tiniest bit to make her all needy and whiney.

“Please.”

“Patience, baby.” He whispers, his lips inches from hers. He keeps teasing her, his tip rubbing her clit. Y/N moans and her hips buck, trying to get him to push his dick inside of her. But he makes sure to not give in to her desires just yet. He pushes back into her, a little bit further this time, his tip disappearing inside her. But he doesn't go any further, and Y/N lets out a frustrated grunt.

“What's the matter, love?” He smirks, his hand slowly trailing up her stomach and resting on her breast. As he rubs his cock on her clit, his hand squeezes her breast and he starts sucking on her neck.

“You know exactly what's wrong, you fucking tease.”

“Oh, do I?” He chuckles, his hand squeezing her breast again, this time a little bit rougher.

“Yes.” She moans, arching her back. “Please, Harry, stop teasing me.”

“Alright.” He whispers, his lips brushing against her ear. He slowly thrusts into her, filling her up completely. He stills his hips, letting her adjust to his size. She moans, her hands resting on his hips, urging him to move. He complies and begins to rock his hips, pulling almost all the way out before pushing back in.

“Fuck.” Harry groans, his pace increasing. Y/N's walls tighten around him and her nails dig into his hips, as she tries to pull him even deeper.

“That's it, baby.” He growls, his cock sliding in and out of her easily. “You feel so good, baby. So fucking good.”

“You're so big.” She gasps, her eyes closed and her mouth agape. He groans, his hips slamming into her. His fingers find her clit, and he starts rubbing her. Y/N whimpers, her toes curling as his fingers and his cock bring her closer to the edge.

“Yes, baby.” Harry grunts, his free hand cupping her breast, his fingers tweaking her nipple. It's sending sparks of pleasure throughout her body.

“Oh god, fuck!” Y/N moans, her hips bucking, and her walls tightening around him. “Fuck, I'm gonna come.”

“Oh, baby.” He whispers, his voice dripping with lust.

“Shit.” Y/N gasps, her eyes flying open as her third orgasm washes over her. Her whole body is trembling, her muscles contracting. Harry feels her clench around his cock, and he knows that it won't be long before he comes too.

“Fuck.” He grunts, his thrusts getting sloppier. He curses under his breath as he pulls his cock out of her. He quickly rips the condom off and strokes his cock, coming all over her stomach.

“Fuck.”

They're both catching their breaths, both still riding their high. They look at each other and share a laugh.

“I've made a mess.”

“It's okay, my couch was a mess to begin with. We just made it messier.”

“Fair point.” He chuckles, leaning in and kissing her. “This was...fun.”

“Yeah, it was.” She says, her fingers running through his curls.

“How about we go and get cleaned up in the shower and then we can have a proper drink?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Y/N's never had a one-night stand like this. Normally they are rushed and messy. This was different. It was sensual, erotic, and passionate. And she didn't feel bad about it. It felt natural like she was meant to do this. Like she was supposed to have a fling with the hot guy at the hardware store. She's never believed in fate, but maybe this is what it feels like.

[jqhotchner]

hsnews

3,678 Likes

hsnews @/harrystyles seen walking with mystery woman

View all 467 comments

harryfan1 who is she?

harryfan3 how do we even know this is harry?! ya’ll think any tall person is potentially harry styles

harryfan6 the height difference 🥹

harryfan7 how do you guys not know about yn?

| harryfan2 @harryfan7 im saying?! theyve been dating for like three years. how to people not know this?

harryfan10 she’s literally his girlfriend. harry just doesn’t post her. which is valid considering they’re both private people. she’s not even famous!

| harryfan37 @harryfan10 exactly. like, the little girl he was talking about three shows ago was their daughter. funny how people didn’t know this

| harryfan1 @harryfan37 rue, when was this?!

| harryfan37 @harryfan1 it’s her daughter from a previous marriage. we don’t know much just that the guy wasn’t a good person and isn’t involved in her life. but harry’s stepped up and i believe it’s even a video of her calling him dad. it’s so fucking cute!

harryfan22 crazy how most of his fans are just now finding out harrys a whole ass dad! like, i thought we found this out last year?!?!

| harryfan40 @harryfan22 im—like her account is private and everything! but apparently like three fans follow her and she’s occasionally post old photos of her and her daughter! i think one of them even said it’s a few photos of harry with their daughter. like our pookie is a dad 🥺

hsnews

3,440 Likes

hsnews harry tonight

View all 433 comments

harryfan1 now knowing he’s a dad it makes so much sense how he’s been looking extra dilfy the last few years. wtf 😳

harryfan20 oh the outfit choices have been the best this tour

harryfan66 i need him to need me

harryfan33 what about yn?

harryfinedine was yn in the crowd?

harryedstyles im so invested in this whole ynxdadrry information

hsnews guys, i do not know anything about yn. i just found out myself, i swear! like its fucking crazy

harryfan30

4,670 Likes

harryfan30 this is an old pap photo but she does get papped sometimes. it’s why it’s so shocking that people don’t know about her! like fans even stop her when they see her. yn is so unbelievably pretty. anyway, this is our mom 🥹

View all 400 comments

harryfan2 omfg she’s so gorgeous 😍

user3 shes dating that ugly man?! she could pass for a model and shes dating harry fugly styles?!?!

| harryfan1 @user3 trash people with trash opinions are so fucking lame. i swear!

harryfan55 crazy how this is just now coming out?! i do not buy it one bit. this shit is basic pr

| harryfan30 @harryfan55 you can literally scroll through @harrynews post and eventually find photos from two years ago. it’s not just coming out of nowhere 🙄

| harrynews @harryfan55 ill even tag you in a few posts if that helps. yn and harry aren’t some stunt. she rarely gets papped unless with harry himself and that’s still very rare

[gurugirl]

new friday one shot just dropped on patreon

★★★

“Will you just shut the fuck up?” He stepped toward you and you scowled up at him, standing from your stool.

“What? Are you gonna hit me?”

Karl was suddenly standing in between you and Harry as he pushed Harry back a foot, “You two need to go upstairs and talk this out or something. If you can’t play nice you both need to go.”

Harry didn’t drag his angry gaze from you as he grabbed his bag of weed and stomped away upstairs. You followed behind him silently as you tried to remember where you’d put your purse. You figured you’d just go. There was no point in staying around any longer. You and Harry were clearly not going to be able to be around one another.

“The fuck is wrong with you? Huh?” Harry turned toward you as you walked past him. You ignored him, though. Felt it was unnecessary to engage any longer.

“What? You fucking can’t hear me now?” His voice grew angrier. Louder.

You rolled your eyes as you yanked your purse over your shoulder and then dug around for your keys but before you could find them Harry had his hand wrapped around your upper arm and he was pulling you to the small laundry room at the front of the house and closed the door behind himself, “You’re gonna fucking talk to me now. I don’t like being disrespected by a worm like you. Little bitch thinks her shit don’t stink.”

You tugged your arm out of his hold and backed up to the washing machine sneering at him, “You don’t deserve respect. You’re a fucking clown if you think I’m going to give you any regard. You’ll get what’s coming to you when you can’t graduate this semester.”

Harry’s nostrils flared and he stood over you, a palm on the cold surface of the metal washing machine behind you, “Fuck. You. You little bitch. Cheating, lying, fake cunt…”

You couldn’t help it when you took your palm across his cheek and slapped him so hard he coughed out a groan and then held his hand over the stinging spot on his face. He looked down at you like you were some kind of monster and he couldn’t believe you’d just done it.

You grinned at him, “Did that hurt pretty boy? Huh? I hope it bruises and you have to walk around with a mark on your stupid face knowing that it was me who did it.”

“You put another fucking finger on me and I’ll make you regret it.”

You puffed out a laugh from your nostrils and looked him up and down, “Well then back the fuck off. Why are you still standing over me like you’re gonna fight me? I’m half your size you fucking moron.”

Harry removed his palm from his cheek and caged you in fully, your bottom pressed into the washing machine, making you lean back and away from him as he tutted darkly, “You are half my size. So if I were you I’d be on my best behavior.”

“Why cause you’re gonna hurt me? Gonna show me who’s boss?” You called him on his bluff.

“I fucking should. You’re acting like a child.”

“Well, you’ve got me cornered. I have no choice but to defend myself so I slapped you. And I’ll do it again if I have to.” You pushed at his chest and felt the solid bulk of him under his t-shirt. He didn’t budge so you leaned into it, pushing at him harder with both hands but this time he raised one hand and gripped your jaw in his palm, angling your face toward his while his other hand wrapped around your wrists to stop you from pushing him.

“Last warning. I told you not to touch me.”

“But your hands are all over me,” your words were smushed from your mouth as he kept his fingers pressed into your face.

“All over you?” He laughed, “In your dreams.”

“Oh fuck you…” you spat. His face was so close to yours that you could smell the beer on his breath and see the specks of gold in his pretty green eyes. Stupid pretty green eyes.

“No. Fuck you,” his voice was deep and dripping with something fierce. Something crimson red and hot. Vicious.

“Fuck you, Harry.”

You didn’t know what had shifted but something happened and the tension between you two in that dark laundry room crackled and sparked until everything around you was aflame.

★★★

If you're interested in more like this and want to support my work, consider joining us on Patreon!! xoxo

[lemoncrushh]

The Entertainer II - COMING SOON

Summary: What if it wasn't the end? What if Sky did actually see Harry at the Forum in the early 80s, and he saw her too? What if fate took hold of them both, and they realized their journey was not over? Set in 1981, Harry and Sky's story continues with more music, more romance, and a few more twists and turns.

Author's Note: This was originally going to just be a few chapters, like "bonus tracks", but it ended up being a full fic, even longer than the original. Hard to let these characters go; they're such a part of me now. As always, you must be 18+ to read. This fic will contain lots of sex.

COMING SOON

Updates will be weekly, Mondays at 4:00PM CST.

Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist.

Read The Entertainer

Sneak Peek:

Who was I kidding? It couldn’t be him. He was probably overseas in London or some exotic place I’d never heard of. I’d learned that Wildfire broke up earlier that year, so most likely he was resting somewhere - anywhere but Los Angeles. Still…

One more sneaky look out of the corner of my eye, but someone was blocking my view. With a sigh, I listened to Steve finish the song before the band gave their fake goodbyes, and I waited with the rest of the crowd for their encore.

The audience went wild during Journey’s last two songs, and their enthusiasm returned my focus to the reason I’d come. By the time the lights came on in the arena, I’d just about forgotten about him, or whomever the mystery man had been.

That is, until I turned the corner in the hallway after leaving the restroom.

“Sky?”

The sound of my nickname in a crowd full of strangers was odd enough, but the familiar voice threw me for a loop and back in time five years. Turning slowly, I wondered if my mind was playing tricks on me again, but when his handsome face came into view, my thoughts were confirmed.

It was him. And he was standing right in front of me.

tagging: @daphnesutton, @fkinavocado

[babyyhoneyyy]

⋆.˚✮ 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖌𝖎𝖗𝖑 ✮˚.⋆ - One Shot [h.s]

Storyline: After concluding a public relationship on unfavorable terms, singer Madison Moore decides to sever all ties with her boyfriend. However, a year after their separation, she crosses paths with him again at an awards ceremony, where he makes his entrance accompanied by his new girlfriend – the same one Madison once suspected of cheating on her. Nevertheless, she no longer possesses the same docile and soft personality she used to have and when she realizes her ex is attempting to approach her, she chooses to immerse herself in a casual conversation, coincidentally encountering her primary rival in the music industry, Harry Styles. Word count: +9k Smut: 🔞

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|•

Diamonds sparkle around my neck, while pearls delicately rest on my ears. A charming set of jewelry has been carefully chosen for the evening, creating a perfect combination with the black dress I selected for the red carpet.

The fabric hugs my figure precisely, displaying a dark yet radiant shade that reflects tiny glints under the light. The standout features are its pronounced V-neck and the leg slit, adding a revealing touch to the ensemble. My hair complements the look with a lace-up that falls down my back, leaving my forehead exposed.

I glance once again at the small clock showing the time through the mirror's reflection. It's nine fifteen, and there are just a few minutes left until the rest of the team arrives, and we all head to tonight's location in the van.

I close my eyes for a brief moment, letting them open again as my reflection appears before me. In another moment, the red lips might have seemed excessive, but tonight they were more than appropriate if I aimed to make an impact. A long-awaited display of recognition, only possible with suggestive clothing and a mischievous look.

I knew these tricks well; I had been using them for a few months and had become almost an expert. However, I couldn't really complain; they provided me with confidence and a sense of control, as only I knew how far to go and how much to reveal.

I hear my nickname being called by my manager, beckoning me from the other side of the door, signaling that the moment has arrived.

I let out a final sigh, giving one last glance at my reflection in the mirror, and with a small affirmative gesture, I make my way to the door. I unlock the latch and move down the hallway.

"How do I look?" I ask once I see my entire team getting ready to leave my apartment. Their gazes immediately shift to my face and gradually descend to my outfit, creating a subtle interplay between my face and figure in a silence that was beginning to feel almost unsettling.

Then, Allyson, my best friend and the person who would also accompany me to the gala, more at my request, approached me, dropping her hands onto my shoulders and holding me lightly while allowing a cheeky gaze to traverse my body once again.

"Incredibly hot," she replied with a side smile. If I didn't know her better, I would even say she was flirting with me.

"You look like a freaking superstar," Sandy, my agent, joined by my side, commented with a radiant smile that I didn't hesitate to reciprocate.

"A very sexy one," added Allyson.

"Seems like she got the memo," I responded to Sandy, throwing a glance at my friend while I simply watched their interaction with amusement.

"Time's running out. People are already asking if you'll show up, Maddy". I hear the voice of one of the technicians, prompting my manager, my best friend, and me to hurry and exit immediately.

I feel a slight tug on my arm, causing me to turn my head back. I observe Sandy, who looks at me with her typical observant and serene expression before any event, always trying to convey the same message to me.

"You're going to fuck everyone tonight". A smile escapes me due to her choice of words, as I playfully nod, and she takes my arm, finally allowing us to exit the apartment.

The noise of the city intensified as we navigated its streets. The neon signs became more prominent, and some cars honked their horns. Although I would have enjoyed observing the characteristic brightness of Hollywood, the driver's announcement that we had arrived only made my heart beat faster. The once bustling atmosphere provided by the streets was now fueled by fans waiting outside the venue.

The van's polarized windows prevented them from seeing me from the inside, but somehow, magically, some people had already started chanting my name. A smile spread across my face, feeling more confident as we headed towards the location predetermined by the team. I observed the various faces approaching the van, trying unsuccessfully to see beyond, but still shouting random names until they landed on the right one.

I checked my small bag, pulled out my mirror, and refreshed my lips with the lipstick I had specifically chosen for tonight. I took a deep breath a couple of times, practicing a breathing technique I had been taught since my early days in the industry, trying to focus on all the positive things that had happened up to that point. I was about to participate in one of the highlights of my career, not just as a guest but practically as the potential winner and the main star of the night. I was at the top, and no one could stop me.

My nod was enough for the back door to open, allowing my heel to finally touch the red carpet. The noise intensified, ringing loudly in my ears as the choruses of my name created a buzz around me. Camera flashes accompanied my descent as I tilted my head slightly to mark my steps on the pavement.

I stood in the center of the carpet, striking various poses for the photographers, keeping my face with a serene expression, and, on some occasions, with a smile. I began to move away as the pleading shouts for me to stay faded away. Allyson gently took my arm, occasionally smiling at the paparazzi still trying to get our attention as we entered the venue, followed by my team.

As we made our way through the backstage hallways, I could hear the voices of the presenters. I watched different technicians move around us, greeting me as they recognized me. Some even asked me to take a photo, a request to which I gladly agreed.

My heels lost prominence as we approached, overshadowed by the buzz of the show taking place in the main hall.

"Maddy," I hear Sandy's voice behind me, taking a moment to address me while she seems to be immersed in a phone conversation. "You should start getting ready," she informs me.

"Of course" I reply, making her nod before she returns to her phone call. I glance at my best friend, who has let go of my arm and looks at me with a pout. We both knew that her seat was reserved at the assigned table inside the hall, and I had to head to the dressing rooms to change.

"At least you'll wait for me next to Shawn Mendes" I mention, giving her a playful nudge as she regains a smile.

"You're absolutely right," she replies. A smile lights up her face, and before I can leave, she takes my hand, drawing my attention again. Ally is not known for being an especially emotional person; in fact, I used to surpass her in that aspect. However, lately, her emotions have started to emerge, which is saying a lot considering I've known her for more than half of my life. The expression she wears right now is more than enough to make my heart swell. A tenderness that adds sweetness to our friendship and makes me feel grateful for it every day.

"You're going to do wonderfully, although you already know it," she says, gently squeezing my hand. I feel the excitement rise through my body, finally manifesting in the growing moisture in my eyes. I blink a bit as I look up, preventing the tears from actually coming out. "I love you, Maddy. Good luck".

Oh, dear, I hate getting so emotional to the point of crying in these situations.

Unable to contain myself, I move closer to her, releasing our hand grip and enveloping her in an affectionate hug. Finally, I pull away and nod.

"I love you too, thank you". I reply, finally letting her go to continue her way into the hall, where the noise returns once the door leading directly to the entrance opens.

Again, the sound of my heels echoed on the floor, this time as I headed towards the path that led to the dressing rooms. As I advanced, some technicians greeted me until I reached the door with a star bearing my name. Under my hand on the lock, turning the knob as the dressing room materialized in front of me.

Immediately, I was enveloped by the scent of vanilla. Warm lights illuminated the room, matching the furniture in beige tones, including a sofa, a dressing table, and a small table with dried fruits, fresh ones, and bottles of water.

However, my attention focused on the rack beside the furniture. I approached and took off the cover that was suspended on a hook. I placed it on the chair, spreading it out as I unzipped the garment bag, finally revealing the outfit I would wear that night.

My performance would be marked by a yellow ensemble that had been tailored for me some time ago. It consisted of a ruffled top and a matching skirt, providing additional volume to my figure. Although it exposed my abdomen, allowing me the flexibility to dance and move freely on stage thanks to the small shorts I wore under the skirt.

It was a beautiful and practical outfit. It had been in my closet for a long time, and this was the perfect occasion to wear it.

I placed my belongings on the dressing table and secured the dressing room door for more privacy. Dressing was straightforward; however, removing the dress presented some difficulty. Nevertheless, I finally managed to replace it on the dress stand and hang it on the rack.

I turned towards the full-length mirror in the corner of the room, allowing my image to be seen from head to toe, highlighting the combination of yellow that enhances my skin tone and subtly adds volume.

I heard a tapping on the door, and I approached to open it, allowing Sandy's figure to enter the dressing room. I didn't stand up to show her my outfit, as she had witnessed the tailoring process from the beginning. Instead, I sit at the vanity and pull out the makeup I had brought for touch-ups, quickly changing the shade of my lipstick so I can blend in with my outfit and also to mattify my face with powder.

I felt calm until that moment, mentally reviewing the choreographies I would perform. However, when my nickname came out of my manager's lips, I immediately looked at her. I knew Sandy long enough, from my beginnings in this industry, and I could already discern precisely when something was not right.

"What happened?" I immediately ask, although silence persists from Sandy's side. She has chosen to sit on the couch, watching me through the mirror. "Sandy, tell me now, you're making me nervous". I say.

I see a sigh escape her lips as she nods towards me and says, "It's about your performance".

My breathing starts to become uneven as infinite possibilities take shape before me. I remain calmly silent for a moment until I decide to respond.

"Okay..." I affirm, maintaining composure regarding the situation, and wait to get more details. "What happened with that?"

"They said we have to cut it down," she replies at the same time my confusion arises. This time, Sandy doesn't wait for me to ask additional questions and proceeds to explain, "Now, you'll only have time for one song, then you'll have to leave the stage to make way for the next artist".

My eyes narrow in her direction, I turn my back to her, and lean on the back of my seat at the dressing table.

What exactly did she mean by that?

"Next artist?" I ask still confused. "I thought I was the main performance".

"That's right," she replies. "But, apparently, there was a sudden change of plans because they need to add someone else in that slot".

I continue to watch her attentively, examining each of her gestures. She clearly seems nervous, but I feel like she's hiding something more.

"Who?" I venture to ask. The question is enough for Sandy to shake her head repeatedly and get up from her seat on the couch. I watch as she starts pacing around the dressing room, holding her phone and typing at the same time. I call her again, but her response is limited to giving me a look and remaining silent. "Sandy, I was promised a full performance. I've practiced for months to occupy an entire slot, not to be limited to just a few minutes. At the very least, I deserve to know who it is".

Sandy's eyebrows furrow, showing an internal struggle to reveal the truth. Finally, after a sigh that reflects her unease, she utters the name of the responsible party: "It's Harry Styles".

Of all people in this damn industry.

I sigh with frustration and look at myself again in the dressing room mirror. The light illuminates the space, covering my entire face and clearly reflecting my furrowed brow and a pout beginning to form on my lips.

What was originally going to be a complete performance of about ten minutes will now be reduced to only four, with just enough time to present my latest single.

I was upset, or rather, furious. I had dedicated months of effort and rehearsals to this, preparing to occupy an entire slot where I would not only present one but two songs, each with its own set design and choreography. And now, all that work was going to be wasted by having to involuntarily share the spotlight with someone else.

And worst of all, that someone else turned out to be him.

Harry embodied all the negative aspects of my career, being my number one rival since my position began to rise rapidly. There was a time when I considered that his growing popularity along with mine could be seen as a positive boost for my career, but it turned out to be the opposite when I realized he saw it as competition.

At one point, he snatched a venue where I was supposed to give a show. I tried to communicate with his team at that time and eventually with him, thinking it was a mistake. However, when I received a small note on my phone with a headline showing him laughing at the situation and even making sarcastic references to my loss in the middle of his own show, I decided that things needed to change in that regard. 

I could tolerate many things, but I wouldn't allow him and his actions to leave my fans and me hanging.

"I'm really sorry, Maddy. I did my best, but they insisted on sharing the space". I hear Sandy's words, feeling her closer and visualizing her behind me, leaning on the chair that still supports my body.

I nod finally, aware that the issue was not in her hands to resolve, as it transcended our team.

I hear three knocks on the door, announcing that it was time to go. I check myself once again, making sure my makeup is still intact, and rise from my seat, also adjusting my skirt.

"Fuck them all. Let's go".

I hear Sandy's laughter beside me, leading the way as the dressing room door opens, allowing me to re-enter the bright light of the hallways. Most of my team is waiting for me. I greet the dancers who will accompany me with a smile and join them as applause fills the space. My team makes the moment more lively, allowing us to perform a small ritual that has become a tradition for us before each performance. We join our hands and raise them with cheers of excitement.

This is how I finally position myself behind the stage, gaining confidence as I turn my back to the audience. With my right hand, I hold the microphone and squeeze it tightly at least three times, inhaling air as I adjust my breathing.

Until I see the stage light up with blue lights, I close my eyes and let the music fill my ears, a chorus of screams chanting my name initiating my performance.

The performance unfolds exceptionally. The dancers beside me don't hesitate to execute strength in their steps, and I, in turn, accompany them beyond necessity. I put into practice all the breathing exercises, holding the high notes perfectly. All the effort is reflected in the applause and screams around me when the music stops and the lights intensify the drama.

I stayed on stage for an additional time, under everyone's gaze, waiting for the team's signal to descend from the platform. I raise my hand and give a small wave to everyone, receiving warm smiles, many of them from faces familiar to me in the industry.

The cue comes through my in-ear monitors, and with the dim lighting present, I descend from the stage at the back.

My team welcomes me with hugs and some applause as we return to the backstage. However, I sense the music resurfacing once again with a sound of trumpets that extends throughout the environment, triggering my inevitable curiosity.

I turn slightly backward, watching the bright light flooding the stage again in a warm tone, this time accompanied by a tall man who exhibits a unique presence that I have had the chance to witness on a few occasions, and he wears a suit that fits perfectly to his body, made of a fabric that seems to be leather.

I make a small grimace as I see him confidently traverse the stage, as if I had never appeared in this one, looking at the people as his own and quickly winning them over with his movements. The audience erupts in cheers when he drops what appears to be a green feather boa, revealing his bare torso, covered only by his leather jacket.

Not wanting to see any more, I turn around and head back to my dressing room, ready to change my clothes and head this time to the new place where the after party would take place.

I opted for a dress in a celestial shade and also fitted to my body, although the fabrics of this one had a subtle dewy effect that I loved.

As I enter the new lounge, I am greeted by upbeat music from a DJ and the dark lights in shades of red and blue become familiar with my dress. I sense greetings from a few industry acquaintances before finally finding my best friend in the crowd. Near a table at the bar, Ally was actively engaged in a conversation with the guy we once talked about, and then I began to doubt whether I should interrupt.

My lips concealed to prevent my smile from being too evident as I approached, but my gaze shifted, and immediately, I regretted it when I felt my steps instinctively stop.

A few feet away, I spotted Joe with his distinctive brown hair, recognizable to me. However, that wasn't all; next to him, a young blonde placed her hand on his shoulder, carelessly approaching his face while smiling at him.

At that moment, I couldn't pinpoint exactly the feeling I was experiencing, except for the paralysis of my heart that prompted me to continue watching their interaction. I mean, it wasn't common to meet my worst ex again, let alone witness his audacity in introducing the woman I discovered was his lover for much of our relationship.

I felt like I could vomit at any moment, and everything seemed to get worse when I sensed that Joe's gaze shifted from the girl beside him to me.

I felt the world crumbling around me, forcing me to blink and look away, although it was already too late when, from the corner of my eye, I saw his figure starting to approach.

Although Ally was still immersed in her conversation with Shawn, I no longer cared about interrupting them. But they were both far enough away that trying to get there in a hurry would be a hopeless endeavor.

So my only option was to turn around and head back to the dressing rooms, which ended only in colliding with another body in the attempt.

"Have you gotten lost all the way to your table now?" I hear Harry's characteristic husky voice, revealing his presence in front of me with a completely revamped outfit, still in dark tones, wearing a suit that seemed to be crafted from a wool-like fabric, though I couldn't pinpoint it due to the dim lighting. What was completely visible was his torso, now covered by a bividi.

A sigh escapes me. This was the last thing I needed.

"I forgot something in my dressing room," I reply.

"Still your dressing room?" he asks mockingly, causing a furrow in my eyebrows. "I thought once your performance was over, your name simply vanished from that door".

"I don't know, what do you think?" I respond sarcastically, hearing his laughter, knowing he expected me to reply with the same tone. "Did your name already vanish?"

"What do you think?" he replies. I roll my eyes, confident that no one would really see my expression due to the lively atmosphere around us. However, I decide to remain subtly cautious and maintain a falsely enthusiastic expression before smiling at him.

"I don't have time for this, Harry. Excuse me". I mutter under my breath, looking down, instantly erasing my smile, and waiting for his body to give me the pass.

Instead, Harry chooses to inquire, "Are you sure?" leaving me again with an inevitable furrowed brow as I realize he's not moving. "Because I see your ex-boyfriend over there with an attractive blonde a few meters from us," he states. Once again, I feel my heart freeze, and a dry cough resonates in my throat. Uncomfortable, I avert my gaze carefully, avoiding meeting anyone's eyes, until the husky voice manifests once again, but this time a bit closer. "And, in case you've forgotten, the dressing rooms are in the opposite direction".

Damn.

"Of course, I remember," I immediately respond, turning my head to address him directly, allowing him to step back a bit as he notices our proximity due to my movement, though I, for my part, don't even react. "I was going to the bathroom first, and then to my dressing room, that's what I meant".

"Sure". he murmurs with another smile. He doesn't hesitate to express his intention to tease me in front of me. His audacity has persisted since I've known him, and the incendiary reaction every time we cross paths only intensifies over time, becoming increasingly unbearable.

I felt a sense of suffocation every time I encountered him. I often watched him from a distance, displaying evident kindness to the public, being friendly, joking, and laughing, letting his dimples adorn his face. Despite all the charming image he projected around him, my perspective on him remained unchanged.

Every close encounter with Harry carried the accumulated tension throughout our career. The thirst for competition lingered silently as we exchanged glances at various events, and at times, even shared cheeky smiles that revealed our triumph when one of us won in our confrontations.

And, on this occasion, that's precisely what he was taking care of.

"Why don't you let me buy you a drink?" he suddenly asks, causing surprise and confusion on my face. I wait a few seconds before he continues, "As a way to congratulate you on your performance".

And there it was. It wasn't a friendly invitation but a celebration of his own triumph.

I feel discomfort rise on my cheeks, turning them reddish and experiencing the spreading warmth in me.

"Do you mean the performance you were about to steal from me?" I respond inquisitively.

"Did I?" he asks, feigning confusion in his words as his eyebrows tilt in sarcasm and his green eyes narrow.

I take the opportunity to get a bit closer to him, leaving us almost at the same distance as he once chose to move away. However, this time, he chooses to remain motionless in his place, making our height difference more evident, though my response is equally close.

"I know perfectly well that all of that was your fault," I murmur, making sure my words stay between us two. His eyebrows slightly arch as he continues to look at me, and I interpret it as a sign to continue, "It was a solo performance, and obviously, you couldn't stand not being the center of attention tonight".

Harry chooses to remain silent, studying my face carefully. I interpret his silence as confirmation, perhaps even something he was ashamed to admit aloud, and rightfully so, because that was what I really expected.

"You seem pretty sure," he finally responds, dropping his head to one side. "Let me discuss it with liquor on me".

"No way". I immediately deny.

"Your ex is still chasing you," he murmurs once again close to me.

I lower my gaze and inhale deeply.

There was no alternative. Either I faced Harry's words, or I faced Joe. One seemed to be worse than the other, although I couldn't decide which was which; but my instinct only urged me to go along with his proposition, and that's exactly what I did.

"Just one," I reply, reaching a conclusion. "No more".

Immediately, a dimple forms on his face, and an almost malicious look accompanies it. Whether I regretted it or not, I had already accepted, and he wouldn't allow me to truly retract.

Finally, this seemed to be my destiny for the night.

"Of course".

Harry turns, indicating for me to follow as the music around us increases as we approach the bar table. Lights flash in a variety of colors, now immersed in a dark violet tone. I grip my small purse firmly as bumps affect my body due to the dancing crowd, possibly drunk, without realizing or anticipating the space they occupy.

I don't pay much attention as I return my gaze forward, realizing that the bar atmosphere is left behind as we move forward.

I furrow my brow and try to match my pace with Harry's, striving to find an explanation. However, he keeps moving with determination and doesn't even turn around, knowing I'm still following him.

I identify the nearest exit door and decide to stop him at that moment. I pull his arm and hold it close to me, causing his pace to halt, and he finally turns to look at me.

"Where are we heading?" I inquire.

"I'll buy you a drink," he simply responds with a shrug, implying that the answer should be obvious.

"But I thought—" my words are interrupted by a sidelong gesture from him as he answers: "Those there aren't good".

My eyes narrow in suspicion. "Did you even try them?" I ask.

"I heard some comments," he says, shrugging his shoulders again.

Harry doesn't wait for me to say more and takes advantage of the grip I still have on his arm to grab my wrist, pulling my body slightly to keep walking.

The door of the lounge is opened by the security personnel guarding it, and the night breeze intensifies around me, leaving the noise of the music behind.

Once the doors close, I can appreciate the difference between the white lights coming from one of the main parking lots of the venue and the various luxury cars parked all over the place. Harry leads us to one of them, specifically a Range Rover that is slightly separated from the other cars. His hand releases my wrist and goes in the opposite direction of the car, letting me pass alone to the other side. I stay there for a few seconds, watching his interaction with the driver until he returns to my side, opens the back door, and lets me go first. I express a "thank you" in response and get into the car.

The journey turned uncomfortably silent, allowing me to settle at one end of the fine leather seat as I watched the city streets materialize around us through the polarized windows. My grip on my bag occasionally intensified, fidgeting with my fingers in an attempt to calm my nervousness.

The moment inside the lounge replayed in my mind, with Joe's brown eyes fixed on me, probably witnessing my exit with Harry. However, all the concern faded, carried away by the same tide to which I was willingly submitting. It's at that moment I hear my companion's voice, alerting me that we have arrived.

Harry steps out of the car first, unexpectedly assuming the role of a chauffeur as he opens the door and takes my hand while helping me descend. I feel his warm touch, contrasting with the multiple rings adorning his fingers. A chill runs down my spine, accentuated by the surrounding breeze.

The environment seems colder than usual, permeated by the salty aroma, and the presence of several yachts parked around the area makes it even more apparent. I furrow my brow, directing my gaze to the man beside me, who seems immune to my gesture and keeps his eyes straight ahead.

What the hell am I doing here?

"Where are we?" I inquire. More out of the need to know, I do it with the desire to get a genuine explanation from him.

It's only then that Harry turns his gaze back to me, revealing a hint of mischief in his eyes.

"I thought it was obvious by the yachts around us," he replies. At that moment, his figure starts to move, and I realize the car has withdrawn. The cool breeze surrounds us as I shift my attention to the majestic yachts practically next to me. One more luxurious than the other, with a shiny appearance, but this only serves to increase my confusion.

"I mean," I begin to say as I follow him down the wooden path, causing my heels to resonate more loudly. "I know where we are, but why are we here?"

Harry instinctively turns, throwing me a brief look before responding, "Because I owe you a drink". My gaze intensely connects with his, and I notice one of his dimples forming again due to his smirk. "What?"

"This is not a bar," I reply, pointing out the obvious at that moment. Our steps are the only response I continue to receive until, after what seems like a few minutes of walking, we stop in front of a particular yacht.

It was almost as extensive as the others, presenting itself with at least three sections from this perspective, equally white and gleaming, illuminated from the outside and showing only a glimpse of its interior. However, this one stood out even more among all, displaying the initials "HS" on the front, which leads me to connect the dots and take a closer look at the owner that I now recognize.

"What better than having a drink in the middle of the ocean, don't you think?"

For some reason, I choose silence as a response and wait for Harry, once again, to help me climb the stairs leading inside the yacht.

Inside, the opulence becomes even more evident. The bow presents itself as an illuminated catwalk, even equipped with spacious sofas for comfort. The interior looks almost like a small apartment, also furnished, with a table and chairs for any meal one might want to enjoy. A carpet covers the entire floor, softening the sound of my heels, while some ornaments decorate the space, highlighting the golden details around.

"Make yourself at home," I suddenly hear Harry say from behind, taking me by surprise. I turn my head instantly, slightly bumping into his face, as I see him enter the space. Finally, I notice that in the background, behind a partition, there is a wide stool that seems to be part of the kitchen and, in turn, the bar with a variety of drinks on display welcomes my presence. Harry's body is disappearing into that area, blending in and leaving me alone at the entrance.

A sigh escapes my lips as I sink into the spacious sofa. I check my bag, opening it to take out my phone and heading straight to Ally's contact. The call doesn't ring until the third tone, by which time I already hear the music hitting my speakers, forcing me to move the phone slightly away from my ear.

"Maddy?" I finally hear my friend say. "Where the hell are you?"

"I'm fine, calm down," I reply. "I came with a— Um," at that moment, I didn't know what to say. I had called to assure her that I was okay, but I hadn't considered the most obvious: what would I tell her if she asked what I was doing? I couldn't just spill the situation, as that would prolong the conversation, and the last thing I wanted was for Harry to hear all the details as if it were a gossip show. I quickly think of a response before Ally starts to suspect. "With a friend I met backstage, and we came for a drink at a... small nearby bar so no one can make assumptions," I conclude. I bite my lower lip as I hear Ally's response materialize on the other side of the line.

"Do I know that friend?"

"Uh," I hesitate for a moment before responding, genuinely trying to stop lying altogether. So I say, "Yes, probably". But before she can ask more questions, I interrupt her. "I'll tell you later".

"That's fine," she replies. I hear the music around her slightly fading, suggesting that she's stepping aside to get more privacy. "But is he at least hot?" she asks. And I have no idea what to answer.

I swallow as I look back into the yacht, watching Harry's broad back and curls from a distance. Even meters away, he appears unperturbed, and curiosity fills my instincts again. I hide my lips and look straight ahead.

"A bit," I reply.

"Alright," she responds. "Let me know if you need me to pick you up or something, I'm here for you".

"I know, there's no need to worry," I reply. "Are you going back with Robert?" I ask, knowing that now only my driver remains to ensure she gets to her own apartment safely.

"Well..." I hear a small laugh from her, and my eyebrows raise as I wait for her response. "I think I'm heading somewhere else too".

"Oh..." A shared laughter joins the conversation. "Okay... I understand," I nod through the call. "I'll wait for the details".

"I'll be waiting for yours too. Goodbye," I hear her slightly dragging the words, so I simply respond with a goodbye and hang up.

It seems I wasn't the only one who had an unexpected encounter.

A few minutes passed as I dedicated myself to look around, putting my phone back in my bag. At that moment, I hear the partition opening, with a subtle but attention-catching sound making my head turn in its direction.

Then, I see Harry holding two glasses in his hands, bringing one towards me and keeping the other.

The  liquor has a hue similar to pink, sharpening my curiosity as I bring it to my lips. The sip results in a bittersweet taste, immediately recognizing the mix of vodka and strawberry.

"It's really good, thank you," I comment as I continue to feel the subtle sweetness on my lips. I sense the sofa slightly sinking under the weight of someone else a few meters away, as if they were trying to maintain a distance. Harry leaves his drink on the table in front of us, watching me as I continue to drink.

It truly was delicious, but I no longer knew what else to say besides continuing to sip. So, I decided that the moment might be more bearable if I introduced some alcohol into my system. That would be the only way to stop thinking about the look Harry was giving me at that moment.

"Now we can address what you mentioned in that room," I hear his rough voice through my ears, awakening any instinct as I pay attention. "You seemed very confident in stating that I tried to steal your presentation".

"Wasn't that the case?" I inquire in response, finally placing my glass with the drink less than halfway on the table, right next to his. "It doesn't make sense for you to deny it. And neither do I have any point in remembering it". I tell him. A silence hangs between us, leaving his response in the void as an idea forms in my mind. At this point, the liquor has started to take effect, and although I'm not seeing blurry nor unconscious by any means, my filter disappears. And I really have no objections to that, as it is exactly what I wanted.

"I propose something," I start, capturing his attention with a steady gaze into his green eyes, which seem filled with curiosity, not really anticipating what I'm about to say. "For tonight, I'll leave all that behind, and you won't mention it with the intention of annoying me."

"Do I do it to annoying you?" he asks, laughing, one that highlights his dimples again as he shakes his head expressively and approaches the table to reach for his glass.

"You really have difficulty recognizing what you do, don't you?" I inquire, tilting my head to the right.

"That's all you assume," he responds.

"All you don't admit," I retort.

"Now you're calling me a liar," he comments after taking another sip of his drink. His words are laced with more sarcasm than usual, and his cheeky smile becomes more evident. "After you've had a drink, that's a bit disrespectful".

"Tell me a truth," I suddenly say, catching him completely off guard for a moment. His eyes meet mine directly, squinting slightly and raising his chin a bit. I watch as his tongue passes over his lips, moistening them and giving them a natural shine, before he answers: "I watched your performance".

"Now, a lie,"

A smirk begins to form on him, and then he replies, "I watched your performance".

Unexpectedly, a smile of my own appears on my face.

"I think it's your turn now," he tells me. I nod my head and inhale a bit of air before settling into my seat, allowing my dress to rise slightly and reveal more of my thigh. I don't bother to fix it, noticing Harry's gaze descending before realizing that I'm watching him.

And then another idea crosses my mind.

"Let's make this more interesting," I propose. "The loser will take off an item of clothing".

Harry's eyebrows raise in surprise, but quickly lower, leaving his expression showing only curiosity.

"Are you sure?" he questions.

"Of course," I reply without hesitation, reaffirming my confidence.

Harry responds with a small sigh, settling into the sofa, letting his body sink a bit more into it. He adopts a pose by resting his arm on the backrest and slightly opening his legs for comfort. In the whole process, I can't help but observe him.

"I didn't know that bold side of you, Maddy," he suddenly mentions my nickname, leaving me with a slight frown, wondering how he knew. "Who would've thought".

"On the contrary, I feel like I know a lot about you," I reply in a lower tone.

"Oh, really?" he asks, matching my tone. A playful smile forms on my face as I nod.

"Yes," I start, leaning slightly closer to him. My knees press into the sofa, and my hands sink into it as I slowly approach his body in a crawling position. I focus solely on following Harry's eyes, which darken, taking on the same tone as the night that envelops us, abandoning the green they briefly exhibited. I stop at the level of his knees, not directly colliding with them, and then I also rest my arm on the back of the sofa.

"You're narcissistic," I murmur, allowing silence to settle between us as my words hang in the air. "You enjoy being the center of attention, and when someone doesn't give it to you, you seek it at all costs," I continue. "That's why you brought me here. You can't stand that I won't surrender to you for real".

Silence settles between us again, but this time I feel the atmosphere becoming denser. Despite the breeze, I experience how heat floods my body, reddening my cheeks and forcing the opening of my lips to facilitate the circulation of oxygen. As for Harry, watching each of my movements with his eyes, which still retain their dark color, observing me with precision.

His lips receive another moistening from his tongue before he responds: "Aren't you already doing it?" he asks, his voice deeper than usual.

"You lost," I retort. A look of fake disappointment forms on my face, followed by a smile that I can't hide. "You know what that means".

Harry doesn't say anything for a few more seconds, until I finally notice one of his dimples returning on his cheek as he lowers his gaze. And with a final nod, he replies, "If you insist".

The minutes keep ticking away, and the atmosphere becomes hotter as Harry's clothes disappear. I always trusted my statements, no matter the question, and thanks to my certainty in words, Harry accepted his defeat in most of the rounds.

However, things took a turn; my glass was already empty, and my embarrassment vanished with it. This time, I was more than obvious, allowing the only garment that played against me, my dress, to disappear from my body when I admitted defeat, leaving me in lingerie. Harry simply watches the moment as I stand up from the sofa to make it easier to remove my dress. My lace set is black, with small flowers adorning the edges.

I leave the dress on the sofa and approach to return to my place, but Harry's hand lands on my wrist, stopping me as I look at him.

My breathing starts to become irregular, accentuated by his touch that intensifies it. I watch as Harry rises from his seat, standing in front of me, highlighting once again our height difference, but closing the gap nonetheless. His cool chest impacts against mine, brushing against me in a contact I eagerly await. I feel anxious to experience more, and Harry seems to sense it, patiently waiting to take my neck with his palm, sliding his right thumb over my lips. In an instant, I part them slightly, allowing the gentle touch of his fingertip to meet my mouth and eventually take its place inside.

My lips wrap around his finger, caressing it with my tongue as a circular motion saturates it with saliva, all of this under Harry's watchful gaze from above.

And at that moment, when I feel I can no longer bear the pressure and try to move away to take the next step, Harry tightens his grip on my neck, placing his entire palm around it, leaving me immobile for a moment and allowing my breath to come out with slight difficulty through my mouth. I can feel my heart beating harder, and at this point, I have no doubts that he can hear it too. His palm raises my neck, placing his face inches from mine. My gaze lowers and rises in an expectant rhythm, watching his lips and returning to his eyes, a rhythm that keeps me restless, asking for more, craving more, and only calming when his face takes on the expression I desire. His gaze, changing in the darkness of the night, follows me, and my agony comes to an end when his lips meet mine.

A passionate, desperate, thirsty kiss fills me, complementing my body and intensifying my sensations. My hands become explorers, and he satisfies them as I touch his body, tracing his face, reaching his hair, pressing him more against me, if only it were possible.

Harry, for his part, releases his hold on my neck and descends down my body just as unrestrained, exploring every corner of my body with his touch. He moves across my back with intensity, brushing with delicacy and eliciting a moan from me during our kiss. His rings are still cold, becoming more evident as he descends, exerting pressure on my skin and possibly leaving marks due to their firmness. Although I wouldn't admit it out loud, I wished it to be so, especially on my buttocks, where his pinkie and ring fingers, adorned with his significant initial rings, exerted pressure.

The kiss becomes careless, causing us to separate slightly in search of air. Harry takes advantage of this to grab my hips, and in an unexpected move for me, he turns me, allowing my body to fall and press me forcefully against the table in front of us.

My face and palms are pressed against the glass, adjusting to the space, although I have no complaints about it. My senses intensify, perceiving Harry's body behind me with strength, and even more noticeably, his erection protruding from his boxers, pressing firmly against me.

My eyes begin to close, surrendering to the sensation even when my underwear remains a barrier between us. However, as seconds pass, desperation takes over me again; the dripping of my fluids only increases, and my hips begin to move as a signal. But Harry takes care of putting an end to it, pressing my hips once again and, this time, letting his palm strike forcefully on my buttock.

I can't contain a scream that escapes from me, while my hands desperately search for something to hold onto. I realize that the smoothness of the glass plays against me, and I can only try to hold on firmly to the table.

I feel the tingling on my skin, probably already reddened, but it is soothed by Harry's palm, which moves gently around, in a dangerous massage that approaches and moves away from the area that needs it the most. His fingers intertwine with my underwear, slightly raising the fabric and allowing the breeze from the surroundings to reach that part. Another moan escapes from my lips, and I close my eyes, surrendering to the sensation.

"It looks so good on you," I hear his voice near my ear as he continues exploring the fabric, causing a shiver to run down my spine. "It's a shame that it's getting in the way right now".

It's at that moment when I hear the fabric's crunch, and my eyes open immediately. Harry doesn't give me time to react as I feel his erection finally pressing against me. Touching me, but this time without restrictions, he maintains an ascending and descending rhythm while moistening it with my own fluids. The sensation is pleasurable, so much so that my lips part more, and sounds of satisfaction resonate throughout the bow.

My mind focuses exclusively on the sensation, paying attention to every movement, and I join in with my hips. Harry keeps his firm grip on them until, at one point, I feel him distant. I don't perceive his touch with mine, and a pout forms instantly on my lips. I turn slightly towards him and see that he has a condom package in his hands, already starting to open it.

My pout becomes more evident, emitting a sound that draws his attention back to my face. I know it's the right thing to do, and yet surprisingly I find myself feeling disappointed by this when I should be grateful; but considering that I am free from any disease, perhaps I expect the same from him.

Harry watches me for a few seconds before lowering the condom, half-open, and looking at me attentively.

"I have no doubt that you're safe, but are you taking care of yourself?" he asks. My heart starts to beat rapidly as I nod immediately.

"Should I doubt that you're safe too?" I inquire in response, just to be reasonably sure.

"I can show you my certificate another day if you wish," he says, showing a serious expression that indicates his proposition is genuine. A smile escapes from me.

"Do you come with a pedigree?" I jokingly ask. Then his gaze changes once again, observing me with darkened eyes.

And I feel Harry's response materialize in a smack that elicits a moan of pain and pleasure from me.

"Damn," I mutter through gritted teeth.

"Very funny," he replies in turn.

The moment is brief, with his anger disappearing or maybe intensifying when the first penetration takes place.

A moan escapes from me, intensifying as the thrusts become more frequent. Harry shows no mercy, much less moderates his strokes. He grips my hip with one hand while the other presses into my lower back, pushing me harder against the table with each thrust and leaving me adrift with each impact.

"Fuck, Maddy," his simple voice, mentioning my nickname again, provokes a sigh that escapes my lips, being carried away by his movement. "You feel so good".

My eyes struggle to stay open, wishing to truly absorb the moment in all my senses but becoming increasingly difficult as the intensity builds.

The upper part of my underwear still rested on me, but now the fabric becomes uncomfortable as my body craves the slightest freshness to contrast with the moment. Apparently, I wasn't the only one seeking it, as Harry, as if reading my thoughts, shifts the hand that was on my back to my bra, and in a swift motion, unclasps it, freeing my body.

I feel his torso press against my now exposed back, lifting me slightly and allowing his hand to fit perfectly on my bare chest. I bite my lower lip once again with such force that it anticipates the possibility of blood in my taste.

Harry's caress feels soft on my skin, creating an absolute contrast with his movements inside me. Occasionally, his roughness manifests fully when he lightly squeezes my nipples, making the sounds coming out of my mouth more pronounced as he advances.

"Do you want to tease me again?" his voice emerges as I drop the question and focus on the sensation. "Come on, pretty girl, talk to me," he insists once more, trying to provoke a response. I bite my lip, holding back a smile, aware that I am getting into a small dangerous game at that moment.

Harry's grip intensifies, pressing against my skin, probably realizing the dynamic that was unfolding.

"Or do you prefer me to call you a slut?" the simple suggestion makes my back arch, revealing my immediate response, and I hear a husky laugh from his part. "Is that what you are? A little slut who enjoys my cock filling you?" another moan from me manifests in the space, representing my own thoughts.

"Does it feel good, huh?" Too good, I wanted to respond, but once again, I chose to hide my lips between my teeth. Then, I feel my hair being pulled sharply, lifting my body from the table and leaving me in an arched position. My buttocks rise, and the sound of the collision of our skins becomes more evident.

"I bet that idiot you had as an ex didn't even get close to this," I hear him say, and actually, far from worrying about the mention of my ex, the unspoken response to his statement is more than evident in my body.

Harry personified desire in its purest form, and the longing for more became evident in each of our encounters. I hadn't realized this until this moment when I felt him hitting inside me, holding me firmly, talking dirty to me. This was all I needed.

I hear Harry's breath in my ear, intense enough to reverberate in my senses and take me to experience a deeper level than I thought I could reach in my whole body. The adrenaline keeps rising in me, reflected by the thin layer of sweat on my skin, completely undoing the smoothing I once had.

My hands, full of desperation, try to move backward in an attempt for contact. However, Harry's firm grip on me makes this almost impossible; daring to move on my own would mean losing balance completely.

I have no sense of how much time has passed, with the only sound being the echo of my moans mixed with his in the space, when I feel everything come to a complete stop. I turn my head towards him, seeking his gaze and finding it with an amused expression that he doesn't even try to hide.

"Keep going," I demand in a whimper, but Harry ignores my words, still watching me and still inside me. "Damn it, Harry, continue," I express this time with annoyance. For his part, Harry tilts his head to the side, looking at me expectantly.

"Not even a please?" he asks.

A sigh escapes from me. I don't hesitate to do it. Honestly, at this moment, anything was valid for me; I just wanted to feel him again.

"Please, please," I murmur to him. The plea makes his eyes darken once again more than usual, and his gaze reflects the quickness of the change in his expression. "Continue, please".

I don't even finish speaking when Harry pushes his cock once again into me, with a speed that equals or surpasses the previous one. My grip tightens on the table, holding on with strength and trying to endure as much as I could.

"Tell me a truth, Maddy," I hear him say in my ear. "Tell me how you feel. Tell me you need this as much as I do". His words express an assertion, being confident as always, and if I had been fully conscious, I would have laughed just to tease him. However, now I felt like I was levitating and was willing to follow every order he gave me just to keep feeling him.

It was surprising to admit that his effect really caused this, the nullification of my own reason, yielding to his, and letting myself be carried away by the waves of the same ocean we were in. That was Harry, the whirlpool I willingly submitted to, just to experience another taste.

At least, for this night.

"Tell me, or I'll stop". I hear his threatening voice, and before I can articulate a response, I feel the firm pressure of his hands on my hips, urging me once again.

"Holy shit," I manage to say, gripping the table tightly. My head tilts back, feeling his own chest behind me as he advances in his movements. I can't form a coherent sentence without being interrupted by the pleasant sensation. As his movement continues, I pray for him not to stop; therefore, his name escapes my lips, expressing a single plea that I hope satisfies him, although with Harry, we both know it will never be enough.

"Come on, pretty girl," he repeats that nickname that sends a shiver down my spine once again. "Tell me a truth or you'll lose again".

"It feels so good," I finally utter, albeit still with difficulty. "Don't you dare stop," I warn, hearing a low chuckle in response. "I'm so close".

"Come," he responds immediately, accelerating his pace inside me, causing my eyes to close. "Let me feel how you tighten around me".

"Come with me," I manage to say only.

"You don't have to ask me twice," I hear his response in my ear.

The intensification of his thrusts makes them more rhythmic, marking a strong beat that increases the collision between our naked bodies. My head continues arched backward, but this time it remains immobilized by his arm around my neck, holding firmly in the precise place. The pressure is strong enough to be felt, but still allows me to breathe without too much difficulty. However, this complicates as I feel my movement synchronizing with his, my hips coming to life on their own as I approach the peak of pleasure in my life.

Tears run down my cheeks, leaving a salty taste on my lips, inevitably absorbed while my mouth emits moans or seeks air. The walls of my pussy begin to contract, and I can feel the pulsations inside me from Harry's cock, indicating that he is as close as I am.

I couldn't help but wish that he would come before me, longing to experience his reactions firsthand. However, the inevitable happened.

I felt a sensation of warmth rising through my body, wrapped in an electricity that made me move more restlessly and carelessly. My moans became louder, and finally, I experienced the tension bursting around me. I was unable to feel anything other than my own release and the overwhelming sense of satisfaction that invaded me.

Harry's grip relaxes on my neck, releasing it and allowing my body to fall back onto the table. It is at that moment, when I finally find myself able to regain awareness of my surroundings, that I can feel Harry's body leaning against mine, embracing me gently with his posture and holding me with delicate gestures.

The synchronization of our own breaths takes at least a few minutes, during which we both maintain our positions and experience an immediate sense of relaxation that extends throughout our bodies.

The minutes seem to prolong, and fatigue envelops me, allowing me to perceive only the freshness of the night breeze as Harry pulls away. I feel his touch on my legs, wiping me with what seems to be paper and holding me to prevent me from falling. Finally, I let myself fall on the couch, backed by him, and let myself be carried away by exhaustion, while Harry's green eyes are the last thing I see before everything plunges into darkness.

The whisper of the sea and the movement of the waves wake me up, and I realize that the night has given way to the blue morning sky around the yacht.

My drowsy eyes struggle to accurately perceive the environment until I focus on the table in front of me, which seems to be located farther from its usual position, several meters away from the scattered chairs in the place.

Memories of the previous night assault me at once with this landscape, leading me to look up and meet the serene face of a sleeping Harry beneath me.

I contemplate some of his curls falling onto his forehead, while I realize that his face has small marks from my dark lipstick. A faint smile forms on my lips as I try to move in my position without waking him.

In my attempt, I look around again, noticing that my bag is also scattered on the floor and has started buzzing similar to my notifications, which doesn't cease.

My brow slightly furrows, trying to distance myself carefully from Harry once again until I finally manage to and take my bag in my hands, pulling out my phone.

The time is revealed to me, noticing that it might be due to the various notifications that were coming in. On the screen, I see messages from some friends, numerous missed calls from Ally and Sandy, and a last message from an unknown number.

I access the last message from Ally, finding her response that she is already home and noting a drastic change this morning, or more precisely, since dawn. Her messages started with capital letters and filled the chat with about twenty monosyllables, culminating in a final message begging me to explain what was happening.

I didn't fully understand until I decided to open the link she attached to the message. Then, a note from People magazine opens in my browser, with my profile face and the image of a smiling Harry next to me.

I close my eyes for a moment. I should have anticipated that this would happen.

Inevitably, I continue scrolling down the page, and a big headline appears, accompanied by more photos of me getting into his black car and disappearing with Harry, leaving no trace of us throughout the night.

«CAUGHT IN A SPECIAL NIGHT Has Madison Moore decided to leave behind the melancholic romance and opt for vibrant pop? Discover the latest details about the encounter between the star girl and none other than Harry Styles.»

Shit.

[moonchildstyles]

very indulgent pussy eating blurb for pretty girl from Prosecco pls! I need to read him absolutely going insane w the thought of eating her out and then getting to do it!! ♡

wordcount: 7.2k+

—————

Hooking his fingers into the waist of her skirt, a smug smile crossed Harry's features at the feel of the layer of goosebumps that prickled (Y/N)'s skin. The tip of his nose skated along the column of her throat as he began easing down the fabric.

"Don't know how I let y'leave on time this morning while looking like this," he murmured, his words dripping and seeping into her skin. He felt a little too accomplished when she felt her hands tighten on his shoulders. 

"Shouldn't have," she told him, her voice matching the quiet of his bedroom, "I could've skipped my morning classes to stay with you."

Harry couldn't help the laughter that fell from his lips, smiling up at her from where he was making a point to slowly ease her skirt down her legs. "You'll take any reason to skip class, pretty girl." 

A gentle smile took her features as she shrugged down at him. Harry only shook his head before he laid all of his attention out on her body, dotting kisses down the curves of her form as he moved her skirt to catch on her ankles. Helping her discard the garment, he flung it to join the pile already on the floor consisting of both of their shirts and her cardigan. He didn't waste a moment before settling his eyes on her near-bare form. 

Down to only her bra and underwear, she was a vision in his bedsheets. Her chest was nearly spilling out of her bra from the amount of times he had pushed the cups out of the way to kiss at the swells and leave his mark. Though, what had his attention captured and unwilling to let go, was the sight of her soft thighs spread apart and the pair of pearly, satin panties tucked between—completely mismatched to the rose toned cotton bra she had on. From where he was sitting, he could see a small wet spot decorating the underside, giving away just how eager she was to have him. 

His cock bloated in his pants, urging him forward with a near-drooling mouth. He'd never had his mouth between her thighs before, always a little too giddy to have his cock inside instead. Today could be the perfect day to take his time with her, get to know more of her body and what else he could do to make her float away for him. 

"So pretty, sweetheart," he murmured to her, fitting his hands on the soft curve of her waist, "Prettiest I've ever seen." 

He didn't have to look at her to know that she was biting back a smile, gazing at him with a pair of heart eyes that he never grew tired of. He focused on planting his lips to the soft of her stomach, just under the line of her bra before working his way down. His fingertips grazed the thin sides of her panties, attempting to work them down her spread thighs as he kissed down her body. 

It was when he started pulling down her underwear, hitting a bit of a lag with how drenched her center was that her panties clung to her form, that had Harry's breath catching. He couldn't wait to get his mouth on her.

Before he could get very far, only kissing down to her bellybutton, (Y/N) moved her hands from where they were on his shoulders to land on his cheeks. Her fingertips dipped into the curls on the sides of his head, her grip gentle as she directed him upwards. 

"Just want you," she told him, curling her body in order to meet him halfway and press her lips to his in a distracting kiss.

While he was a bit disappointed to have been pulled off track, he wasn't going to argue with her if this was one of her boundaries for the night. Instead of resuming his trek down her form, he settled on parting his lips just so and allowing her tongue to tangle with his. 

"Y'have me, pretty girl," he murmured into her mouth, helping pull her panties down before fitting his hips between her thighs. 

His disappointment didn't last very long, not when she could feel that wetness he had been craving now pressed against the ridge of his cock. He'd taste her another night.

—————

Throwing his head back, Harry felt a dreamy smile land on his lips as he breathed out a sigh. With his eyes shuttered, he sunk further into the couch cushions with his legs spread and his pretty girl on her knees before him. His hand in her hair tightened, clumsily ensuring no stray hairs impeded her vision. 

"God, sweetheart, gonna make me cum so hard," he groaned, forcing himself to peel his eyes open to get a look at her. 

With her hair pulled back, Harry could see every plane of her face, every shift of her features, and flutter of her lashes. There was a shine to her eyes that always appeared whenever she dropped to her knees for him, glimmering every time she looked up at him through the fan of her lashes. Her skin was warm, cheeks and chin slicked with her own salvia and his pearly precum. Her glossy lips were snug around his cock, only the barest remains of her glitter lipgloss having survived him pushing into her mouth. 

He couldn't help to moan at the sight of her, practically melting into the cushions. Widening the spread of his legs, he pushed her head down that much more with his grip on her hair. Just the very tip of her nose grazed the thatch of hair at his base. She gagged the smallest bit around him, throat contracting while tears collecting in her eyes like stars. Instinctively, Harry went to pull back, allow her space to breathe, but she stayed just where she was with her hands stationed on his thighs, nails digging into the plush skin. She paced her breathing and leveled herself out before she looked at him with her watery gaze. 

"So good, sweetheart, so good" he praised breathlessly, scratching his fingers at her scalp in a soothing run, "Doing so good for me. Y'like doing this for me?" 

With his mouth dropped in a gape and his breath coming out in puffs, Harry could only watch as she pulled off of him. His cock bobbed in her face, slick with her spit, a string of salvia connecting his tip to the pillow of her bottom lip. Her mouth was swollen as she looked up at him, her hands squeezing the flesh of his thighs as she shuffled forward—as if she couldn't be close enough then.

"I love it," she breathed, voice crackling, "I love making you feel good, H." 

Canting his head, the beginnings of a smile touched at his features. His hands in her hair were gentle as he directed her forward just enough to press her swollen lips to his cock. "I know, pretty. Y'always make me feel so good, y'don't even know." 

(Y/N) had the nerve to look up at him bashfully through the frame of her lashes as she puckered her lips against the head of his cock, kissing at him just like he taught. It was like watching his own personal performance the way she gave everything to him in order to make him happy. His own little movie star, he thought with a tense in his abdomen.

He watched as she dragged her tongue along the underside of his length, taking a moment to tongue at his balls like she knew he liked. She took him into her mouth as deep as she could all while he watched as her raptured audience. 

Seeing her face slick with his arousal and blissed out, there was a part of him that wanted to pull her from his cock and to fit his head between her own thighs instead. He hadn't been able to get the thought of going down on her out of his mind since he fantasized over that wet spot on her panties days ago. He wanted to be the one with a swollen pout and slick on his cheeks; he wanted to give everything he could to her, wrap his lips around her clit and dig his tongue inside her. The thought had his cock flexing in her mouth, a blurt of more precum seeping out. 

Maybe he could have both, he thought—he could have her on his face while she sucked his cock at the same time. His hands tightened in her hair at the thought, a moan of her name fell from his lips. He felt breathless when he tried to tell her as much, that he wanted to try something with her before he came. 

(Y/N) seemed to be spurred on by his actions, doing that much more to make him cum down her throat. Before he could warn her, heed her to stop now before he would be too spent to do anything special for her, she readied herself with her nails digging into his thighs, taking him further. He could feel the slide of her tongue over his shaft, the closing of her throat around his tip. Where she couldn't reach, her slick hands came to take care of him. 

"Sweetheart—shit—I—" he choked out, his eyes fluttering to a close despite how badly he wanted to watch her. His hand in her hair could do nothing more than tighten among the strands, every bit of his energy and attention being too spent on the coiling in his stomach.

It didn't take much for him to succumb to the pleasure she was giving, his balls drawing tight to his cock just before he felt the first spray of his cum down her throat. She gagged around him, the tight muscles drawing that much more of a reaction out of him. A melody of moans fell from his mouth, mixing with (Y/N)'s own rumbling ones he felt more than he heard. His thighs tensed on either side of her, his cum mixing with the slick saliva of her mouth. 

He wasn't sure how long he sat there with his breath robbed from his lungs, flooding her mouth. By the time he had more on his mind other than how good the warmth of her mouth felt or how deeply he swore he was feeling his release, (Y/N) was doing nothing more than delicately sucking on the head of his cock, licking over his slit. 

With his eyes refocusing in the present, he could see the white remains of his cum on her tongue. The sight had his cock jumping in her hand. The reaction had a small smile decorating her face before she drew away completely, looking up at him with pride despite her disheveled appearance. 

"That was a lot," she quipped, her voice a bit stilted as she dropped her cheek to lay against the cuff of his knee. 

A plume of laughter fell from his lips as he shook his head at her. Raking his fingers through her hair, he rolled his lips between his teeth, still thinking about the fantasy that pushed him so direly over the edge despite knowing he didn't have the energy to execute it anymore (that was thirty-five for you). 

"It was, yeah," he smiled at her, curling down towards her until he was capturing her lips in a tender kiss. "Jus' for you." 

"Thank you," she peeped, drawing another peal of laughter from him. 

"C'mere, pretty girl," he beckoned, drawing away just to welcome her onto his lap.

Careful of his softening cock, she settled on his lap with her thighs astride his hips. (Y/N) wrapped her arms around his neck, melting into him with her eyes fluttering closed. 

"Thank you, sweetheart," he murmured into her hair, dropping a kiss to the crown. 

He could feel the smile blooming on her cheeks at his appreciation. "That's just as much for me as it is for you, honestly," she told him, amusement tinting her tone.

Though he was sure she was trying to get him to laugh with her, the implication had him rolling his neck until his head was thrown back against the back of the couch. His eyes shuttered as he recalled the unfulfilled vision of her sitting on his face with his mouth between her thighs. The idea made his cock ache.

God, he needed to eat her out—and soon.

—————

Harry couldn't tear his eyes off of (Y/N)'s body and the way the shimmering fabric of her dress clung to her form. The short hem fluttered around her thighs, shifting just enough as she stepped through her apartment to show off an extra inch of her skin for him to feast his eyes upon. His cock grew thick in his trousers, the fabric tightening as he attempted to keep his focus on the night's plans instead of making new ones. 

"I'm almost ready. I just need to do a couple more things," she prattled as she passed him by, feet still bare with only a single earring in and her hair half done. 

"Take your time," he told her, barely registering his own words as he swore he could spy the line of her panties through the fabric of her dress. He knitted his fingers together in his lap, a tactic used in hopes of keeping them to himself. 

It wasn't until she passed by his spot on the couch another pair of times, looking a touch more put together with her tiny dress fluttering around her body, that he lost his fight. She had her shoes of choice in hand when she padded by him, saying something about needing a couple of more minutes when he reached out and hooked his arm around her middle. She was stopped in her tracks, looking at him with wide eyes. 

"I'm almost done, I just n—"

"I know, I know," he told her, brushing her off in favor of dropping his hands to the soft give her thighs. "Just let me look at you a little. You've been running around, barely letting me see you before you're gone again—it's not fair." 

Sliding his hands up the hem of her dress, he could feel the goosebumps that pebbled over her skin. The length of his fingers hit the waist of her panties, digits hooking into the line.

Pushing her hand through his hair, she canted her head. "We're already running late, H. I think Tawny's gonna be mad." 

Harry shook his head, dropping a kiss to her plush thigh, his nose skimming the end of her dress. "She'll be fine. Jus' tell her I got sick and I can take care of you instead." 

Peering up at her, he waited for her permission before he would take down her panties and push her dress up. She was rolling her lips between her teeth, her hand in his hair pulsing. 

"We did that a couple of weeks ago, though," she murmured, an apology already swimming in her eyes. 

Shrugging, Harry flexed his fingers on her hips. "They won't notice." 

Releasing her glossy pout, (Y/N) offered him a soft smile before she started shooing his hands from underneath her dress. "You know they will. Let's just go, and we can leave early and come home. If you still want me, you can have me then." 

Harry relented then, drawing away from her core and dropping his hands to a more appropriate station on her legs. "Alright," he petulantly sighed, reveling in the small laugh she rewarded him with, "I suppose I can wait." 

"I'll make it worth your while," she promised, bending down to press her lips to his pouted ones with her hands cupping his jaw, "Let me finish and then we can go, honey." 

"I'll be here," he said, sending her off with a pat to her bottom as she bent to collect her shoes from the floor. 

He couldn't manage to tear his eyes from her as she padded back to her bedroom, folding his hands in his lap with his palms buzzing from her warmth.

—————

Harry's hand sat gently on (Y/N)'s thigh, his palm a cuff around the curve. Opposing his soft touch was the tick that had his jaw clenched shut. His throat bobbed every time he chanced a look at her from the corner of his eye. 

Tawny's get together had been just as eventful as Harry had figured. It was full of wine glasses, "homemade" snacks (she has never learned to throw away her takeout boxes), and bubbling chatter. He learned from Sarah that she and Mitch had started talking about the possibility of babies, Tom and Jenny were going away for a month-long trip to Greece later in the year, and Charlotte was planning on hosting an open mic night at her café (and pleaded with almost everyone to get them to come so it didn't completely flop). He had been little more than (Y/N)'s accessory at times, clasping her hand in his and dutifully following her around as she flounced about and talked to anyone and everyone. He wasn't much in the mood for socializing after shoving down his desires back at her apartment—he would much rather trail behind her, getting an eyeful of her ass and the sway of her hips. 

His mind hadn't drifted far from what he had been desperate to do before having to leave for Tawny's. He was eager to end the night; watching her and giving innocent touches to the small of her back or on her hand weren't enough. It was the worst when she had scooted by him when everyone had migrated to the couch, (Y/N) sidestepping around him as she used his shoulders to steady herself, leaving his face level with the soft of her tummy and just where he knew the line of her panties laid under her shimmering dress. He'd had to collect a throw blanket to drape over his lap afterwards, feigning a want to share with and warm (Y/N) when she settled at his side once again. 

As much as he loved his friends and seeing (Y/N) bubble and chatter among them, by the time the two hour mark approached on their stay, he was ready to get out of there. After a slew of too-long goodbyes and a suspicious glance from Mitch, Harry had his arm around (Y/N)'s waist as they made it out the door. 

That was how he found himself here, not paying enough attention to the road with his pants too tight for comfort. 

"Are you okay? You're being really quiet," (Y/N) murmured by the time they pulled up to her apartment complex, her hand came to rest atop his own. 

He could feel her eyes on him as he steered them towards his unofficial parking spot. "'M alright, sweetheart. Jus' really want to get y'inside." 

Whatever she saw in his darkened gaze had her own features softening, a giddy smile on her lips. "Really?" she chirped, attempting a discreet glance at his lap. 

His lips folded into a lopsided smile as he squeezed her thigh. He leaned across the console, leveling his gaze to hers with a brush of his nose against the bridge of her own. 

"As if you didn't know," he teased, quickly pressing his lips to hers in a deft kiss before he was releasing his hold with a pat to her leg, "Now, c'mon. 'M tired of waiting."

Harry felt a little too smug when she didn't immediately follow, stuck for a moment in her spot with her eyes blown wide. Rounding the bonnet of the car, he met her at her door before she had a chance to push it open. He helped her steady on the asphalt, the point of her heels teetering on the uneven surface. 

Hooking his arm around her waist, he escorted her up the open staircase leading to her apartment. With his mind occupied, thinking about the soft cotton of her panties he had felt up earlier in the night, the trek felt like nothing to him. (Y/N)'s fingers fumbled some as she unlocked her door, surely feeling the weight of his hand on her hip and the heat of his gaze tracing over her profile. 

Stepping over the threshold, (Y/N) turned to Harry as he locked the door behind them, her eyes bright and a bashful smile on her lips. 

"Let me take off my makeup, and ch—" 

Surging forward, Harry used his grip around her waist to press her back into the wall before sealing his lips to hers in an urgent kiss. He was sure she had an idea of what she thought he wanted tonight—another replay of her splayed out on his bed with her legs spread and his cock sinking inside her—but he had a different craving that he doubted she even realized. She melted into his kiss after a lag of surprise, her hands floating up to settle on either side of his jaw. The length of her nails caught on the baby hairs bordering his hairline. 

Parting his lips, Harry deepened the kiss with his tongue swiping out to draw a line along the seam of her mouth. (Y/N) didn't hesitate before matching his intensity, welcoming his tongue inside her mouth with a delicate moan. Slick sounds filled the entryway to her home, matching the parting and meeting of their lips over and over. He didn't care to be particularly composed as he doled out his affection, the twisting of their tongues messy and clumsy with how badly Harry wanted to put his mouth all over her. Every sigh she breathed in his mouth, every drag of her nails through his hair, every heave of her breasts against his chest had him crumbling that much more. 

Trailing his mouth down, smearing his kiss over the curve of her chin to the line of her jaw, Harry followed all the way down the column of her throat. The lower he went, dropping towards the neckline of her dress, he could feel how heated her skin was, chest heaving as she caught her breath through kiss-swollen, saliva-slicked lips. 

He dropped to his knees in front of her, feeling his pulse thrumming as he gazed up at her from his new position. A lopsided smile landed on his lips when he saw the way she looked down at him, instinctively reaching for the curls crowning his head, threading her fingers through the waves. 

"W-We can go to my bedroom, an—" 

Harry shook his head before she could finish. "We're going to stay right here, sweetheart." 

With that, he grabbed one of her ankles and shifted to kneel in front of her. He placed her heeled foot on his bent thigh, working his fingers into the clasp that held the strappy piece around her ankle. Peering up at her through his lashes, he could see how intensely he held her attention doing nothing more than a simple task he'd done for her plenty of times over. A bit of pride had him straightening his shoulders. 

He had her right where he wanted. 

Shucking her shoes off, sending her back to her original height, Harry didn't make any move to get up. Despite the way she tugged at his hair, urging him to stand up and continue with the mess of kisses they had started, Harry stayed right where he was. He could kiss her for the rest of the night if she wanted, but he needed to take care of this first. 

With how hard his cock was in his pants, a blurt of precum having wet the fabric of his briefs, diving between her thighs was going to be more for him than her.

Planting his mouth in a searing kiss on the plush of her thigh, he started a new expedition in adoring the rest of her body he had been so awful to ignore before. Goosebumps raised on her skin as he plucked his teeth against the soft skin. His palms skated up the curve of her legs, following the line of her form just as he had until he was edging under the hem of her dress. He dragged his lips over her thighs, never fully parting from the flesh before he pressed another languid kiss to her skin. 

"Harry," she sighed the call when she felt his nose skim the fluttering edge of her dress, lifting it up with another kiss being placed on the newly-bare skin. 

"Wanna take care of you, pretty girl," he murmured to her, his words dripping over her skin and down the length of her legs, "Always make me feel so good, want to do that for you now. Can I, sweetheart?" 

"A-Are you sure?" she asked, eyes softened and trained only on him. 

His hands plunged under her dress, landing on the waist of her underwear with his fingertips teasing the elastic. More of her thighs were put on display from the lifted fabric, but the front swath hung perfectly over her modesty, concealing her from his eyes despite his best efforts. Harry nosed at where her clit was nestled away out of his sight, feeling her hips tense under his hands. 

"Been thinking about it all week, pretty girl. I think 'm very sure," he grumbled against her, "Y'can't distract me this time." 

Her skin warmed, her pulse bubbling. "I just wasn't sure—you-you've never... before, so." 

Harry shook his head, a frown of disappointment settling on his lips as he gazed up at her. "That's no good, huh. Haven't been very fair of me to not take care of you and eat your pretty pussy out like you deserve—especially since you're always so sweet to me, darling." 

"It's okay," she told him, her bottom lip being plucked between her teeth, "I know you love me." 

Harry's features softened and molded into a tender smile. This time the kiss he dropped on the bare of her thigh was made of nothing but pure affection. "I do love you—very much. Can I show you how much?" 

The eager nod she gave him was the permission he needed before Harry was finally shucking her underwear down her legs. He helped her step out of the fabric before he unceremoniously stuffed them in his pocket. Settling as comfortably as he could on his knees, Harry flicked his gaze up to watch her reaction just before he pushed her dress up.

Her pussy glistened in the light, her lips puffy and soaked. Her fingers in his hair pulsed just before she widened her stance that much more, revealing more of herself to him. While it was far from the first time he'd seen all of her body, this moment felt more charged than any before. 

He truly did feel bad, hearing what she said. He didn't like that she had just assumed she was one of the many that didn't believe in going down on their girlfriend, that it was something he wouldn't even try with her. The assumption was far from the truth and something he planned on banning from her mind after tonight. 

Leaning forward, taking advantage of her spread legs, he planted his lips on the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. "Can't believe I've never tasted you before, love. Y'look so sweet, you know that?" 

"M-Maybe," she answered, her voice a shaky whisper from above, the heat of her gaze following his movements. 

"Maybe?" he teased, skimming his lips that much higher before starting from the beginning on the opposite thigh, "Have you tasted yourself before, pretty?" 

Harry was sure that if he could reach her cheeks, he would have been able to feel the heat bubbling under her skin at his question. "Um, once or twice," she sheepishly admitted. 

His mouth broke into a grin at her admission. His briefs were going to be sporting quite the wet patch if she kept this up. 

"I don't blame you," he mumbled into her skin, reaching the softest part just a breath away from her pussy, "I don't know how y'keep your hands off all day long. I could spend hours right here, darling." 

Inhaling a heavy breath through his nose, he caught the scent of her arousal. He had a hard time dragging his eyelids open afterwards, sinking that much more into the moment. 

Closing that small, teasing distance, Harry offered himself some mercy and planted his lips directly onto her clit. It was a loving kiss, his lips puckered and giving just the way they would have been had he been kissing her mouth. A small yelp left (Y/N)'s lips at the contact, her muscles bunching under his palms. 

Peering up at her through the frame of his lashes, Harry pushed another budding kiss to her clit, this time watching the look on her face. He saw her eyes attempt to close, lashes kissing her cheekbones, with her mouth dropping into a small gape. A pinch appeared between her brows, the same way they always scrunched when she was attempting to concentrate on something. 

The thought had the very corner of his lips plucking into a slight smile. 

After planting a slew of kisses on her clit, feeling her pulse jump against him, Harry dropped his hands from her hips to slide around to the backs of her thighs. His palms cuffed the soft skin, fingertips denting into the gentle curve as he pushed her towards his face, angling her hips just so. Throwing one of her legs over his shoulder, her slit parted to match the splaying of her hips, revealing her flushed sensitivity. Her core was sticky wet, waiting for him. 

(Y/N)'s breath caught at the first spread of his tongue through her slit, matching the rumbling groan that came from his chest. Harry had to fight to keep his eyes from shuttering as he sunk into the moment—into the taste of her on his buds, into the feel of her weight on his shoulder, the pulsing slickness of her opening. Something deep in his stomach was quelled finally after getting his first taste, urging him to indulge more and more now that he finally had what he wanted right in his hands. His fingers pulsed around her thighs, keeping her steady on her feet and pussy presented for him to do as he pleased. 

The flat of his tongue slid through her slit over and over, collecting her wetness and reveling in the heady taste that was her before swallowing. The tip teased her hole, dipping in in hopes and catching more of her taste right from the source. He could feel (Y/N)'s toes curl behind his back, her heel pressing into his spine to urge him into giving more. He smiled around his ministrations as he zigzagged his tongue over her pussy before he focused back on her clit. 

Kissing at the bud, he spoke as best he could without lifting his mouth from her cunt. "Y'taste so good, pretty. Gonna need this every single day now that I've had you," he told her, unsure if this was just dirty talk at the moment. He could imagine a good life where he started every day between her thighs and ended it the same way. His cock jumped in his trousers at the thought. "Can y'give me that, sweetheart? Your pussy every day just for me to have?" 

"Uh-huh, uh-huh," she sounded, her voice a touch shaky as she braced herself with her grip on his shoulders. "Feels re-really good, H." 

Spurred on by her stuttered praise, Harry surged forward, replacing his lips with his tongue now laving over her clit. It was swollen between his lips as he gave placating sucks to the bud, (Y/N) letting out the softest mewls in response. With her thighs trembling under his hands, he dared to think that if he weren't there to prop her up or the wall offering her balance, she would have tumbled down. 

He wanted to give her something worth crumbling for. 

Diving down from her clit, he followed the split of her spread lips until he was tonguing at her opening. Her wetness had spread to the inside of her thighs, his cheeks, and now the tip of his nose as he wagged the flat of his tongue over her folds. It was just as he wanted her, a little messy, a little clumsy as she learned just how it felt to be taken care of by him. 

Pointing his tongue, he jutted his chin against her and thrust his tongue straight inside her pussy. Her fluttering walls clenched around him, welcoming him in as if this was his cock splitting her walls open. Above him, (Y/N) had gone silent. Peeking at her, he saw her jaw slack, eyes closed, and her chest shuddering with a stunted breath. If his mouth wasn't so busy, he wouldn't have been able to hold back the smug curl of his lips. 

Instead, he wriggled his tongue inside her, tracing along the ridges and curves he was so familiar with in another context. (Y/N)'s hands in his hair came alive then, tugging at his roots. He matched her intensity, stroking his tongue in and out of her hole while he used his grip on her thighs to bring her flush to his face. His cheeks were muffed by her warm thighs, chin soaked in her slick, and nose mushed against her clit. 

"H-Harry, fuck," (Y/N) cried, her voice thin, "I-I—oh my god—I—" 

"What do you need, sweetheart?" Harry asked, drawing away just enough to speak against her puffy folds. "I'll give it to you, jus' tell me what." 

She swallowed hard, throat bobbing as she fluttered her gaze to keep in the moment. "Fi-Fingers, please." 

He didn't bother to answer, instead giving into her want in a heartbeat. With the hand cupping the thigh sitting on his shoulder, Harry reached between her legs and stuffed his middle finger inside her fluttering walls. He thrusted through a handful of times before he added his index, (Y/N) keening at the addition with her head thumping against the wall. 

With her shimmery dress still covering her form, every heaving breath, every shudder of her spine, every tensing of her hips was highlighted in the faux-starlight. She was a dream above him, a sheen on her skin, hair pulled back from her face as if she knew he would want to catch every minute expression she made. His own breath came in ragged puffs, but he didn't care much as he attached his mouth to her clit once more. 

He drove his fingers inside her while he sucked her clit between his lips, giving those same laving licks and soft sucks that had her whimpering in the first place. Her hands in his hair were shocked into a tight, unwavering grip. Her thigh over his shoulder shifted until her calf was strapped across his back, urging him closer and closer, toes curling against the material of his shirt. 

He could do this all night, but he had a feeling (Y/N)'s expiration was coming soon. The telltale sign came in the scrunch of her nose, her eyes clamping shut before she forced them open in hopes of catching every detail. 

"Gonna cum for me, pretty?" he mouthed against her clit, feeling (Y/N)'s muscles bunch at the feeling of his voice vibrating around her. 

A small whine crawled its way out of her throat as she nodded, her mouth in nothing more than a gape. 

"Let me have it, sweetheart," he crooned, "Want you to cum on m'face so bad. Been all I could think about for the last week—don't disappoint me." 

There was that trigger he knew too well. She always wanted nothing more than to be the best for him—his best girl, his perfect love, his favorite everything—she would never disappoint him. (Could never, really, as far as Harry was concerned). 

All it took was a brush of Harry's fingers through her fluttering walls and particularly lingering suck of her clit before (Y/N) was crumbling above him. His name left her mouth as if in prayer, adoration and admiration soaking into the syllables. Her back arched from the wall, pushing her hips that much closer to his face. Harry didn't stop, feeling her walls pulse around his fingers, her clit pulsing between his lips. She grew especially wet, leaving him to lap it all up—just as he had wanted in his fantasies.

Aftershocks rained through her body as she came down, her muscles pulsing at every touch he gave her. It wasn't until she let out a particularly pathetic whine, her hands in his hair pushing him off, did he draw away from her. 

"Too much?" he asked, voice hoarse through his swollen lips. 

"Too much," she repeated in a watery voice. 

His mouth and cheeks were soaked, the tip of his nose and chin also glistening in the light. His hands slid down her form, fingers cramping from how tightly he held onto her. (He hoped he both did and didn't leave any bruises on her skin; he hated thinking about her in pain, but also appreciated the thought of his mark on her). 

While (Y/N) caught her breath, Harry helped ease her thigh from his shoulder, steadying her balance without his form propping her up. He fixed her dress despite there being no reason to hide after what they just did, smoothing the fabric over her hips in a soothing touch. 

"Y'alright, love?" he asked, feeling a little breathless himself as he checked in on her. 

"Yeah," she answered simply, her eyes having fluttered shut. 

Harry smiled at her, standing to the full of his height. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he started her towards her bedroom. "Let's get y'cleaned up, yeah?" 

"Yeah," she repeated. Harry's grin grew wider.

With her eyes hooded and movements lethargic, Harry guided her back to her bedroom. Flicking on the light, he deposited her on the edge of her bed. He watched with an affectionate smile as she flopped back into the mattress, arms falling above her head as she stretched out. 

He left her to her quiet soothing as he stepped into her bathroom. Picking a washcloth from her collection under the sink, he wet it before running it across his face to clean up her remaining wetness. Looking at himself in the mirror, Harry could only shake his head. 

His hair was a mess, raspberry lips tinted to that of a red-ripened strawberry. His cheeks were flushed, the blush reaching over the bridge of his nose and down the curve of his neck. Just as he thought, his cock was still impossibly hard in his pants, hiding a drenched spot on the front of his briefs where he had been leaking blurts of precum while tasting his girl. 

Taking the damp flannel, Harry reentered her room to see her just as he left her. She wordlessly opened her thighs for him when he took up a now familiar position on his knees in front of her. 

"Is it alright if I push up your dress again, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice a low croon in the quiet of her bedroom. "Jus' gonna clean you." 

"Okay," she answered simply, lifting her hips some as he pushed up the fluttery hem.

Harry made quick work of wiping up her arousal that had dripped to the inside of her thighs and his saliva that he had spread over her intimacy. When he touched her clit, hoping it would be so fast she wouldn't notice, he earned a small hiss, her legs recoiling to close around his hand. 

"Too much," she reminded him, a pout evident in her voice. 

"'M sorry, sweetheart," he murmured, compounding his words with a small kiss to the cuff of her knee, "Almost done, then we'll get ready for bed. You're tired, right?" 

"Yeah," she sighed. 

He didn't waste much time finishing up, signaling he was done with a swift kiss to her hip before standing to his full height. 

"I'll grab some clothes for y'to change into, then we'll cuddle up. Does that sound good?" he prattled, looking over her as she laid still stretched out. 

"Wait," she stopped him, reaching her arms out for him. Harry didn't hesitate before lacing his fingers between hers, though she didn't stop before she had tugged him into laying beside her on the bed. 

A plume of laughter fell from his lips, matching the dimpled smile molding his swollen lips. "What is it, huh?" 

Disentangling their fingers, (Y/N) instead reached out and looped her arms around his neck. Pulling him in for an innocent kiss, she nudged her nose against his. "Thank you." 

"Sweetheart, that was as much for me as it was for you. Trust me," he laughed, planting another one on her lips. Thinking back to her hesitancy before he had indulged in his fantasy, he kept her close, his expression sobering some. "But, I am sorry I made y'think I wasn't interested in doing anything like that with you. Obviously, that's far from the truth, I jus' never found the right moment, I guess. We always had something more important we wanted to do." 

(Y/N)'s lips plucked into a bashful smile, surely thinking of all the other "important" things they took care of in favor of spreading her thighs open with his head. 

"It's okay," she offered, looking at him with a flutter of her lashes as she dropped her eyes to his mouth, "I'm happy we cleared it up, though." 

"Me too," he murmured, tipping his chin and catching her mouth in another sweet kiss. 

This time (Y/N) deepened it just enough to get a taste of his tongue swiping over hers. There was no doubt she'd get a sample of what was tucked between her thighs, seeing as how Harry could still plainly taste her on his buds. 

"Are you sure you're ready to go to bed?" she asked once she pulled away, shuffling that much closer to him amidst the tufts of her duvet. 

"Did you have other plans?" Harry's gaze scanned over her features, not missing the way she flicked her gaze down, as if hoping she could catch a glimpse of his lap. 

"Well," she started, bright eyes meeting his, "I don't know if it'd be very fair if I was the only one that got to feel good tonight." Scooting closer, she was able to lift her leg to lay over his hip, his hard cock pressing into the inside of her thigh. 

"I think we could postpone sleep, right?" 

Landing his hand on her waist, he pushed her to lay on her back before he laid himself over her. 

She nodded up at him, attempting to bite back her smile. "I think that sounds way more fun."

It was the spark of giddy light in her eyes, the excitement hiding behind her shy smile, that had Harry's heart skipping a beat. 

Staying up with her was much more fun than dreaming.

—————

thank you so much to whoever requested this esp for being so patient! sorry for any mistakes and please share any fun ideas!

[1800titz]

HI. This is the pornstar!AU (Tiger Harry). Enjoy :D

CONTENT/WARNINGS: face-fucking, anal play-ish, Sir kink, general manhandling, light dom-sub dynamics

WC: 8.6K

“Are you open to raw anal?” is probably not a statement Y/N had …entirely expected to hear when she’d agreed to discourse over pastries and dirty chai lattes. 

It’s a pretty good one, all things considered, and asked with complete professionalism, according to their careers and the open, apathetically businesslike expression shaping the features of her counterpart. Y/N takes a sip of her latte. It is quite a good latte. He wasn’t wrong there. 

Harry blinks. 

It’s very on brand, despite the way she’s sure one of the baristas has definitely twisted around from the dishpit, side eye discreet …but there. And in the barista’s defense, she couldn’t even blame her for eavesdropping on the sordid contents of their public discourse. Y/N isn’t going to turn around and look. 

In Harry’s, he didn’t exactly shout. 

The man across from her takes a slow sip from his latte. Good latte, very good latte. 

She can’t help but admire his varying assortment of rings as he cradles the cup, irises winding from the blocky, golden S to its chunky counterpart, the H. So many times she’d admired those hands, those ring-clad fingers traipsing over bare skin, just the tips meddling over abdomens and winding circles around navels. Those digits sunk into the hair of his partner, tangled into the roots as he manually bobs her head over his cock. Those fingers twisting over the pink tip of his shaft, lining it up before his hips pump. Those long fingers splaying over cunts, swiping a thumb to ogle in front of the camera. 

There've been so many instances where Y/N had wondered the significance of that H and that S. And it’s been really quite simple all along.

Should I call you Tiger in person, then? she’d tapped out over the LED keyboard, days prior when they’d only been discussing the prospect of a meet up. Days prior, before she’d flown out for an on-camera collaboration, to bask in the sunlight of California, to enjoy overpriced dirty chai lattes and oddly promiscuous dialogue in the corner of a cafe. 

I think I’ll just take Harry when the cameras aren’t rolling x, RideTheTiger had messaged back. 

Anyways, it’d probably be a sleazy, poorly-executed one liner (and consequently, a horrifically red flag) in possibly every other circumstance, but this isn’t a first date and RideTheTiger has, thus far, been the furthest thing from sleazy. Even paid for her dirty chai latte, practically shouldering her out of the slot at the register. Pulled her chair out for her, asked about her traveling fares prior to delving into said anal topic. It’s all been fairly gentlemanly. Very business-partner-coffee-meeting. 

“No condom,” Harry tacks on, like it’s clarification for the raw segment of raw anal, as if it actually needed some sort of clarification. 

Y/N takes another sip. Damn good latte. 

“I like it,” the young woman tells him, clearing her throat on this edge that implies she’s mindful of her volume. Somehow, even as a freelance pornstar, she still hasn’t quite managed to get over the awkward degree of shame that a public setting incites. “I like the...” 

That barista is definitely fucking peering over.

“…The mess,” she settles on, because anal creampie doesn’t feel like a term to be said with her whole chest over a guava pastelito. 

For a short moment, Harry just watches her, jade roaming and the corners of his mouth slowing seeping into a simper, like he knows brazenly discussing anal creampies in the middle of a cafe — not quite packed, but still a cafe — has her kind of squirming in her seat. He takes another drink. 

“She’s got airpods in,” the man tells her eventually, forest-y irises jolting to something behind her head — the barista that’s clattering about behind the counter. And if she’s listening in, she’s probably going to go home and find one of them online, or ultimately both, and probably subscribe. 

The tension in her shoulders melts away the longer he grins at her over the lip of his lid, dimples indented in the flesh beside the upturned edges of his mouth. It’s just what they do for a living. It’s just sex. It’s just talking about the sex they’re going to have on camera. 

There’s bells and whistles to it, too, but it beats sitting at home and answering phone calls where angry customers screech all tinny through the headset and don’t comprehend the words, “Sir, if you can’t use your inside voice and talk to me like a civilized human being, I’m not going to be able to resolve your issue.” For Y/N it is. At least she gets a couple of orgasms out of this. 

“Sorry,” she tells him, shoulders slumping, “I think I’m still not— I get …weird talking about it in public settings.”

Tiger gives her this careful look over, eyes amused. 

“S’okay, I understand. If you’d rather get into the details back at mine, I’m okay with that.” 

“No, no,” Y/N protests, motioning out with her free hand, almost like her frigidly humiliated disposition will turn him off from collaboration, “No. It’s just, like. Sex work— it’s— it’s 2024. Nothing to be ashamed of.” 

Harry blinks. He gives her another one of those slow, knowing grins with his strawberry mouth. 

“No, seriously. We can get into the …rough drafting in a more private setting.” And then he takes another casual, horribly nonchalant sip, “I get it.” 

The man splays back against the chair, the hand not clutching at his beverage laid against smooth bamboo varnish, the nails there neatly manicured and painted with a soft shade of green lacquer. Y/N wonders what that particular color would look like with a glimmering top coat after he’s sunk the digits in between her thighs. She casts her gaze back up to his face. 

“I just figured I’d ask because we exchanged tests last week.” 

Clean as a whistle, RideTheTiger, (appropriately renamed in her contacts as Harry Tiger OF collab), had messaged on a Tuesday afternoon. That text was tailed with an HDR attachment of paperwork detailing his clean-as-a-whistle results, for proof. And the polish on his nails, fingertips gripped over the edge of the sheet, had been a pretty sky blue in the picture. 

She’d wondered the same thing, then; what OPI’s Rich Girls & Po-boys would look like glazed with a sheen of her slick arousal. 

He’s just a fuckable man, Y/N thinks, sat back in his chair like discussing sex work scene scripting is a normal mid-day affair, soft dusting of stubble coating his jaw, curls swept up off his forehead. His white tee shrouds the swallows and the inky butterfly she’s seen flexing over his tummy, the laurels that seep into the deep cut of his v-line, but it does very, very little to hide the artistry that litters his arm. 

That same arm she’d seen in videos, wrapped in pumped muscle as his fingers had worked his partner to the brink of bliss at a merciless pace, plush mouth shaping over some sort of filthy croon, dimples indented. Those same hands cradling over his counterpart’s throat with a gentle squeeze, that same thumb swiping messily over his partner’s bottom lip. Those same eyebrows with a crease carved between their furrow, those same curls in sweaty, disheveled disarray from the incessant rake through of his hands as his cock got swallowed up by a pretty, swarthy-skinned brunette, or maybe a blonde. A curl that’d flopped over his forehead in those videos, hardly hiding a rivulet of sweat that’d dripped from his hairline, is neatly tucked back under designer shades, now. 

Designer shades he’s bought with his dirty porn money, because despite his spiffy, clean boy, seemingly innocuous demeanor, RideTheTiger is dirty, dirty, dirty. 

Because under his warm smiles and his twinkling jade, there’s an alter ego that lives on the internet. One she’s all too familiar with. 

It makes her chest sort of flush under her sweater. This is happening. This is going to happen. 

The chair creaks a little when he sits up, clearing his throat, “I didn’t want to assume, but. I mean— I’m sure you’ve seen, like, my tips. Is it …odd to say I’m a fan of your content?” his gaze slowly settles from his drink to her face, smooth baritone almost …bashful as plush pink splits into a beam and his words catch on a laugh, “Is that …weird?”

Y/N knows exactly what he’s referring to. They’d been two mutuals subscribed to one another, chunks of profit migrating from inbox to inbox. It’d been like a volley, electric currency bouncing through the expanse of the internet, racket to racket, account back to account, pinging notifications striking on uploads behind paywalls. Only then, Tiger was just a man behind a screen. Tiger wasn’t sitting at a table in front of her, and they weren’t discussing the crude elements of the video they were going to shoot together. 

“Not at all,” Y/N clears her throat and pairs it with a side-to-side shake of her head. 

She’ll never admit that she’d touched herself to the solo session that’d popped up in her DM’s behind a paywall only last week, an automated promotion sent out to all subscribers. The one where he’d been sat in one of those lush, swivel-y chairs in front of his computer, firm thighs splayed and ringed hand tugging over his leaky cock. The camera angle was broad enough to capture his eye contact with the lens, the way his front teeth would nip at his bottom lip, the way the column of his straining throat would go on show as he’d tipped his head back with a groan. 

She blinks, staring ahead as she remembers the way cum had painted all the way up over the panting butterfly. Harry grins from across the table. She half-expects him to brazenly admit he’s done the same to her content. So far, she’s concluded that he’s quite unashamed. 

“Makes it easier to fuck, right?” Y/N says, beating him to the punchline. 

He makes this face then, tipping his head, eyes widening and blinking playfully, mouth curling like he’s appalled by her brazen admission in said public setting. Before the young woman can get flustered by his teasing, he sits back and lets his features relax into something soft.

“Yeah. It does.” 

Harry doesn’t tell Y/N she should wear a plug on the day that they calendar in for shooting. Not while they’re in the cafe. In fact, he waits three whole hours until the very precise moment where she’s using her apple pay at a drive through for the notification banner to swipe down. 

When Y/N steps into his entryway, there’s a wilting cactus stemming from a ceramic basin next to a bowl of keys and varying knick knacks. There’s a pair of dice in there, too. 

“This is Tim,” Harry introduces, unprompted, motioning to the withering plant in passing. 

Y/N nudges with her chin like a sort of acknowledgement, tailing him through the hallway, where a neat array of three framed, abstractly artistic renditions of Kama Sutra positions line the segue. She’s half convinced that the doggy one follows her movement like one of those oddly unsettling renaissance portraits. 

“Very nice.”

It’s a Thursday, and they’ve determined today to be the day that they collaborate. She’s wearing the plug, and she tries to ignore the anticipation curdling in the pits of her tummy as she tails him to the lounge. 

“I think I overwatered him, honestly,” Harry tells her, aimed over his shoulder, “but I can’t bear to part with him.” 

He’s wearing gray sweats, and he’s definitely opted to go commando, if the imprint of his dick when he pivots to face her is anything to go off of (though, whether he’s ditched underwear for the sake of the shoot or solely for comfort, Y/N isn’t sure). All she’s really, actually sure of is that she urgently needs to unglue her eyes from the outline of his cock. 

“D’you want a drink or anything? I mean, I don’t like to do any alcohol before shoots, but if you want, I have seltzers in my fridge.” 

He’s all soft attire — the sweats and bare feet padding over tile, curls a little mussed and swept back. A white tee coats his torso with a cartoonish bee in the center. The words ENJOY HEALTH, EAT YOUR HONEY circle the little piece of outlined artwork in blue. His nails are still green. 

Y/N clears her throat. “Do you have water?” 

“F’course.” 

The kitchen is beside the lounge, and he tells her, as he makes his way over and opens a cabinet to cull a glass, “You can have a seat if you’d like. Figured we’d get the details down before we start filming.” 

His couch is an onyx leather, its form like one of those fancy ones from a 1970s inspired catalog. Y/N sinks into the cushion. She crosses her legs. Uncrosses them. Behind her, the fridge whirs in the kitchen as the water pours into the glass. She’s admiring his fireplace when he stretches the beverage out to her.

“What are we feeling today?” the man winds around to the bend of the sectional, flopping back against the cushions with a sigh as his cotton-clad thighs splay, “…Slow and romantic? Something a little more rough?” 

“Used and abused,” Y/N responds, surprised she manages to keep her cadence as even and nonchalant as she does. The second the statement escapes her, though, she takes a long sip from her glass and hides her simper behind it. 

“Used and abused,” Harry parrots, sitting up a tad as his hands seek new homage from their priorly relaxed splay over the back of the couch. His palms smooth down the fronts of his thighs, instead, and he gives her this little grin; something mischievous that lets his dimples wink alive. “I think I can work with that.”

Yes. She’s certain he can, based on his track record of deviously, deliciously rough content. Three weeks ago she watched a video where his partner was laid out on a table, duck-taped limb to limb, and Y/N had watched his hand — rings removed — roam her body with such delicacy as he drove forward into her. It was all up until the point where the same hand had snaked up around her throat, and then he’d brought it back and smacked her right across the side of her unsuspecting face. It’d sent his partner’s head snapping to the side, and a wave of heat riding through Y/N, coursing through her blood as she’d flipped the vibrator between her thighs to a higher setting. 

Yeah. He can work with that. 

“Since we’re going with that route,” Y/N blinks out from the fog of memoirs circling back to Tiger’s hands exploring and pinching and delivering blows. 

Tiger is much more subdued in this setting. 

“Let’s talk things you’re into, things you’re not so into.” 

The young woman gnaws into her cheek to bridle her grin. “Um. Anal’s a go. Obviously.”

Harry nods, mouth friendly, “Okay.” 

Y/N deliberates. She takes another sip. Harry waits patiently. His green bores into her, and the young woman rolls her lips into her mouth, pupils climbing up to the ceiling as she contemplates. She cocks her head.  

“…Face-fucking. That’s nice. I like dirty talk. I like getting my hair pulled. I like a little bit of pain. You know, like. Spanking. Face slapping, but not, like,” the edges of her mouth cave up, “MMA level—“

The joke culls a huff of soft laughter from him. He nods. 

“Just. General manhandling is good with me,” Y/N tells him. 

Harry nods, his fingers interlocked over his spread knees, and then he sits up a tad. 

“Alright. If we’re going with face fucking, I’m a fan of the trusty tap-tap-tap,” he tells her, motioning with his left palm and patting over his thigh in a series of three as he speaks, “If it ever gets to be too much and you can’t say it, just tap three times, yeah? Just like this.”

Y/N nods. She takes another sip. For a moment, Tiger still has his forearms braced over his lap, but then he sits up a little more. 

“And then when you can say, if anything’s uncomfortable, if you want me to do anything different, just let me know. Doesn’t matter if the camera’s on.” 

Y/N crosses her ankles. She uncrosses them.

“S’all about authenticity. Y’know,” his tongue peeks out to swipe over the plush of his bottom lip, “I don’t wanna be throwing you against the wall or choking you if it doesn’t feel good, even if it looks good on camera. If you’re a clit girl, we’ll play with your clit—“

Her thighs press together.

“If you’re a g-spot girl, we’ll focus on the g-spot.”

She swallows. 

“The throwing against the wall and the choking,” Y/N doesn’t bother hiding her simper as it grows, “Those are good with me, too. And— clit stuff. Yeah.” 

Tiger is hot. Fire hot, like lava coursing and bubbling over rigid stone, even in his soft attire with his soft curls and his soft smiles. He’s got these eyes that feel like they bore through her clothes, but it’s not in an uncomfortably hungry way. 

“What do you… what should I call you during the shoot?” 

His strawberry mouth curls a little. 

“I hear Tiger a lot. M’fine with whatever besides Harry on camera. …If you wanna get a little more into roles we can do Sir. But s’all up to you.” 

It feels like he’s just got this effect — this intense gaze that makes her tummy swirl. It’s not innately an odd shift, going from this entirely professional discourse to soft touches roaming up her sides once they’re in the bedroom. 

It’s the setting for their shoot, and she finds that he’s already got a camera set up on his dresser. One of those that opens up and has a little screen piece that swivels to show what’s currently recording. Harry trails over to it, toggles with the little screen, and, she assumes, begins recording. 

There’s a shag rug by the bed in cream. Y/N eyes it as Harry tugs his shirt over his head, as he makes his way over. Tiger is fire hot, but his touch skims her arm like testing the waters at first. His palms cups her face, the pads of his fingers grazing the sides of her neck, close to her nape, and then his cushiony mouth finds her own. That’s testing at first, too. It’s not a chaste, innocent first kiss by any means, but his mouth is gentle, at first. His hands aren’t hard, and his mouth slots against her own with a kind of tenderness. When her fingers tease up at his waistband, fingering at a warm line of skin between his sweats and his t-shirt, his mouth morphs hungrier. 

“Just—“ Y/N manages between searing kisses as his fingers work the seams of her shirt apart through button-work, “—-jumping right into it, huh?” It’s probably not the sexiest thing to say from the get go of the camera rolling, but she’s honestly still got bits of nerves coiling up in her. This is RideTheTiger. This is happening. She’s going to fuck RideTheTiger. 

Another short kiss, this one she can feel the cushiony pink of his mouth curving up into. 

“Sorry,” Harry amends against her mouth, lips ghosting wetly against her cupid's bow, and the word sounds sort of amused.

And then he’s manually spinning her and marching her over to the dresser, where the camera is set up, her stumbling, rushed gait steadied by the firm press of his thighs from behind as he walks her, colossal hands cupped over her arms. 

“This—” he starts, an introduction blatantly made for the lens, and her pulse stutters when his palm slides up and across and cups over her throat warmly — not quite squeezing, but just there. His other hand explores the expanse of her silhouette from the waist down, pads of his fingers roaming over her tummy, “—is the infamously naughty Birdie.” 

Her veins thrum with something, something hot when the ringed digits traipse to the button of her jeans, just looming over. 

“Can I take these off?” Harry murmurs against the shell of her ear. The tips of his curls tickle at her temple, and she knows he asks it low enough that it’s meant for her. She knows the camera will pick up on it anyways, too. 

“Yeah,” the agreement falls out meshed with an exhale, and her head tips back against his shoulder as his fingers do deft, impressively one-handed work at quick discarding. 

The other hand fondles at one of her tits, only covered with fabric for so long before he takes advantage of the opening he’d made along the line of buttons, pulling at one side for the pink polka-dotted cup of her bra to come out on display. This is all very pro-level disrobing. Y/N decides that when Harry multi-tasks, popping the button of her denim through, pinching at the zipper and tugging down, all still with his other hand caressing over padded flesh at her chest. Ultimately, though, both hands make their way to her hips, and his digits wriggle under either side of her waist band to strip her jeans off, until they rest at about an immobilizing mid-thigh, with an unceremonious yank. 

“I’m Tiger,” Harry talks again, finally, after what’d been a silent moment of apparent concentration, his chin ducked into the nook where her shoulder and her neck meet. 

The man’s fingers toy up under the hem of Y/N’s shirt, wandering over a bare sliver of skin between the top and the line of her panties before they climb the buttoned suture and make work there. 

A chill rolls down her spinal cord, stemming all the way from the nape of her neck, the back and underside of her skull, when Harry declares, almost like she’s not even there, his voice a low and heady baritone, “But, she’s going to call me Sir, and we’re gonna play a little rough with her today, because that’s what she asked for.” 

He’s mid her panting ribcage when the tone in his dialogue switches. It melts from sultry and low to something mirthy when the man sighs and huffs against her neck, like the rounded latches are a long-time nemesis, “Buttons, buttons, so many buttons.” 

Y/N can’t curb the surprised laugh that bubbles from her in response. Her hands rise from her sides (where they’d prior been pretty glued, mostly out of awe and the raw sort of submission manhandling incites), and her forearms brush against his own warm skin as the pads of her fingers shakily work over the stitch he’s on. Harry makes an amused sound into her skin as the corners of her mouth curl up. 

This is real. These are the real moments, the ones that she’s ogled so many times from the other side of the screen, caught on camera mid an otherwise entrancing, perfectly choreographed session of picture-perfect fucking. Like the one where he’d spit and it hadn’t landed where he’d wanted it to, or the one where his partner had spent so long in an angle with her hair over her face and his palm cupped over her mouth, that by the time he’d let up she was spitting out stray hair that’d sunk in past her lips, like a cat with a hairball. Soft laughter had bloomed from the both of them when recognition had dawned, and he’d fingered over her tongue to help her as they’d switched positions. It makes sense why Harry never seems to edit those moments out. 

Authenticity. 

Y/N hopes he doesn’t cut this fragment of the video out. 

“Sorry,” the young woman tells him, her voice garbled with giggles. 

His hands snake up from under her own and they’re the one to pop the final button through. A chilly ring brushes the inside of her wrist. The top separates. 

“There we go,” Harry says, tone colored with enthusiasm, and the way his fingers grip up under the cups of her bra, four for each, and tug abruptly, letting them rest under her freshly-bared tits, kind of, sort of gives her whiplash. 

“Teamwork,” his thumbs slip under either side of her underwear and slink those down until just enough is showing for the eye of the lens. 

Her gaze flits to the viewfinder, and the little icon of her denuded silhouette, pressed up against his chest, one swarthy, inked arm tucked over her ribcage and the sight of his other, ringed digits skimming lower, down her tummy, has her squirming in his grasp. Harry sponges kisses to the side of her neck, and then those ring-clad fingers slide between her legs. Every melty muscle in his arms grows wide awake and tensed like fucking stone. It’s only for a second, before he draws his index and his middle digit, splayed into a blissful V, across either side of her clit. That’s when she liquefies like putty in his hands again, humming softly. 

“…And we’re gonna play with her arse,” Harry tacks on for the camera, almost like it’s an offhand afterthought and not the entire basis of the scene they’ve etched out. 

Y/N laughs, but it melts off into something soft and whimpery when the V lingers and drags. 

“Would you like that?” Harry murmurs, nose tucked into her hair — another comment where the volume implies that it’s obviously meant to be shared between just the two of them — his mouth ghosting over her earlobe and his hand climbing up the ridges of her ribcage like a ladder, “Hm? You want me to play with you there?” 

When his palm expands to rest over the gap between the caging of bone, the space extends out on a breath and she rocks in his touch, hips rolling back subtly. “Mhm.” 

It’s not something he fails to pick up on. The pads of his fingertips expertly toggle at the clasp of her bra — honestly, she’s ludicrously impressed, not only by his keen recognition of the frontal clasp, but this seemingly innate, deft ability to discard clothing pieces with one hand. The straps relax and slip down her shoulders the second the cups fall free and apart. 

“Mhm?” Harry mimics; a low, teasing hum. Y/N thinks then, that this little, patronizing repetition thing he’s got going on could be categorized as a kink in and of itself. 

The palm that’d settled over her diaphragm slinks up to grope at one of her tits. 

It’s kind of game over from there. 

There’s something hard and solid digging into the small of her back, and the longer he spends fondling between her thighs, the longer he spends swiping his thumb over her nipple, the more heat teems to her core, like a glowing warmth that seeps and pulses. The more sure Y/N becomes that his fingertips are definitely culling that top coat she’d pictured all along, enhancing the color there with glinting excitement. 

“There’s a good girl,” Harry purrs when her legs spread a smidge more in response, despite the way they’re nearly glued together with the immobilizing squeeze of her waistband resting mid-thigh. 

The tip of his nose burrows into her hair and grazes at the skin on the side of her neck when his head ducks, fingers sneaking further until the pads press to explore where she’s gushing. His index and his thumb work in tandem to pinch at a nipple and tug. 

And then his tongue licks a practically searing stripe right beside her jugular, and his words send air over wet skin to soothe the flame, “…Getting my fingers all wet, aren’t you?” 

Gameovergameovergameovergameover.

Shelosesshelosesshelosessheloses.

Another burst of air over the wet skin, the soft creak of a chuckle — that’s what reminds her that she’s definitely not breathing. 

Fuck. Y/N sucks in air with a chest tensed like metal armor. His teeth nip over her earlobe. 

And then RideTheTiger slides his slick fingers out from between her legs, coaxing (when she sags in his grip like a marionette that’s had its strings snipped), “Why don’t you give them a little spin and show them the pretty plug you’ve been wearing for me, pet.”

Touch, touch, touch. When Y/N pivots for him, turning her backside to the camera, his mouth brushes the crest of her cheekbone. His warm pecs go flush with her own chest, his palms settle on her love handles and the insides of his rings stipple chills to combat the heat of flesh on flesh. He sponges a kiss to her throat when the young woman throws a glance back to the little screen and shakily presses her palms to the globes of her backside, pulling the flesh there apart to show off the pretty end, silicone petals cradling the shape of a rose. 

That’s when he kneels, cheek pressed to the side of her thigh, when he casts his gaze to the plug with that telltale furrow to his brow bone that she’s seen caught on camera so many times. That’s when his teeth burrow into the pillow of his bottom lip, when he brushes a nearly tentative touch over the plug with the tips of his fingers. That’s when Harry nudges at it and jade bounces from the pallid pink plastic to the shape of her jawline tensing above in response, mouth growing mirthy. 

Nothing prepares her for the way he praises, almost like he’s in awe (and nearly too low for the camera to catch), “So pretty.”

A crease works in between her own eyebrows when his index and his thumb pinch over the plug and twist. And then he lays his thumb over the base and pushes, lightly, as if it can go any further. He draws the pad of his index over the hilt of the plug almost thoughtfully, and then tap-taps in a pair of two that makes her roll her lips into her mouth

“Don’t move,” Harry instructs, after a moment, sneaky, devious fingertips withdrawing altogether. She’s holding her breath again. Y/N readjusts her grip. 

“Just like that,” comes his croon from below, undeniably heady and entirely responsible for the warmth churning between her thighs, “…Just like that, little bird. Show it off, baby.” 

Little bird hits her like a fucking freight train. 

It’s just a play on words, a moniker he’s melded from her stage name, her online personality. It’s been all of, maybe, six minutes — a generous consideration for the timeframe — and he’s already managed to morph her porno pseudonym into a pet name with his soft murmur. 

She’s so focused on the ironic way that such a delicate thing off his tongue makes something so violently carnal stir within her that the young woman doesn’t even notice that he’s been sat near her thighs for a solid second, unspeaking and untouching, besides the paste of his warm cheek beside the press of her hands. 

It’s a suspiciously mischievous sort of silence, but Tiger is no secret-keeper, not when he pats over the back of her leg, a one-tap gesture, and rises to announce, one third amused and two-thirds smug, “Thumbnail.”

The admission is so crude and unexpected that it draws a peal of sputtering laughter from her, feigned indignation meshing with mirth as he rises from the floor, all cocky with an unfairly alluring curl that’s strayed from the rest and flopped to lay over his forehead. 

“You want to use my ass as your thumbnail?” 

Muted raspberry breaks its relaxed line to curve up, obviously self-satisfied and obviously unashamed. Y/N doesn’t think she’ll ever quite keep up with the casual nature of Harry’s mannerisms, not when he hums and his grin splits further, twisting around her to daub her jaw with a kiss.

“…And not my pretty face?” Y/N blinks.

“Last I checked—'' Harry tells her, fingers raking through her roots and palm cradling at her scalp in a way that coaxes chills to bud and roam down the nape of her neck. The digits twist her hair into a bun until his palm is squeezing at her hair all bunched like a flower blooming in reverse, “—You were here to be used and abused, per your request. Not to ask questions.” 

Despite the way he cranes her neck back with the motion, the way it has her jaw unlatching and a surprised exhale full of want escaping, despite the way he drags his teeth down her neck in a line, nipping, Y/N manages to keep her voice impressively even. 

“You don’t want my pretty face painted with your cum as the thumbnail?” she baits, throat bobbing on a swallow. 

He bites. 

At first, his lashline narrows a smidge in obvious inkling that the brazen words have affected him, but then he tips his head and his smug beam morphs more sluggish, more pleased than amused. 

“You want my cum painting your pretty face?” 

“Mm,” Y/N hums in agreement when he turns her head to paste a kiss to the corner of her mouth. 

“Yeah? That’s what you want?” 

His tone is suggestive as he manhandles her over onto the fuzzy rug she’d admired before things got all murky with arousal and …cinematic. Y/N twists in his grasp until he’s nudging her onto her knees with his hands. 

And his voice is low, easy like a sigh, each note interlaced with nonchalance and seemingly effortless power, “Let’s see how good you suck cock.”

Before Harry shoves his waistband down, though, he stuffs a hand into his pocket and culls his phone. He gives her this look down from behind it, thumb tucked behind gray elastic.  It’s this wordless, expressionless sort of seeking; all good? Y/N nudges with her chin, lashes fluttering. Tiger toggles over the screen one-handed, and her eyes flit to the uneven pull at his sweats — if only for a second — that showcases bare skin and the cut of a V-line on one side. As he nudges the sweats off to rest under his balls, the phone pings. It’s the sound of a notification — he’s recording. 

His dick is pretty. Pretty in pink with a prominent vein on the underside and a soft dusting of neatly trimmed, dark pubic hair over his pelvic bone that his happy trail had foreshadowed, and his tip is a ruddy shade that matches the tint of his mouth. She’s seen his cock before, obviously, but ogling it in person rather than as a conglomeration of pixels is a different sort of experience. He’s always looked big on screen, the sheer size of him with a fist over his shaft always implying it. But he’s big. Big enough for two of her hands to cradle over his cock comfortably with the head peeking out from her grip, digits never quite meeting in the middle. Y/N spits into a palm before wrapping it over his shaft, eyes flickering up front under her lashes to meet the lens of the camera. 

“You’re so big,” the young woman admits after a moment, irises bouncing from her grip to the phone looming over, and she drags her tongue over her other palm to cup over him with two like it’s proof. 

And Harry strokes over the side of her scalp, almost like he’s wordlessly scratching a dog’s ears in praise, a soft, pleased huff escaping through his nostrils and his lips shaping over a smug sort of beam that never really unseals. 

Almost tentatively, with her eyes still bouncing from the lens to his cock and back, Y/N leans forward and drags his tip over her tongue. Harry sighs in response, fingertips still hovering at her roots. She purses her lips and lets saliva dribble from her mouth onto his head messily, swiping over the wetness with her thumb, and then she strokes down his shaft with two hands as she wraps her lips over him and draws a circle with her tongue. The subtle, although sharp, inhale she earns in response to the motion has her batting her lashes up at the camera.  

“You’re not shy at all, are you? Not in front of the camera,” Harry says after a moment. 

He’s so obviously bridling a hiss when she drags her tongue up under his leaky tip, his front teeth lodging into the pillow of his bottom lip and brows furrowing. Despite the phone cradled over her face, the young woman still has enough room to observe his. Y/N bats her lashes coyly, pupils flitting back to the camera as her mouth opens to showcase the view of her hands working in gentle twists while she drags his cockhead over her tastebuds. 

“…No, you’re not that shy, little girl that you were in the cafe at all.”

She seals her lips over his tip, hollows her cheeks, and hums. 

“…All prim and proper,” the fingertips that’d scraped over the side of her scalp trail to the back of her head, “…Didn’t even wanna say you liked cum dripping out of you. Didn’t wanna let everyone know that you’re a little anal whore.” 

The words coax her to clench over the plug. 

“…S’okay, baby,” Harry tells her after a moment, “I like that you’re a whore on camera for me,”and then the hand that’d cradled over the back of her skull encourages her own palm to slowly unwrap and fall away as he curls it over his shaft to guide it’s aim. 

Y/N pulls off, and Tiger smears the tip over her spit-slicked, swollen mouth. It parts, and Harry traces over the open seam of her lips like he’s applying lip gloss. 

“Please,” the young woman says, mouthing over his tip, almost inaudible. 

“Hm?” 

“Please,” Y/N repeats, and the drag of his tip slides over her bottom lip on the s. 

Harry inhales from above. He doesn’t immediately give her what she wants, instead opting to draw over her cupid’s bow as he tips his head, voice quiet and still somehow full of a dominant edge. “So polite. You wanna taste more of my cock?” 

The young woman nods, eyes tipped up, and he smears his cockhead over her mouth again. Harry’s teeth nudge into the plush of his bottom lip before he directs, “Stick your tongue out for me. I’ll give you a little taste.” 

And he does. He grazes her tongue with it the moment it’s on show, basking in her soft breaths puffing out against him and the sweet sight of her gaze, unwavering. 

“S’that good?” Harry asks, mouth curling at the (currently) brazenly lewd young woman at his feet, “What you wanted?” 

And she just nods up at him. Despite the way she wants more, the way she wants to close her lips around him and keep twisting her grasp to watch his seams split in ecstacy, Y/N motions lightly with her head. A little sound escapes the back of her throat when he drags the tip of his cock back over her top lip and sighs. 

“You really are such a little whore, aren’t you?” Harry says, tracing along the open seam of her lips with the tip and dragging it over her tongue again, “Give me a pretty smile. Show me just how much you like it.“ 

His words melt off into a rumbly hum when, as he draws over the border of her bottom lip and takes his cock off her tongue, her pretty teeth slowly seep shut and the corners of her mouth form something absolutely overjoyed. Her head cocks, and she grins up at him. All innocuous too, if it weren’t for the head of a cock smearing over the edges of her smile. His thumb slinks out from the hold he’s got over his dick to graze with the pad at the shiny white of her top teeth. 

“Good girl.”

Somewhere around there is when her teeth part and his thumb mingles onto her tongue. Then, the young woman wraps her lips over the digit and sucks. The tension of her cheeks hollowing over his finger in the silence is cut short with a ping — Harry turns the camera off and flings the phone somewhere in the direction of the bed. There’s no definitive thump behind her, so Y/N assumes the man makes it. She hums and pulls off of the digit with a pop and a giggle. 

Dimples pluck alive beside his smile. “Something funny?” 

“No,” the young woman clears her throat, the apples of her cheeks still emphasized and round with her apparent amusement, “Nothing. It’s just.” She blinks up at him, “…Surreal, sort of. Your dick’s just as pretty in person as it is on camera.”

Tiger cocks his head and swipes over her bottom lip with the tip of said dick. She’s quite good at stroking his ego. 

“Thanks. That’s sweet, darling.”  

A furrow works between his brows as her tongue peeks out to daub at the lingering head. “You watch a lot of my videos?” 

And the admission comes almost hungry, with no remorse, “Mm. Touch myself to them.” 

That’s when his brows crease more, when heat swells down through the trench of his tummy and teems up the underside of his balls, where they drive taut at the words. 

“Christ.”

Blown jade bouncing from her lips to the contact of her own eyes and back. Eventually, he swallows and directs, “Tongue out.” 

When she displays it for him, jaw wide, those shambles splinters of composure seemingly fuse. The Harry that emerges nearly gives her whiplash. 

“You touch yourself to my videos?” Harry coos, and the words are coated with so much condescension that Y/N is sure she’d be humiliated in any other circumstance. 

Her tongue twitches under his cockhead. The man looming over swipes that same, leaky tip over her taste buds, and his grin broadens into something like a borderline sadistic Cheshire cat. And then he’s leaning over a smidge, cock still angled over her outstretched tongue, opposite hand fondling under that, at her jaw, and squeezing at her cheeks. 

“That is so—“ emphasizing the words with the slap of his tip against her tongue, Harry grits out, “—fucking—“ another tap that has her uselessly lolled tongue jolting and a garbled little sound wresting from the back of her throat, “—cute.”

Y/N blinks up at him, one hand uncurling slowly and falling away as he nudges the back of her head to swallow more of him in past her lips. 

“Why don’t you use that hand and play with your little clit for me? The way you do when you’re watching me.” 

She makes a muffled noise around him as he sinks in further, and her hand traipses between her poorly, poorly splayed thighs. 

“That’s it,” Harry murmurs, though whether the praise is directed at the way the tips of her fingers pry between her legs or the way she blinks wetly over his cock as she takes more of him into her mouth, Y/N is unsure. “There’s a good girl. Look at me— yeah. Fuck.” 

He holds onto either side of her head, long fingers splaying over her skull, and the young woman splutters when his tip prods at the back of her throat and teases at her gag reflex. The tip of her nose grazes his happy trail, so all in all, it’s a solid effort in one go. Harry holds her there for a moment, relishing in the squeeze of her throat over him as she fights sputtering more, and a throaty groan rips from his vocal chords before his fingers tangle into her hair. That’s when he yanks her off. 

Her chest is already rolling in pants, and the way his palm collides with the fleshy area of her cheek nearly launches her lightheaded headspace into overload. The blow isn’t loud, and it doesn’t really hurt, but he does it a second time, palm grazing over the same fragment of skin. It’s the hand that doesn’t have any rings, and Y/N’s mouth curls up in borderline delirious bliss, teeth unsealed and lips swollen and saliva-daubed. Tiger coaxes a moan when he goes for it a third time. But this time, his hand snakes to palm over the column of her throat and squeeze.

“Fuck, you’re filthy,” Harry tells her, thumb cruising over an inch of skin, “Such a slut for it.”

Her pulse thunders under his grasp. It’s almost like his touch pries the nearly animalistic giggle off her lips. She’s still beaming open-mouthed, and her voice is raw when she beckons, “Yeah—“

And then there’s a ragged gasp and subdued sort of gag, coated with surprise, when Tiger nudges her face forward and unceremoniously shoves his dick back down her throat, his brows pinched.  

“Get that mouth back on my cock.” 

Her hands find his thighs, just wavering over them, curling and unflexing as her eyes squeeze shut. 

“Don’t close your eyes. Look up at me. Look up at me— there you go,” Harry cooes when, despite every instinct that coaxes every muscle in her face to clench and tense, Y/N follows his directions and blinks up at him through a watery sheen. “Shit.”

And then he’s hauling her off and she’s gasping for breath, only for a short moment before he slides back past her jaw until her chin is flush with his sac and he’s pulsing in the warm confines of her mouth. Her lashes flutter. A devious kind of laugh bubbles from him, breathy, and low, and short when the heels of her palms press into the sturdy muscle beneath his laurels. Except this time he doesn’t yank her all the way off for a third time. He holds her there for a second, swearing softly at the view, and then tugs her off until his tip’s on her tongue and pumps back in. It’s a subtle motion — testing, like he’s observing her reaction, really assessing her comfort levels with this. He does it a few more times, as gentle of a motion as it really can be until she squints her eyes shut and muzzles a cough, blinking up at him rapidly through the blur. 

Harry swipes a thumb under her eye, where a rivulet leaks, praising almost in a whisper as she practically vibrates at his feet, “That’s it.” 

Another second to gasp in air, and then he’s fucking her mouth, brushing her gag reflex with every drive forward and every pump out. Y/N sort of loses herself in it — in the fingertips burrowing into her roots, in the huffs and groans that escape him, in the warm muscle beneath her touch, in the way his dick slides down her throat. It’s quite nice. RideTheTiger is fucking her mouth, and it’s nice.

“Look at you,” Harry hums after a while, the hold on the back of her head firm, and she blinks at him all teary-eyed, gagging around him as her chin presses flush with his balls. “So sloppy. Made my nice joggers all wet.” 

Drool pools down her chin, and strings of it dangle from his balls and sully the fabric further. She bats her lashes up at him, and tears slink off from her waterline. Her fingers flex and relax over his thigh, never quite loosening the tension there fully. The man swipes the thumb on his free hand under her eye, where inky black has smudged off from her lashes, and the lewd, left corner of his mouth tips up lopsidedly. 

“You’re such a pretty girl when you’re making a mess,” and then, to nail the demeaning compliment home with the most heady, joyfully smug tone, “Yes you are, little bird.”

His sluggish grin morphs into a borderline pornographic lip-bite then, and he cranes his neck back with a throaty hum, fingers tensing and relaxing, before his digits ultimately tighten in her hair and coax the young woman off. She coughs like she hasn’t breathed in ages, 

Y/N doesn’t know how she gets up to her feet. It’s a lightheaded clamber, coaxed by Harry’s fingers tugging at her hair, his hand on her arm, his definitive, “Get up.” Somehow, though, she manages, despite the fact that her jeans are still half-on, and Harry steadies her and makes her dizzy all at once when his mouth presses hungrily to hers. One hand cradles the side of her neck and the other braces her at the hip. It’s a heated kiss, like Tiger doesn’t mind that her chin is coated with spit, or that the same spit smears over his own jaw as their mouths connect. Y/N nearly trips over her own feet as he walks her, backwards, into the general direction of the bed. The mattress meets the backs of her knees and his hand (which has, since settling on her hip, mingled up her side and cupped over one of her tits) sends her toppling back against the sheets. Harry nearly snickers at her look of indignation. Instead though, he tucks his fingers up under her half-down denim and tugs until her pants are off and she finally, finally has the ability to spread her legs. He tosses those onto the rug, and Y/N watches Harry finish disrobing, kicking the gray sweats into a rumpled pile beside her jeans. 

The camera is still rolling on the dresser, and it’ll keep rolling. It’ll keep rolling when he sinks his face between her thighs, it’ll keep rolling when he pulls the plug out and nudges his fingers in, when he slips his cock into her cunt and then, eventually, switches to her other hole. Or maybe it’ll go in an all different order. Tiger cradles her by the hips and repositions her roughly. The lens doesn’t catch the way she’s all shimmery between her legs with want from its angle, but Harry does, eyes glued there as his fingertips trail featherlight up her thigh and back down. 

A crease works in between his brows like he’s contemplating something, and then he pats the same fragment of flesh he’d been caressing and instructs, “Flip over.” 

Y/N tips over to her side and then rolls onto her tummy, but when she clambers onto her hands and knees Harry beckons, “Where are you going, little bird?” He sighs, warm palm grasping over her ankle and yanking her back towards the edge of the bed, just until Y/N is splayed and forced to shimmy her way back into a pretty arch. “Hm?” 

His hand is still gripped over the joint when the other climbs up the back of her naked thigh, skin on skin petting softly there. “Where are you going, little girl?”  

She’s going to implode. She nearly does when his colossal palms cup either cheek of her backside and spread. He hums like he’s pleased. 

“Which hole should I fuck first…” Harry ponders aloud from behind, but it all feels sort of rhetorical when he nudges over her tightest, little hole, pressing like he’s teasing a breach with the tip of his digit. 

She thinks he must be using his other hand, too, because the pad of his thumb drives a circle over her puffy, spit-slicked clit. The ring of muscle flutters. 

“…Hm?”

[jarofstyles]

Caught

Heyyyy.... This is something I wrote all in one night and it got filthy quick lol. I've been trying to do more one offs and I hope you guys like this one!!

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WC- 9.1k

Warnings- Sex w someone who isn't Y/N (It's quick don't worry), friends to lovers, angst, unprotected sex, spitting, praise kink

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Y/N hadn’t thought twice about going into the living room she shared with her roommate, AirPods in her ear as she had padded across the hall. Maybe if she had been aware of her surroundings, maybe if she hadn’t assumed Harry would figure out she was home by her keys on the rack or her text prior, she would have avoided walking into the scene of filth she found herself stumbling in on. 

Strolling into the living room, she was stopped cold by the scene in front of her. There, on their couch, was Harry. Fully naked, his back red with what would be scratch marks in the morning, thrusting into someone. A woman, by the sound of the whimpers. Manicured nails gripped his biceps as she whimpered, the sound of sex becoming evident as she ripped the AirPod from her ear. 

She was frozen. Standing there shocked, hearing his grunts as his hand steadied him on the back of the couch with his fingers denting the fabric, his powerful thrusts jolting the girl and the furniture. He was into it, fully. As much as she felt she was intruding, she couldn’t stop looking. 

It was hot. Y/N had to admit that, even in her frozen shocked state. The mix of their sounds, her red hair spilling over onto the pillow, her leg being held up by one of his hands to get, what was most likely, the perfect angle. Just by the sound of it, the pair was having an incredible time. 

“Fuckin’ taking it so well..” His raspy voice was deep, a depth she hadn’t heard the fullness of. It sent tingles down her body, hearing her roommate and seeing him in a way she hadn’t before. He had always been sweet and goofy and silly. He joked around about getting lucky, she heard some lighthearted sex stories and had he was a master at dirty jokes- but she had never seen him in the element. Assuming most people didn’t see their friends like that. 

Y/N didn’t harbor any feelings, not that she knew of. She wasn’t hurt by the viewing, no, more so fascinated and embarrassed because she had caught them. But they seemed far too into it to notice her. That itself got her hot between her thighs. 

Harry seemingly hadn’t been lying about his skill in the bedroom. She thought he had been exaggerating, but the way the girl under him was wailing seemed to have her thinking different. 

“Fuck me.” The girl’s voice sounded weak, red nails tangling in his hair and pulling him down. The sound of lips coming together for a kiss echoed in the room, his pace slowing and his hips grinding into her, making the redhead moan and arch her leg up over his hip to pull him closer. The weak whine was wistful, the pop of their mouths disconnecting and saucy chuckle from Harry was low as he gripped her jaw. 

“You’re so close. I can feel it.” He spoke close to her mouth. “Wet little cunt’s making a proper mess. Should make you clean it up with your tongue. Filthy little thing.” He grumbled. 

Y/N had sense to slowly back into the hallway, hiding behind the wall- but she still couldn’t look away. It was wrong. So goddamn wrong, but her cunt was hot and wet from simply watching, she wanted to see it all. Just looking at how wet his covered cock had been, stretching the stranger’s cunt out and hearing her whines had her imagining herself in her place. 

Would he choke her? Would he call her filthy? She could only hope. 

Her eyes watched as the girl clung to him, letting out little noises each time his cock thrusted into her. The pace was picking up from the slower one, her lips parting in a soft ‘o’ as Harry looked down at her. It seemed intense. No words exchanged but the noises of their sex, the wetness of her cunt and his cock fucking into the stranger’s welcoming cunt filling the room. 

The shift happened when he slowly adjusted her leg. Like a bolt had hit her, she squealed and arched up, panting out to him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck… right there, fuck me right there, don’t stop.” She was desperate, begging him as his prick filled her dripping cunt again and again. 

“M’not stopping until you’re creaming around my cock, sweetheart.” He smirked, keeping the angle perfect as he continued to sheath himself inside of her. The pleasured groans and moans, slapping of skin, it was all hot. Every bit of it. Y/N wasn’t going to be able to forget it. Harry was stretching her out, and watching his cock inside of her was doing something to her. 

It planted a seed of jealousy in her mind. Displaced, of course, because she had no claim over him. He was her friend, her roommate, but watching this made her recall her own experiences. While they hadn’t been bad- some were ever good!- they never made her moan like that. Never made her legs tremble in the way the girl underneath Harry were. No one had spoken to her with that sort of grit, that dirty. Her own had been moans, whispers, but nothing that came close to how her body was reaction to the mere sight of this. 

The noises got louder and she could see that they were getting to the edge but it felt like too much to watch it happen. Instead, she shut her bedroom door and listened. The slap of skin, the whimpers coming from the woman that were slightly muffled and the words of encouragement leaving his mouth. He called her a good girl, told her to cum around him, and a smack followed by a heady moan made her eyebrows raise. Harry was into it. It happened soon after, the repeated mewls into the air that she was cumming and the sound of his hips quickening before he let out a groan that would surely haunt her, then the sounds of frantic lips meeting. 

It was over now, but she surely wouldn’t forget about it anytime soon. 

——

Y/N hid out in her room for 2 hours. She knew the girl was gone, heard Harry tell her goodbye and the closing of the door. Heard him take a shower. But she was hesitant to leave. It was going to be an awkward thing, she knew, especially because she’d slipped her hand into her panties and made herself orgasm in record time. 

She was ashamed to get off to the memory of that. This was Harry, after all! But she couldn’t deny the hunger that rose after seeing the type of sex she’d always thought was reserved for her erotic novels in real time. Her sex had never been like that and the pleasured sounds and words from the woman he’d fucked had sounded so desperate and real, there was no way she was faking it.  The other thing that bothered her, though, was the fact that he had done it on the couch. They had a rule not to do anything in common areas, and if he had just followed them then she wouldn’t be in this mess. Thinking of him in ways she shouldn’t be. 

The guilt bubbled in her stomach, but it was hungry more than anything. She needed to eat something, needed to face the music, and she waited until Harry was in his room to scurry to the kitchen and grab some snacks as fast as she could- some chips, dark chocolate, a protein drink, piling them in her arms to make the great escape back to her room- only to turn around to see Harry standing there with a smile. 

Fuck.

“Hey, lovely. When did you get home? I didn’t hear the door.” He hummed, stepping closer into the kitchen and bumping her hip to get into the fridge. 

There were a few ways she could go about this, but Y/N didn’t like to lie. She despised it, actually, and that’s part of what made Harry like her so much. His words, not her assumption. She was honest to a fault, and it was hard to go back from that. But she wasn’t about to admit she stood there and watched- not on her own terms. 

“I’ve been home all day.” She said simply, avoiding his eye as she adjusted the snacks in her arms. Part of her wanted to book it to her room but if she did that, it would be even worse. He’d follow her. As hard as she’d tried, her voice came off a bit cool, not the normal easy warmth it usually held. He’d know. 

He froze. Harry’s body stiffening as he stood up from the fridge and shut the door. “You-You have?” His voice was hesitant and she could feel his eyes on her as she nodded, pretending to be interested in the ingredients list of her chocolate. “I- um…” it was very rare to have Harry speechless. He always knew what to say, how to say it, but in this instance he didn’t know how to react. “You… Did you-“

“Yep.” Y/N nodded. Despite how much she yearned for a lack of awkward, there was no avoiding it. 

“You said you’d be gone today.” His tone was accusatory, making irritation flare up in her. Her eyes blazed as they looked up at him. “You said you’d be at work.” 

“I texted you and told you that someone switched shifts with me.” That was no lie, but her voice was hard. Defensive. Because she wasn’t going to be blamed for his lack of phone usage. He was usually good with checking texts but some days he slacked, but she texted him and let him know she would be home. It was clear that he saw that when he fished his phone out of his pocket and saw the message on his lock screen, his body deflating and shrinking back as he saw the hard look in her eye. Y/N wasn’t usually irritated with him, but she didn’t appreciate being called a liar. 

“Fuck.” He said quietly, looking from the phone to her face which was showing obvious signs of discomfort. Harry would never want to make her uncomfortable, and he’d done exactly that with his own oversight. “Y/N, Love- I’m so sorry, I-“

“It’s fine.” She said quickly. “Just… clean the couch.” It made her feel gross to think there were traces of someone else, bodily fluids where she liked to take her naps. Even more so because she didn’t know how often this had happened. 

“I-of course. I’m truly sorry. I didn’t see the text, I would have never done anything if I knew you were home-“

“I said it was fine, Harry.” It came out sharper than she intended it to. Obviously it wasn’t fine. “I was waiting for a few hours to get something to eat so I didn’t interrupt. I just wanted to get my damn snacks and eat them in peace. If you’ll excuse me.” Bumping past him, she rushed towards her door and turned the lock, placing the snacks on her desk. That hadn’t gone smoothly. Not at all. 

—-

Harry felt like a piece of shit. 

It wasn’t often that he felt like that, but knowing he had done something that obviously made Y/N uncomfortable. The icky, nasty guilt and shame settled in his stomach as he sat on the couch he’d just steam cleaned, face in his hands. He’d known it had been a dumb idea to bring a girl back from the gym on a whim. He’d felt weird about it at first, but he’d been positive Y/N was at work and he’d have time to clean up and whatever before she came home. 

It was worse considering he chose a common area. He’d been so fucking horny, and the girl had been more than willing to be the one who relieved him. To be honest, he didn’t know her and probably wouldn’t ever see her again, but that didn’t matter now. The impulsive decision, his lack of awareness and selfishness had gotten him into a mess. This wasn’t just his flat. Y/N had been here first, she had bought this couch, and he had been selfish and done something on it that he knew he’d probably be a bit peeved about if she had done the same thing. 

Truthfully, he’d be hurt if he had to listen to Y/N get fucked. Even more so if he saw it but, he didn’t know what she knew. What she saw. It made him panic a little internally because there was no way he could get what he wanted with her now. He’d fucked up massively and he didn’t know how to fix it. 

His crush on Y/N had been an inconvenience he was truly trying to get over. She made no implications that she liked him back and he had been trying to learn how to be okay with that. How was she ever going to believe that he liked her when she was witness to him fucking all his pent up sexual aggression, aggression she unknowingly caused by walking out in her little sleep shorts this morning riding up her bum, onto another woman? There was no way she was going to take him seriously. His head was beginning to hurt as he tried to think of a way to apologize. 

Ordering her favorite pizza, he had it delivered to their flat and thanked the man with a tip before placing it on their dining table. The nerves were overrun as he made his way towards her door, the cold panic in his stomach making its way up his throat as he hesitantly raised his knuckles to knock on the door. 

“Love?” There as a brief silence and he held his breath, hoping he didn’t fuck it up enough to the point where she hated him. 

“Yeah?” The hesitant voice was smaller than the one he was used to, making him deflate a little bit. At least she answered. 

“I um, I got pizza for dinner. Your favorite.” His hands rested against her doorframe as he spoke through the door. “Did you- would you want to come out and eat with me? We can watch a movie or a show.” The attempt was something, at least. 

“I…” she paused. “If it’s alright I’d like to eat in my room. I’ll pay you back for the pizza.” He could almost hear her brain going. “I don’t think I’d like to sit on the couch for a while.”

His stomach dropped. God damn it. He really did make her uncomfortable, enough where she didn’t want to eat with him or sit in their living area. He felt his throat thicken, frustration building in his veins that was unfairly aimed at her. 

“I said I was sorry, Y/N.” He grunted. “Why don’t you want to eat with me? I steamed the couch, it’s safe to sit on now and I just want to fix it. So can you please get over it a little bit and come and eat?” 

Of course he regretted it as soon as it came out of his mouth. He hadn’t meant to talk to her like that. The frustration was aimed at himself and not her, but it came out all wrong. He heard her hitch in breath as she shuffled on her bed, opening the door to look at him with a blazing glare that made him shrink back. The man had never been in the receiving end of her anger before. 

“No, I’m not going to just get over it, Harry. Walking into my living room and seeing you pound some woman into the couch I like to take my naps on, a couch I bought before you even lived here may I add, is a bit jarring. We had rules about bringing people over and it’s supposed to stay in our rooms. Obviously it doesn’t fucking matter when you think I’m not home and I’m kind of sick at the thought of what else I may have sat on or slept in because you decided to disrespect me in our home.” She snarled, looking up at him with the severe gaze.  “If you really think all you have to do is buy some pizza and offer to watch a show with me and I’m just going to forget that you’ve gone behind my back, you’d be sorely mistaken. I’ve never lied to you, never once.” The look of betrayal had his stomach turning. “Just… leave me alone. I’m not ready to talk about it.” 

He watched as she slammed the door in his face, his body hot with embarrassment as she locked it. A clear sign she didn’t want to talk to him and it made him feel even worse than before. The words he said had been out of line and he knew it, but he didn’t know how to handle fighting with Y/N. It had never happened until this moment. 

“I’m sorry. Y/N, I-I don’t know why I said that but I just-“

“Harry. I asked you to leave me alone. Can you just respect this one fucking thing?” Her raised voice made him jump, eyes widening at the tone. Being at the receiving end of her anger wasn’t something he ever wanted to happen. “Just… go eat your pizza and leave me be. I’m not hungry.” 

It stumped him. He didn’t know how else to fix it. How could he? She was still very upset and he had fucked up, but what was even worse was knowing that he liked her way more than she liked him and having nothing to prove it by. He had brought home women that looked like her to try and get it out of his system many a time, but it never worked. 

To her, he was her silly, clumsy, charming friend. He was a shoulder to lean on, maybe. But to him? She was incredible. She was honest, brave, intelligent, witty, and so fucking pretty it was hard to look at her without wanting to touch sometimes. 

He’d never made a move because she didn’t seem like she was interested. She’d never gazed at his mouth the way he knew he looked at hers, she didn’t elongate the hugs- he was the one that would let go last. She’d been a friend to him when all he could think about was cupping her face and kissing her lips until they were swollen and she was breathless. He’d gone and mucked up any chance he had with her seeing him as anything more. 

Going back into the kitchen, he put the pizza into the fridge and returned back into his room. He wasn’t hungry anymore. All he was going to be able to focus on was the ability to fix this. 

——-

Y/N knew she was probably overreacting a little bit. It wasn’t as if he had killed someone. He’d broken a rule, yes, but she wasn't a tyrant. It shouldn’t matter to her so much, and that’s what she had been trying to figure out. Why did it?

She just didn’t like the answer she came up with. 

The girl was jealous. That was the thing that she could see, even if she didn’t want to. She was jealous because she’d never been fucked like that, never been touched in that way, talked to that way, and it had never been by Harry. He’d made her see him in a different light and now she was thinking about him in a way she shouldn’t be. 

She’d always loved Harry. He was a friend and her roommate, of course she was going to have fondness for him. It had never seemed like there were any feelings there, nothing had been outwardly there, no jealousy when he spoke of other people, but…. Seeing it? It had been arousing, yes, but after she thought about it for a bit it’d felt like a kick in the stomach. Why had he never tried anything with her before? Was he just that much of a flirt? It wasn’t a secret that he liked to fool around but somehow, things in her brain were changing and making her feel irritational. 

The sexual frustration that came from that was, well…. Stupidly frustrating. It made her wonder what his hands felt like, what his lips tasted like. If he would treat her the same way, or if he would be gentler. If he would kiss her neck and tell her she was a good girl, that she was taking it so well, if he would smack her ass too. It made her feel guilty that she even thought about him that way. 

Avoiding him for 3 days was a bit overkill, for sure. But she didn’t know how to look him in the face. How could she after all of that? It didn’t help that no matter where she tried to bring her fantasies when she would touch herself, it came back to him. The last three days had been plagued by the thought of him grabbing her hair and tugging her head back for a sloppy kiss while he was balls deep, praising her for it. 

He’d been sweet about it. Leaving her donuts one morning, flowers another. This morning it had been a hand written note. 

‘Y/N

I can’t express to you how sorry I am that I broke our rule. I know you don’t ask for much of me as a roommate and I promised I’d uphold them, and I fucked up. I had a lapse in judgment and I regret it a lot more than you can imagine. 

I don’t know how to fix this with us. I want to. I miss you and I miss talking to you but I’m trying to give you the space you need even if it hurts. I made the mistake and I’m paying for it. 

I promise I won’t ever do it again. I won’t bring someone home again, if that could help. Please talk to me when you’re ready. I miss you so much more than you could know. I’m not trying to buy you over with the gifts but I don’t know what else to do without making you uncomfortable. It’s killing me to know I hurt you at all. I’ve never done it before, though. I promise. I’ve never had anyone else there. It truly was a mistake. 

I’ll be home at my normal time if you want to talk, I’m bringing home Italian food. I’ll grab your favorite. Text me if you need, I’d love to hear from you.

H xx’

The note sounded genuine. It’s why she placed a blanket over the couch and sat stiffly as he walked into the door, noticing his double take as he hung up his keys. The bag of food hung off his arm and he looked at her wide eyed, though staying quiet as he went into the kitchen to place it down. 

“Hi.” He started, walking over to her slowly. “D-Did you have a good day?” The nerves could be heard in his voice and it made her sad. She didn’t want him to be terribly nervous around her, not when they used to have a really comfortable relationship. 

“It was okay.” She murmured, rubbing her hand over her lounge pants. “Got off of work early.” What else was she supposed to say? It was hard to navigate this when she’d never imagined fighting with Harry at all. 

“Oh? That’s good.” He sat on the coffee table in front of her, wanting to face forward when he spoke to her. “I had to stay a tiny bit late. It’s why I wasn’t home on time. I’m sorry.” His eyes were studying her face, desperate to see forgiveness in her eyes. The last few days without her had felt so empty. 

“It’s okay.” She shrugged. “Figured something like that happened.”  Picking at her nails, she moved to look at him. “I’m not sure how to talk to you right now. I’m not angry anymore, but I don’t know how to go about it.” Y/N, as blunt as ever, made him smile sadly.

“M’crawling out of my skin. Don’t like that I made you upset at all. It was stupid. You read my note?” He anxiously awaited all day a text from her but he hadn’t gotten one. 

“I did.” She took a deep breath. “I’m upset about the couch thing but there’s layers to it that have been difficult for me to understand. It isn’t fair of me to sit and say it’s all your fault I stayed away for the last few days because part of it was me.” It was terrifying to admit things like this but she didn’t know how else to be. It would probably make things weird with them, but it had to be discussed or it would ruin their friendship. 

“How do you mean?” Brows furrowed as he shifted forward, hands on his knees as he leaned into her space. He’d always been a touchy person who didn’t know what personal space was, so she was used to it but it still made her react. A bit differently this time. “Are you okay?”

“I think so.” It was difficult to look at him without feeling that burn in her stomach. “It made me look at you differently. A way I hadn’t allowed myself to look at you before, and I’ve felt guilty and…” how could she word it? “Slightly perverted for it. You’re my friend and I shouldn’t have let seeing that influence anything other than my upset about the rules, but it made me think of you in a light that friends shouldn’t look at other friends.” 

Well, he hadn’t expected that. 

He was slowly catching on, watching her shy face as she looked back towards her lap and fiddled with her hands. She looked at him in a sexual way. That’s why she was avoiding him. The couch issue was one thing, but she was upset that she was looking at a friend in a way that went past their normal relationship. 

As fucked up as it may be, he felt a sprinkle of hope. Her postures perked up a bit as he tried to get her eyes again, but he didn’t want to assume she wanted anything from him. “That’s okay, love.” His hand cautiously grabbed one of hers, holding it lax enough that she could pull back if she wanted to. “Really. There’s nothing wrong with that at all.” He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand, relief flooding him that the majority of the reason she had been avoiding him was something like this. Something he could remedy. “So you’ve been thinking of me sexually, that’s what you’re saying?”

Y/N groaned, closing her eyes as her head fell back against her shoulders. “God, yes. Okay?! And I’m ashamed of it. I don’t know why it happened and why I can’t just forget about it but it makes me…’it made me annoyed that I haven’t felt anything like that before. I’ve never made noises like that and no one’s ever made me feel like what I assume she was. I’ve always seen you as something else and then, imagine my fucking surprise when I walk in and see you acting like a porn star. Not even one of the bad ones either. It would have been easier if it was!” The floodgates opened and Harry watched with raised brows as she continued, fueling his ego in the process. “I feel guilty pthat I looked at it and wanted to be in that position. I never thought of you like that, not that you aren’t amazing and attractive but you were supposed to just be my platonic friend considering we’d roommates. Don’t you know how bad it would be to be into your roommate? It makes everything insane.” 

“I know how it feels.” He murmured, making her pause. If she was unloading all of this stuff, being honest as honest could be, he figured he may as well. Let it all set out on the table. 

“Wait- what?” She squeaked, looking at him with wide eyes this time. It had been a mistake, she thought, until he shrugged his shoulders. 

“Yeah. I’ve always thought of you like that, but you didn’t seem to reciprocate so I tried to get over it. I was distracting myself so I wouldn’t fuck up our friendship.” It was his turn to look at his lap, watching his freshly painted thumb run over her knuckles and fiddle with her ring. “Always worried about making you feel like… objectified in your own home. I wanted to be respectful. But do you really think I’m not attracted to you?” He found the courage to look up again. “I’ve been attracted to you since we first met. But you’ve always been so nonchalant about everything, I assumed you didn’t care.”

Y/N was stumped. Harry was into her? He wanted to touch her this whole time and she had been none the wiser? It made her pause, trying to recount all their memories. Had he always looked at her like this? With the soft glint in his eyes, or with the hunger? Yearning, perhaps was the word. She’d never even guessed that in the slightest. He’s had a revolving door of partners coming over to fuck around, but she thought that’s just how he was.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” He sighed. “I didn’t want to make you feel obligated to cater to my feelings. I still don’t. If you aren’t into me like that, it’s okay. I want our friendship to remain in tact. But I needed to tell you it’s not one sided. You don’t have to feel guilty over thinking of me like that considering the only reason I took that girl home was because you’d made me sexually frustrated that morning with those little sleep shorts and coming in for a hug and pressed your sleepy, soft body against me. I needed to get that out.” He knew it didn’t make much sense when he said it out loud. 

“Did it work?”

That hadn’t been the response he expected, blinking a few times as he gave her a questioning look. “Did what work?” 

“Fucking her. Did you get me out of your mind?” She looked at him expectantly and he could feel the heat starting to raise in his cheeks. He’d expected… not this sort of train of thought, but he wasn’t about to lie again. 

“Not really.” He admitted. “I mean… in the moment, an orgasm helped. But I wasn’t fucking the person I was thinking about.” 

This time Y/N blinked a few times at him, trying to catch up mentally. “So…’you were thinking about me, when you…”

“Yes.” Unashamed at this point, there was nothing to lose. 

“And all the things you were saying? You were like….” Her eyes fell to his mouth. Pretty and pink, obviously nervously bitten, she had been a little shocked at the revelation. “You were saying them to me? In your head?”

“Basically.” He could see on her face that she was flustered but chose not to tease her about it like he normally would. “I usually bring people back that look like you. Tried to do people who were the opposite but, it made it harder to cum.” The gloves were off now. There was a shift in the air as she adjusted herself on the couch, pressing her thighs together and desperately hoping he didn’t notice. 

He did. 

“You can’t… finish? Unless you think about me?” It made her eyes stay wide, her grip on his hand tightening slightly out of reflex. 

“Well… I can, but it isn’t as good. Usually that’s where my head goes to. I can’t really help it.” Harry came the hardest when he looked at where his cock connected to the other person, imagining it being her cunt he was fucking. Her moans. That the praises that he was saying was heard by her and the clenching and slickness was caused by her reaction to him. It was a bit pathetic and he knew it, but at least it wasn’t a secret anymore. 

“Do you still want to?” 

Harry’s head whipped up so fast he knew he must have pulled a muscle, but there wasn’t a tract of joking on her face. Was she asking what he thought she was. “Do I still want to fuck you?” He clarified, watching her bother head in response. Fuck. The lump in his throat was swallowed as he tried to reply the best way he could. “Of course I do. I’ve been thinking about it for ages but… it’s not just about sex with you.” It was much more than that. “I actually like you. I’d want… I wouldn’t want to have sex once and be done with it. I’d want to properly take you out at some point.” It was a bit unorthodox considering they already lived together but he wouldn’t want to give her any less than she deserved. 

“Okay.” She said softly. “We can do that.” 

His head was spinning. Y/N was so casual about it, not hesitant at all in her agreement to basically be something with him. It felt like he was in a dream, but the frantic beats of his heart made him understand he was very much awake. “Yeah?” He leaned in closer. “You’d want to do it all with me?” The voice was hushed even though there was no one else around. 

Tonight was full of surprises, it seemed, when the girl got up from the couch and made the move to straddle his lap. His hand was quick to wrap around her to make sure she didn’t fall, but his body burned as she ran a hand through his hair and he tilted it up to look at her. They’d never been this close before and he was already growing in his pants, making him shiver as she leaned down to brush her nose against his. “Yeah. I’d like to go on a date with you, too but…” she took a moment to rub it against his own, back and forth. Making his eyes hood a bit as his arm shifted to pull her closer to him, desperate for the contact. “I want you to fuck me, first. Make me cum harder than the other girl did. I want to make those noises, H.” She whispered. 

Harry didn’t need to be told twice. Not when she was sitting right on his lap, presenting herself like the perfect little present. Willing and eager for the taking. Leaning himself up, he caught her lips in a gentle kiss. Trying to pace himself, though he could feel the self control slipping from his grip as she hummed into his mouth. This was he shit he had been dying for, feeling her fingers slip from his hair to the back of his neck as he pulled apart to take a breath. “I’ll do whatever you want, sweetheart. Anything.” 

Back again their lips were attached. It wasn’t as gentle, no, not when she kissed him harder. He was going to give into anything she wanted. Not only because he had fucked up, but because he wanted to make her happy. He was desperate to please her, to make her feel as good as she possibly could and he wanted to be the one responsible for it. 

Their kissing escalated quickly, groaning as she easily opened her mouth for him and even more so when she sucked on his tongue, making arousal zip up his spine. He’d never expect her to kiss like this, not in the slightest. The expectation had been soft and hesitant, but she was giving him the kisses in his wet dreams. His hand found her ass, palming over it before giving a squeeze, making a moan muffle against his mouth. “Take me to your room.” She whispered against his lips. “Please, H. Just take me there. I want these off.” Fingers tugged at his shirt, trying to get it off. 

Who was he to deny her? 

He helped her toss it off before grabbing her and standing up, chuckling when she squeaked his name and scrambled to hold on to him with her arms around his neck. “Said I’d give you whatever you wanted, love.” 

The walk there was short, but it took an even shorter time to get her on his bed with her top off. She wasn’t wearing a bra, much to his surprise and delight. The fabric was tossed to the side of his bed as his pupils dilated, looking down at her topless body. Something he had been dreaming about for ages, and here she was. Sitting pretty in his sheets, hair messy and lips swollen from kissing him. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.” He drawled, running his hands down her sides. “So beautiful. Y’know that? Drives me fucking mad.” His fingers were greedy, crawling back up to her collarbones and back down to the curves of her breasts. “Been dying to see you.”

Y/N took his wrists, guiding his hands to cup her breasts. She was impatient and that much was obvious, but it made him amused more than anything else. His eager girl. “Touch me. Please.” Her eyes matched the pleading in her voice, making him smile. This sort of begging he’d never expected from her, not with her usual strong will and blunt demeanor but he couldn’t say he hated it. 

“I’m going to, lovely. It’s all I want to do.” He soothed, thumbing across her nipples. She arched into it, letting out a soft sound as he did so. It seemed like once the wall had cracked, it was deteriorating quickly right in front of his eyes. He’d be the one to get to see her like this now after pining for it, and he knew she would be the best. Anyone else had been filler, as cruel as it sounded. He was respectful towards them, honest about only wanting to hook up once, because he knew that no matter how hard he tried to imagine nothing would beat he real thing. 

And he’d been right. 

No one else affected him so quickly, so intensely. Watching her mouth fall open as he moved to pinch both of her nipples lightly and tug, she whimpered into the air and gave him a look he wanted to commit to memory. He wanted to see that face every time he closed his eyes. 

“My lovely girl… don’t need to beg me to touch you, because you know I will… but.” He leaned down to kiss her again. “I do like the sound of your voice while you beg for me.” 

His hands moved from her breasts regretfully, clicking his tongue to hush her whine of protest as he hooked his fingers into her lounge pants. Pulling them down, he was met with a beautiful picture- a filthy one. His eyes shot to hers, narrowing slightly. “No fucking panties either? Y/N.” He hissed between his teeth. “Are you always walkin’ around like this? Nothing on underneath?” She nodded quickly, kicking the pants off of her ankles. 

“Hate them.” The girl huffed. “So constricting. I don’t wear them when I don’t have to.” 

His eyes closed for a moment, groaning at the information. “So every time you’ve been sitting there with me, watching one of those movies… I could have slipped my hand down your shorts and felt how wet you get for me?” He questioned, looking down at her. His fingers tugged at his belt, tossing it haphazardly as his eyes stayed pinned to hers as he continued undressing. “You’re telling me…. You prance around here in those little cotton shorts, and you’re bare under them? Could have just… tugged them down and gotten to see that pretty pussy?”

“Mhm.” She grinned, liking the reaction she was getting. “Everything you said. I don’t usually wear them at home.” Her fingers dragged down her stomach, stopping at the mound right above her cunt. “Makes it easier when I want to touch myself, too. Less layers.” 

Harry took a deep breath, watching her hand as it slipped further down to cover her cunt. It was wet, there no was no hiding it. He could see it clearly, and his cock was aching to bury itself in there and let it squeeze every drop of cum from him. He tried to collect himself as he looked down at her, watching her fingers spread herself open for a moment before swirling over her clit with a whimper. 

His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, a dark look on his face. “Not yet. That’s my job tonight.” He warned, falling to his knees in front of her. Clad just in his briefs, he hooked his arms under her thighs and pulled her close to him, so close that he could almost taste her. Instead, he kissed her inner thighs. Soft, sweet. Gentle in the way he had always wanted to be with her before her fucked her and made her hopefully as addicted to him as he knew he was going to be to her. “You okay with this, love? Tell me you want me to have you.” Lips pressed on the soft mound above her cunt. “Tell me I can.” 

“Please, I’m okay. I want you to have me, you can do anything you want. Just… touch me. Please, H.” Her hips tried to move up and catch his mouth, Y/N showing no sign of embarrassment as she did so. He felt a surge of pride, knowing she wanted him that badly. Her body was perfect for him, every dip and curve and scar soon to be memorized. He’d call off of work tomorrow to spend the day in bed with her, pampering and spoiling not only herself, but his innermost desires. 

“Such good manners.” He cooed, shifting her closer as he took his first lick. “Remember what I said about begging, yeah?” 

It was all bets off. Y/N could barely breathe as she felt his mouth on her. Slowly licking up her and tongue finding her clit, flicking over it and repeating the process. His hand held her lower tummy, keeping her still as he continued. Her breathing was already picking up when he felt his tongue dip into her, making her grip fall from her own thighs to his hair. “Oh my god, Harry. That-“ she couldn’t finish her sentence as he did it again, nuzzling into her without a care in the world.

It was true. He wanted his face messy and wet with her, wanted to bury himself in there and feel her stomach jump as his hand held her down. He was tasting her directly from the source. “Taste so good.” He mumbled against her. “My favorite thing to taste now. You know that?” He took another broad sweep of his tongue, looking into her eyes as he pursed his lips and spit on her clit. He smirked at the little gasp she let out, head dipping back down to spread it over her cunt as she began to move her hips to chase his tongue. “No, baby. None of that. Stay still for me.” He coaxed, pressing down harder on her stomach to pin her to the bed. 

Y/N tried, she really did. But it felt so good, so fucking amazing- and then he added his fingers into the mix. Slipping one in slowly, she let out a noise she didn’t recognize. Of course she knew this was going to feel good, but she vastly underestimated how crazy he was going to make her. “Harry please… fuck.” Truthfully? She didn’t even know what she was begging for. Her mouth fell open again and she arched her back as she felt his mouth over her clit, sucking in in messily while his finger fucked into her. It was impossible to stay still. “Harry, more. I want more, please, I’m gonna cum if you….” She lost her train of thought when he added another finger. 

The man was eating this up. Watching her as she tried to keep still for him but feeling her fingers curl in his hair and press him further against her clit, he sucked harded the more she pushed. Finding a good rhythm as his pulsing sucking had her panting, toes curling into the sheet as he continued the pleasure filled torture. He wanted to feel her cum on his tongue. 

“Cum.” He ordered. “Do it for me, precious girl. C’mon.” He finally allowed her to move, rubbing herself on his face as his fingers fucked and curled into her, his mouth latched to her puffy, swollen clit. She felt crazy, she was sure of it, writhing on the mattress as the heat crawled up her body. His eyes were directly on her, hot and dark while she felt herself fall over the edge. 

“Harry- Harry, oh my fucking god.” She couldn’t breathe, repeating his name like it was air as she fell over the edge. White hot pleasure washing over her, orgasm soaking his face as he pulled up and kissed her hard. Her body still shook as he pulled himself out of his briefs and began to push in, feeling her still orgasming pussy quivering around him. “You just- please.” Her eyes opened frantically, fingers finding his back as she pulled him in. Legs wrapped around his waist as he sunk in deeper, filling her up in ways she hadn’t felt before. 

“I know, baby. I know.” He cooed. “You feel… so good around me. Just let me in.” He cupped her face, pressing soft kisses to her mouth. “I’m going to take you all fucking night. You know that?” His voice was a deeper tone than she’d even heard him with the other girl. Feeling it directed at her only amplified the arousal. “Not going to last long, feeling you and taste you… it’s all I’ve ever wanted. Almost came just licking you out.” He told the truth. Y/N was perfect, he thinks. Exactly what he needed. 

“I want it all.” She replied, pulling his face down further to kiss him deeper. “So much. I want you to do anything to me. Just…” her legs tugged him in deeper, making them both groan. “Just fuck me, Harry. It’s me this time.” It boosted her ego to know he had been searching for her this entire time. “It’s not someone you have to pretend with. You’ve wanted me this whole time? Show me.” Her nails dragged down his back, making him shiver. “Fuck me like you own me.”

Something in that triggered something in him, something he’d been hiding all along. Kissing her hard to shut her up, he slid out of her to ram back in. Jolting her, she cried out against his lips as he did it again. Hard thrusts paired with a grind at the end, pulling out slowly only to repeat it. She’d never been fucked like this- so purposefully. “Yes- like that, H.” The girl whimpered. “Please. Use me. Have me.” 

“Yeah? You want to be mine?” He asked, wild eyes looking into her own as he pressed his forehead against hers, not caring about the stickiness of their sweat. “Do you know how long I’ve been dying to be wrapped up by your cunt? Hm?” He spoke against her lips, smiling drunkenly as she whimpered with his intent thrusts. “Since I first saw you. Wanted to drag you to your bed and fill you up. Make you cry for me. And every day since… It's been growing.” The desire for her has grown to something he hadn’t ever thought possible. It was hard to ignore. Thank god he never had to ignore it again. “Every day, I thought about pulling you into my arms and kissing you until you couldn’t breathe. You think anyone else could ever compare to you?” He shook his head to answer his own question. “No. No one. Not anyone I’ve taken home, not the girl from the other day… no one has made me feel as good as this.” 

Harry had always loved sex, but when he met Y/N and developed the attraction and then feelings for her, he’d been chasing a high that couldn’t be provided by anyone else. This, this was exactly what he needed. “Need to stay inside of you, sweet girl. Need to… fuck.” Some hair fell into his face as his thrusts sped up just slightly. It was hard to think when her walls were contracting around him, so slick and hot that it made him dizzy. “Need to cum in you and do it again… and again.” He knew she was on birth control considering he’d gone with her to get the implant. They were safe, but that didn’t stop him for perhaps wishing it wasn’t. “Just want to make you mine, my sweet fucking girl….” His head lulled forward as he looked down to watch them. 

It was a filthy sight. His bare cock pulling out, glistening with her arousal and mess. Her cunt stretching open, her lips puffy and wet just for him. He was doing this. He was filling her up, he was making her cling to him, and he was finally inside the one person he’d never thought he could have. “Look at how good we are together. Look with me, baby.” He pulled her up slightly, holding the back of her neck to let her see the filthy sight. His prick spreading her while the wet, puffy lips of her cunt as he filled her. “Touch yourself. Rub that clit for me.” 

Y/N did as requested, finding it quickly as she watched the now slower thrusts inside of her. It made her smug, really. Knowing that he was this enthralled with her. Also, the knowledge that he was losing his mind far more over her than he had the other girl. He was obsessed with her and she could visibly see it. 

“There we go.Pretty, pretty fucking girl. You’re all I want. This body, that mouth, S’all I dream about. Just want you in my bed, want to get rid of those damn rules so I can take you on every damn surface… please let me, angel. Please.” He pleaded. “No more rules. Only want you.”

“No more rules.” She nodded, finding the pleasure building back up. Her hand rubbing her already sensitive and puffy clit, watching as her arousal began to make a creamier mess on his cock, she was in awe of how perfect they looked together. “H… you’re gonna make me cum.” 

Harry smiled, a real smile that took her breath away. “Thank god. I’m trying to hold on for you, but m’so close.” He let her lay back down, leaning over her and speeding the pace back up as he sucked a nipple into his mouth. It was hard to focus on one thing when he’d been dying for this situation for a year. He had his dream girl wrapped around his cock. 

Fingers found his hair again as she arched into his mouth, mewling as he sucked over her nipple and fucked into her at a steady speed. He was hitting right where he needed to, her fingers rubbing circles on her clit. It was messy and wet and so perfect, it was hard to keep herself together. “Please.” She whined. “Please, can I cum? Let me cum, I need to. I want you in me and I want to feel your cum inside me, mark me, make me yours.” She pleaded, feeling him pull off her other nipple with a pant.

“Don’t have to hold back from me. M’gonna go right after you, just want you to feel good. Let go for me, my good girl. I’m yours, always have been. You’re already mine.” His nose brushed hers, moving her hand to take over rubbing her clit. He did it faster, a bit more pressure and that little difference with his permission was all it took for her to let go.

Harry felt it as she did. The pulsing of her cunt, the slickness growing and the way her mouth went lax, not able to kiss but only breath him in as she tumbled into the pleasure. Her legs tightened around him, nails digging into the back of his neck as her eyes fell closed, the prettiest moan vibrated against his lips. 

It pushed him right off the edge with her. Thrusts growing sloppy, he didn’t lighten up with his hand as he felt her contracting around him, sopping wet and tight for him as he felt his balls tighten and unload into her. His deep groan was loud, louder than he’d anticipated as he kissed her to try and muffle it. He could feel himself throbbing as her cunt sucked him in, greedy for it as the pulsating of her walls drew each ribbon of cum into her. She was coated, and he underestimated just how much he had as it began to spill out of her as he filled her to the brim. 

“Oh my god.” He whispered. “Fuck me, baby. You’re perfect.” It was a bit of disbelief that coated his tone. Lips fell all over her face, pressing soft pecks over her cheeks, her chin, nose, eyelids, forehead, everywhere he could get it as he tried to get his breathing back to normal. It was the hardest he’d ever came, and he still felt shaky from it as he stayed buried in her. Where he belonged. Y/N melted under the kisses, smiling wide as her eyes peeled open to look at him. Dark eyes and flushed face, messy hair she continued to drag her fingertips into. One fell from the softness, cupping his chin and pulling it back to her mouth for a proper kiss. It seemed to make him melt as well, sagging slightly on top of her despite being mindful of his weight on her body. 

Harry knew this was the start of something much bigger than either of them could have anticipated- and it all started because of his silly mistake. He’d finally gotten the one he wanted. No more pretending with anyone else. He had the real thing at home. 

Y/N nudged his nose with hers, feeling so many things her head felt overwhelmed. But the most important question had to be asked. “So. When can we do it again?”

[sushirrrry]

EXECUTIVE.

a one shot — tomorrow, 8pm EST.

(ceo/assistant, he falls first AND hard, smut smut smut)

available on wp and tumblr. keep your notifications on!

🤍📆💼✨🔥

[heartateasee]

“Clairvoyant”

harry x you (don’t really know how to label him in this one…)

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: cheating (with y/n), angst, some rough sex (spanking, spitting, anal play - f receiving), squirting and slight degradation

Plot: You and Harry had been sneaking around with each other for over a year as he was unhappy in his arranged relationship with his fiancée, but that all comes crumbling down one day when he shows up at your door unexpectedly.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━

This wasn’t what you had expected when you had planned a night in for yourself. You didn’t expect to answer the door and see Harry with a duffel bag in his hand when he hadn’t even announced he’d be coming over.  You didn’t expect to be sitting on the edge of your bed, staring down at your feet with tear-filled eyes as he walked around your room - gathering things he had left here for the last year or so. The only thing he told you when he walked in was that he was here to get his things, and nothing more had been spoken between the two of you in the five minutes he had been here.

“Are you just not going to tell me what’s going on?” You asked as you sucked in a deep breath, pressing your tongue to the inside of your cheek.

Harry stopped moving for a second, and you could see the inkling of him turning his head to look at you over his shoulder, but he stopped himself -  continuing to pack his bag. “She found out, and she threatened to go to my father with it all.”

Your heart sank when you realized this was the worst case scenario. You felt your bottom lip wobbling as you picked at your nails, looking away from him again.

“So...this is it?” 

You hoped it wasn’t, but deep down you knew. You were never going to see him again.

“It has to be,” Harry’s voice was rough, and unlike you’d ever heard from him before.

In the past year and a half that you had known each other, you had only see him angry once, and that was because the restaurant you had ordered delivery from for dinner fucked up your order. Not his - yours. He always wanted to make sure that you were happy and satisfied, and knowing that your meal wasn’t right had him riled up. You had managed to talk him down with a few kisses, and some soft caresses, and that night ended with the two of you cuddled up next to the fireplace.

You pursed your lips to the side as you tried to keep yourself from getting overly emotional, but it was all coming down on you at once. “How did she find out?”

“She went through my phone while I was asleep. She found our folder…”

Flinching away, you immediately knew the folder he was referring to. It was a hidden one that he had in his photos, but with the proper password, it was accessible to anyone that may have his phone in their possession. It was photos of the two of you, most of the time engaging in some act of sex, and now you regretted ever agreeing to let him have that. The only reason why you had was because you knew he grew lonely while his fiancée was at work, or when she was out with friends, and you wanted to be able to provide him with some satisfaction when you couldn’t be together.

“She didn’t do anything with those photos, did she?”

“No, she assured me she didn’t, and I believe her,” Harry zipped up his bag, and for the first time he actually turned to look at you. “That’s not her angle as of right now. If I weren’t to end this, then that would change.”

Your bottom lip trembled as it fully hit you that not only was he leaving, but someone had seen the two of you when you were most vulnerable. You were careful when it came to showing that part of yourself to others. Harry had only been the fifth person in your life to see you naked like that. 

“So she…she saw me like…” You trailed off, not being able to even finish your sentence as you shut your eyes tight.

You jumped as you then felt the tips of Harry’s fingers dancing down the sides of your arms after a few seconds. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

For the first time since showing up, his voice held that tenderness that you knew and loved so much. 

Except right now, it didn’t do a single thing to calm you. Instead, it was pissing you off considering he had the nerve to come here, barely speak to you and just trudge his way into your bedroom to start packing his bag as if the two of you didn’t have something deeper than just sleeping together going on.

You loved each other. You both knew it - even though it hadn’t been spoken.

Speaking it out loud would make it a true reality for the two of you, and deep down, you always knew this was how it was going to end. It wasn’t going to be a mutual goodbye, or a cordial separation. It was going to have to blow up in order for the two of you to stop seeing each other because neither one of you wanted to let go.

“No,” you raised your hands, pushing against his chest slightly to have his touch retreating from you. “You don’t get to touch me anymore.”

Your voice wavered as you avoided eye contact with him, sniffing loudly as you tried to come off as strong - wanting to will away these frustrating tears.

“Y/N, please,” Harry’s voice was now pleading with you, but you shook your head.

“No, Harry,” you shoved at his chest again. “You walked in here as if I was just some one night stand, and your girlfriend found out, but you forgot something important of yours so you had to come back in here. You walked in here, and you didn’t give me any type of explanation until I asked. You didn’t offer me a single shred of consoling. It's like you didn’t expect for this to make me feel this way.”

You never got angry with Harry. You just didn’t. You never raised your voice, or showed any irritation. You had never felt that way towards him.

Until now.

“So, yeah, go ahead and leave,” you walked past him and out of your bedroom as you started back towards your front door. “Since it’s just so easy for you to do, then guess what? It’s going to be so easy for me to watch you go.”

Just as your hand went to reach for the door knob, you felt an arm around your waist - pulling you back against a broad chest.

“Y/N, please don’t be like this,” Harry said into your ear, and you could tell by the tone that he was starting to crack. “Don’t have us end it angry.”

“That’s not fair!” You all but wailed as your tears started to fall harder. “You were going to try and make this as emotionless as possible. You were just going to leave me to take care of it by myself once you were gone.”

“Because it’s easier!” Harry’s voice boomed as he pulled away from you just to turn you around, and you looked up to see tears of his own pooling in his eyes. “I can’t…I can’t have you beg for me. If you do that, then I’d never be able to really say goodbye.”

You swallowed harshly at the word.

‘Goodbye’.

“That’s it then?” You asked, shaking your head. “I…I don’t even get to have you one last time?”

Harry’s eyes lifted from where he was looking down at his feet for a moment, and you watched as his eyes danced over you - contemplating your question.

He knew he shouldn’t. That it would just make things harder to walk away if he allowed himself to indulge in you one last time, but it was hard to resist.

Sex had never felt so good for the two of you until each other. Without even speaking, you were both able to determine what the pace of the night would be. Whether it be rough, the way you both liked it most of the time, or whether it was slow or passionate - you both just knew what was needed silently.

“We shouldn’t,” Harry looked away from you again, and he walked past you - going back into your bedroom.

You followed closely behind him, and you watched as he bent down to grab the bag he brought with him off the floor. It was packed, and ready to go. 

The last pieces of him that you had confined inside a piece of luggage.

“This isn’t fair,” you choked out, deciding to be selfish. “You can’t…you can’t just leave me.”

“Come on, Y/N,” Harry sighed as he pulled the strap of his bag over his shoulder. “Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”

“I don’t understand how this is so easy for you,” you sat down on the edge of your bed, tugging at your hair in frustration. “How are you okay with just walking out that door and never seeing me again? Harry, I-I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.”

When this whole thing first started, you both had agreed that it was just sex - no feelings. Neither of you could determine exactly when that changed, but it hadn’t been just sex for a long time now. 

You weren’t sure if it was when he started leaving stuff here that the switch happened, or maybe it was when you were sick and he showed up at your door with medicine and hot soup to make you feel better. Regardless of not being able to narrow it down, the switch had happened, and you both allowed yourselves to grow too attached.

“You think this is easy?” Harry hissed, and you dropped your hands to claw at the comforter underneath you. “You think this is fucking easy?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but Harry continued.

“This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life, don’t you understand?” Harry’s eyes showed remorse and honesty as they drilled into yours. “Leaving you here, and knowing that this is it…I’m fucking ruined. No one has ever meant as much to me as you do.”

Harry had never confessed such deep emotions towards you before, but that was because neither of you needed it. 

Again, you both just knew. You always knew.

“And no one has ever meant as much to me as you!” You practically screamed back as more tears of anger and fear stained your face. “I should’ve never fucking done this. It should’ve just been the one night like we said. You should’ve never asked for my number. We should’ve just left it alone.

"I knew it would end with only one of us being completely devastated because you were always going to have someone to turn to once it was over. But not me…I don’t know how I’ll move on.”

You dropped your face into your hands as a sob wrecked through your chest. The only man that you could really say that you deeply, and truly loved was leaving you.

You were convinced you’d never find another. Harry was the love of your life. No one else could ever compare.

“You don’t mean that,” Harry said as he wrapped his hand around the back of your neck - thumb caressing your skin. “I don’t regret a single thing with you.”

Deep down, you didn’t either, but it was easier to try and convince yourself that you did in order to try to find the first step in moving on.

“Stop it,” you snapped while lifting your head up, and you watched as his eyes widened. You never had spoken to him like this before. “Just get out, Harry. Not that I would be able to anyway, but I never want to see you again.”

The pained look on Harry’s face was one that would be etched into your mind forever.

“Y/N, please don’t make us leave it like this,” Harry’s hand tightened its hold on you.

“I’m sorry, but how are we supposed to leave it? Am I supposed to just shake your hand, and thank you for the last year and some odd months of sex? For leading me to believe that I could ever be something besides the other woman? You told me you were going to figure it out. You told me you were going to leave her.”

“Yeah, well I thought I had more time,” Harry’s voice was raising again as he dropped his hand. “But I don’t, and if I don’t do this, then I have nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing.”

“You’d have me!” 

The quiet hung over the two of you as you stared into each other’s eyes, and you felt as if your heart was being ripped out of your chest when that didn’t earn a response.

“Right,” you laughed sadly, lifting a hand to push away your tears. “I’m not enough. I’ll never fucking be enough for you.”

You kept your eyes down as you waited to hear his footsteps, but all you heard was the sound of his bag thumping against the ground. His large hands were then on your face - tilting your head up to look at him.

“You are more than enough for me,” Harry said, holding your eyes so you knew he was telling the truth. “You’re too good for me, and that’s why I have to let you go. You deserve someone better. Someone that can offer you everything that you want - everything that I can’t.”

“I don’t want anyone else, don’t you understand?” You clawed at his sides, clinging to him harder than you ever had. “I want you. Just you, Harry.”

It was then you felt his mouth against yours, and you didn’t even need to feel it for more than a second before you were fully giving in. You immediately separated your lips, tongues rolling over each other’s as he slotted himself between your legs. He tipped your head back even further, eliciting a moan from you as you felt him beginning to suck on your tongue.

Your hands ran down to his jeans that he had on, grateful of the fact he hadn’t worn a belt so you could easily pop the button before pulling down the zipper. 

Slipping your hand inside his briefs, Harry gasped into your mouth as you took him into your palm - your thumb brushing over his soft tip. He was always so heavy in your hand, and you loved it. 

“Y/N,” he whimpered as he pulled his lips away from yours, resting his forehead against your temple.

“I need you to properly say goodbye to me,” you panted as your hand worked his shaft.

Your command rang in Harry’s ears for just a moment before he nodded, reaching down to pull the hem of your jumper up - the article of clothing abandoning your body. You didn’t have anything on underneath, and he lowered you so that you were laying fully on your bed. He eventually maneuvered the two of you to have you both laying in the middle of your mattress as his hands reached up to knead at your breasts.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, shaking his head. “I need to memorize you. Every bit of you.”

Soon you also removed his shirt from his torso, and he kicked his jeans and briefs the rest of the way off his body to have him fully naked.

“I wish I could take my time with you,” he breathed as he pulled off your leggings and your underwear. “But I can’t be too long.”

You shook your head softly. “I really don’t care. I just need to feel you one last time.”

Harry ran his hand down the expanse of your abdomen before both hands cupped your hips, and he flipped you over onto your stomach. The sudden movement pulled a gasp from you, and you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth as you knew where this was going.

He was going to be rough with you, and you secretly hoped he would choose this as the last way to have you other than making it slow.

“Condom?” Harry questioned as he ran his length between your folds.

“Have you gone without using one with her?” You looked at him over your shoulder.

After the first few times of being with each other, the two of you decided to forgo condoms. You had an IUD, and he always used condoms when sleeping with her, so you knew the two of you would be safe.

Harry shook his head. “No, and either way, I haven’t slept with her in a couple months.”

“Harry,” you sighed, dropping your forehead against the bed. “No wonder she went through your phone.”

“I know,” he cleared his throat. “I promise that I tried, but the last time I did…I couldn’t get hard.”

“Jesus,” you knew that was the nail in the coffin.

Harry had always talked about how sex with her was okay, but that it didn’t compare to what he had with you. He had agreed to still sleep with her every couple of weeks to avoid suspicion, so now you understood exactly why she had gone digging for answers.

“It’s fucked up.”

“It is,” you agreed, but there was a part of you that felt your stomach swirling at his confession. “Can only get hard for your whore, hm?”

Harry’s palm cracked down against one of the globes of your ass - causing your body to jolt forward as you huffed out a laugh. 

“Watch it,” he sneered, and you felt yourself clench down around nothing. 

“What? Isn’t that all I am? Just a hole to stuff your big-”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence as you felt Harry’s cock enter you with one hard thrust, and your fingers gripped to your bedding as he stretched you beyond comprehension.

“Shut-up,” Harry hissed through gritted teeth, and he brought his hand up to redden your other ass cheek - making them even.

After a moment, he started up a vigorous pace as he pulled your cheeks apart to properly see where he disappeared inside of you. His eyes lingered on your tightest hole, and you squirmed as you felt him spit down against it.

“You say you’re my whore?” The pad of Harry’s thumb began to smear the wetness over the band of muscles, and you choked on a moan as he dipped the tip inside. “Then you’ll take it like one.”

His digit then entered you fully, and he began to pulse it in and out of you at the same rhythm that his prick consumed you at.

You could feel your arousal making a complete mess of him while dripping down your thighs, and the noises that were produced from his cock penetrating your cunt had both of you completely, and utterly turned on.

“Sweet little pussy splitting itself open just for me,” Harry rambled aimlessly as he kept up his movements. “You said it yourself, it had never been properly taken care of until me. Isn’t that right?”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded, jaw slack as you let Harry use your body for both of your pleasures.

Smirking softly, he knew you were blissed out from what he was giving you, and he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek as he moved one leg to have his foot against the mattress - snapping his hips against your ass that much harder.

“Oh, fuck me,” you mewled, earning yourself another slap to one of the rounds of your ass. “I’m gonna come.”

“Yeah? Been hardly giving it to you, and you’re already going to cream over my cock?”

His words pushed you over the edge, and you could feel your orgasm not only coating him, but also spraying against the inside of your legs.

“That’s it, baby,” Harry praised you. “Good girl spraying all over me - getting us all wet. Filthiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

Your toes curled as his thick cock rode you through the aftershocks of your climax, and you threw your hands behind you to grip to the back of his thighs - causing your torso to hover over the bed.

“Oh, that’s how you want it?” Harry clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. “You want it harder?”

“Yes,” you begged, arching your back to feel him even deeper. “Ruin me.”

With Harry’s thumb still satiating your tightest hole, his other hand gripped to the top of your shoulder so he could use that leverage to force you back against his powerful thrusts. Small ‘uh’s of pleasure left you with every clash of skin, and you just knew he was going to have your squirting again.

“Not going to be able to go for much longer, Y/N,” Harry forced out, feeling his own orgasm brewing at the base of his spine. “Feels so fucking good.”

“Give it to me,” you pleaded, nails digging into his skin. “I need you to come in me, and make sure you push it up in there. Let me keep it. Let me keep you.”

Harry felt his abs clenching at those words, and it was as if they triggered that build up he had been fighting against to try and last as long as possible to completely crumble. His come began to pour into you, and he kept up his heavy thrusts to fuck it as far up into you as he could - just like you asked.

The feeling of his orgasm coating your walls had you coming once again, and you felt yourself spraying even more as Harry removed his thumb from your ass.

“Fuck yes,” he gasped, your squirt coating his abdomen. “So good, baby. So fucking good.”

Harry worked the two of you through your highs as much as he could before he was collapsing against your back - the two of you buckling down against the mattress. He stayed inside of you, not wanting to leave the warmth that was your delicious cunt just yet.

Once he gave himself a moment to catch his breath, he sat up to carefully flip you over - all while still sheathed inside.

“Harry,” the way you said his name had his eyes snapping up to meet yours, and that’s when he saw the tears of both pleasure and sorrow filling your own. “Please don’t leave me.”

The knot that began to form in Harry’s throat grew fast, and eventually he too had tears coating his cheeks. “I don’t want to. I want to stay here with you - where I feel safe.”

Your arms reached up to wrap around his neck, and you pulled him tight against you.

“I would always keep you safe,” you whispered as you ran your hands through his sweaty curls. “My sweet boy. I want nothing more than to have you forever.”

Harry whimpered as he shoved his face into the side of your neck. “I-I love you, Y/N,” he sobbed as he gripped to your ribcage. “I love you.”

Your chest jumped as a sob of your own bounced off the walls surrounding you. “I love you too, Harry. I love you so much.”

━◦○◦━◦○◦━

Three months. It had been three months since you last saw, or even heard, from Harry.

After giving yourselves over to each other one last time, and confessing your love for one another, he collected his bag…and he left.

And today - today had to be the hardest day of them all.

You knew it was his wedding day, no matter how hard you tried to push it from your mind. It was all you could think about as you sat on your couch. You couldn’t bring yourself to turn on the TV, or to put on some music.

You just stared at the wall as you allowed your mind to be completely consumed by him.

It was self-inflicted torture as this point, but you couldn’t force yourself to think of anything else.

You had hoped that the absence of him would cause your thoughts of him to dwindle, as well as the hold he had on your heart, however, that wasn’t the case. You missed him more than you ever thought you could.

Your friends didn’t see you anymore, and you were barely making it by at work. You were a shell of your former self.

For the longest time you had wished that he had forgotten something of his behind, but now you’re glad that he hadn’t. You didn’t know how you would’ve reacted if you had found a stray shirt, or a misplaced sock. You’re sure that it would’ve been the cause of a whole new spiral.

The only piece you had left that reminded you that what you had was real, was the postcard from Hawaii that you had tacked to the cork board by the desk in your room. He had gone on a business trip with her and her father, as well as his father, and he was gone for almost a month.

You were shocked when you received it in the mail two weeks after he had left, and the message he scribbled onto the card made you smile.

‘Currently staying on one of the most beautiful islands in the world, but all I can think about is you. I wish you were here with me. I can’t wait to come home and be with you again.

xo - H’

You knew he hated that stupid arranged relationship with her, but you couldn’t believe he had sent that postcard because the two of you had only been secretly seeing each other for a little less than six months. What you thought was just going to be a one night stand after pulling the hottest guy at the bar turned into quick hookups, and weekends together when she was out of town.

There was a strong part of you that knew you couldn’t keep doing this to yourself, but you just couldn’t find it in yourself to let go. 

━◦○◦━◦○◦━

As you blinked your eyes open, you weren’t sure what time it was when you had managed to cry yourself to sleep on your couch. Your eyes fluttered shut again with a hum, and that’s when you registered your head was against a hard surface while fingers were threading through your hair.

You sat up quickly, and your lips parted when you saw Harry sitting next to you on the couch - fully decked out in a suit.

“Harry,” you croaked. Your throat was raw from all the crying you had done.

“Hi, baby,” Harry sent you a soft smile with tears in his eyes as he cupped the side of your neck - thumb grazing your jawline. 

Your eyes darted down to his left hand that still sat in his lap, and you braced yourself at the fact that you were going to see a gold band wrapped around his ring finger.

But it wasn’t there.

Gasping, you looked back to his face, and you watched as his eyebrows furrowed together. “I couldn’t do it.”

“What do you mean?” All logic escaped you, still completely overwhelmed at the fact that he was here in front of you again. 

“The wedding. The marriage. The whole fucking relationship,” Harry shook his head. “I couldn’t do it anymore. I…I left her at the altar, and I came straight here. Let myself in using your spare key when you didn’t answer. I got scared.”

Your heart was now pounding in your chest as you registered what he was telling you.

He wasn’t married. And he wasn’t hers anymore.

“Harry,” you repeated, reaching out to cradle his face in your hands - thumbing at his cheeks as if you were making sure he was actually here. “You came back.”

“I should’ve never left, Y/N,” Harry licked over his bottom lip. “I was an idiot, and I would understand if you never forgave me, but I had to come and see you. I’ve missed you so much.”

You pushed yourself onto your knees as you closed the space between the two of you, and you lowered your thumb down to press the pad of it against his bottom lip.

“I want to be upset,” you confessed. “And I know I should feel more angry than I am, but I’m not. I’m just so happy you’re here. I haven’t stopped thinking about you once, and it wasn’t for lack of trying.”

You both chuckled sadly as Harry’s hands came up to rest on your hips. “I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to scream at me. I’d let you yell at me every day, and tell me how much of an asshole I am if it would make you feel better.”

“No,” you shook your head. “No, it doesn’t matter now. You’re here. We’re together.”

“Together,” Harry confirmed with a nod.

“I love you,” you whispered as you dropped your forehead against his.

“I love you too.”

And then finally, the feeling that you had yearned for for weeks now was once again yours. Heart shaped lips pressed against your own, and you allowed the sensation to take you over completely.

Harry was here. And he was yours.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━

Taglist: @daydreamingofmatilda @prettygurl-2009 @ghoststyles @lillefroe @gem1712 (if you’d like to be added to my taglist, please send me a DM!)

[stylesloveclub]

sunshine (part 1)

In which Harry's a dick and y/n is a virgin who cries a lot.

˙· .° ｡  ˚ ｡  ° . · ˚ ˙ · . ° ｡ ˚ ｡  ° . · ˙ · .° ｡ ˚ ｡ °.  · ˙ ‧̍̊  

Y/n wonders if she thinks too highly of herself.

She thinks she’s pretty. Not in an obnoxious, self-obsessed way! She knows she’s not a supermodel, and she definitely has a lot of days where she looks and feels totally dead – but at the end of the day, she’s not hideous. She splurges on pretty makeup products, does her hair in the mornings, spends a decent amount of time planning out cute outfits… you know, little things to make herself feel pretty!

She brushes her teeth twice a day, showers regularly, flosses. Wears pretty perfumes that smell like flowers and lip gloss that tastes like strawberries. There’s a stash of gum in her bag that she’s always chewing on, so she knows she doesn’t have bad breath; and she carries an extra deodorant in her backpack too, so you can’t tell her she’s repulsive or anything like that. 

She’s kind. She smiles at strangers and always laughs at people’s jokes (even if they aren’t funny)— holds the elevator door open and says a polite “good morning” or “hello!” with her happy, cheery voice. And even though she’s a bit shy, she tries her best to spread love and kindness in the world. It just makes her happy to make other people happy!

Plus, being nice means that everyone else is nicer to you. So even if she’s in a bad mood, she’ll fake a smile and pretend like she’s happy y/n.

But, she wonders... if she has all of these amazing qualities– if she really is as pretty and kind and wonderful as she makes herself out to be– then why hasn’t she been kissed yet?

She loves her friends, of course she does! But how is she so different from them? Why do all of her friends get asked out on dates and have amazing boyfriends while she’s still a lonely virgin who hasn’t even been kissed yet? 

It’s not like she’s this super virginal person who gets grossed out by boys! She wants to be kissed, she wants to get fucked! She’s toyed around with the idea of just downloading tinder and losing it all to some stranger in one night stand, but her romantic heart just can’t stand the thought of it. 

Yes, she’s desperate… but she’s also romantic. Love is on her mind 24/7. It’s what she thinks about before she falls asleep, what she daydreams about whenever she gets bored. She could spend hours with a romance novel, hyper fixating on the little things that most people wouldn’t blink an eye at. The way the boy’s hand cupped the girl’s jaw while they kissed, or how their fingers brushed as they walked down the street. Little things like forehead kisses and prolonged glances across a room. 

She craves it for herself, desperately aches for the affection that she reads of. She wants to rest her head on someone’s chest and listen to their heartbeat as she falls asleep, feel their fingers playing with her hair, or their lips skimming her cheek. Wants to laugh under the covers and share secrets and be vulnerable and in love. She wants it more than anything in the world! 

And yet, she hasn’t even been kissed! 

Everyone else seems to do it so easily – find a nice guy, go out on a date, and fall in love. So why is it so hard for her? Her friends tell her that she's the prettiest and sweetest girl out there, and that the right guy simply hasn’t come around yet… but y/n can’t help but think, is any of it true?

Is she even that pretty? Is she actually likable?

What’s wrong with her?

˙· .° ｡  ˚ ｡  ° . · ˚ ˙ · . ° ｡ ˚ ｡  ° . · ˙ · .° ｡ ˚ ｡ °.  · ˙ ‧̍̊  

Harry hates these stupid college parties.

They’re loud and stuffy, with way too many people crammed into one room for his liking. The alcohol is cheap, the music is annoying. The entire apartment smells like weed, and there’s not even a secluded corner for him to mope around in without some group of drunk girls completely invading his personal space. Everything about these parties sucks.

If he could, he’d leave. But he’s meant to give a ride home to his roomie Blake, and Blake’s currently hooking up with the host of this party. 

So Harry’s stuck here. Great. 

He checks his phone, and it’s nearly midnight. Blake should be done soon, right? The blonde girl who’s been talking to him for the past 20 minutes is getting awfully close, her hand trailing on his biceps and migrating towards his chest, and she’s blinking up at him with fluttery bambi eyes. 

Any other night and Harry might be into whatever this girl is hinting at, but he’s 100% sober and 100% not in the mood to hook up with a girl who’s taken one too many shots. He grabs the girl's hands and peels them off of his chest gently, muttering something about needing to use the restroom (he doesn’t even need to use the bathroom, he just needs a minute away from the pounding music). 

He sends her off in the direction of her friends, who are giggling to each other in a corner across the room and not-so-inconspicuously checking to see if their friend has managed to successfully get with Harry. He’s sure they’ve realized that he rejected her when they all glare at him. Sorry to disappoint, he thinks to himself. 

He’s nearly positive that any bathrooms in this shitty college apartment will probably be occupied, either with someone throwing up all the drinks they’ve had or with a couple hooking up. But no harm in trying anyway. 

The first door that he tries to open is locked. The second door opens up to reveal a coat closet. 

The third door however, opens up to a bedroom. 

The walls are decorated with posters and pictures, fairy lights hanging from the ceiling, and tiny pots of succulents placed all over the room… but the one thing that stands out the most is the overwhelming number of books scattered all over the room. There’s a bookshelf on each wall, cluttered with books of all colors and sizes. Stacks of books lie on the nightstand by the bed, a stray book sits on top of a dresser, and a pile of new, untouched books sits pristinely in the far right corner of the room. 

Books, books, and more books all over the room. And, a book in the hands of a girl sitting quietly in her bed, staring at Harry. 

Dressed in a hoodie and some fuzzy pj pants, the book that she’d once held up closely to her face now rests on her lap as she blinks up at this strange intruder. She sits upright, closing the book but sticking her finger between the pages so that she doesn’t lose her place. “Um… hi?” she says quietly. 

He steps into the room, and looks at her blankly. “Hi.” She blinks at him. “S’this room taken?” he asks.

“Um. Well,” she looks at him curiously. “No, I guess not.” 

“Okay, good,” he responds, quickly closing the door behind him. He sits on a spinny chair that he pulls out from under a desk and leans his head back, letting out a deep sigh of relief. 

The girl, with her finger still lodged between her book, stares at him confused. Who is this guy? 

He’s cute, and she’s mildly embarrassed that he’s come into her room when she’s looking so… sleepy. But he also seems kinda grumpy and is obviously not in the mood to talk. He’s leaning back in her chair and closing his eyes, gently rubbing his temples as if he’s meditating. 

She observes him with wide eyes. Then after a minute of silence she awkwardly picks her book back up and tries to resume reading. 

Kinda hard to do with some random guy sitting in her bedroom, though. 

In this secluded bedroom, the sound of the music has decreased dramatically. Harry’s pounding headache starts to fade away, and he feels himself start to relax for the first time since he arrived at this stupid party. He looks around the room that he so luckily stumbled into. 

The desk in front of him is, to no surprise, cluttered with more books. A laptop is plugged in in front of him, and there’s a cup full of colorful pens and markers sitting against the wall. Hanging on the wall is a string of pictures starring the same girl with different groups of people. 

He looks at the pictures hanging from the walls. Then he looks back at the girl laying in the bed. 

“S’this your room?” he asks, finally connecting the dots.

She looks up from the book again and nods. 

“Oh,” he hums, surprised. He supposes he should’ve realized it as soon as he walked in. Girl in a room full of books, reading a book. Face clean of all makeup, snuggled up in a blanket, nice and comfy as though she’s just about ready for bed. It’s a bit silly that he only made the connection once he saw her pictures up on the walls. “Why aren’t you out there partying?” 

“Um… not really my scene,” she says, closing the book and looking at Harry properly. Her nose scrunches up, “And it smells really bad in there.”

“Jesus, tell me about it,” he groans. “Could hardly breathe in there. In fact–” he says, already standing up, “d’ya mind if we open up a window? Still feels stuffy in here.” 

She shows no resistance as he slides the window open, accepting the fact that she’d be sharing her room with this stranger until the party was over. Harry sticks his head out and takes a deep breath of the cool, fresh air. Much better than the sweaty, smoky, sickly smell going on inside the apartment. 

When he turns back around, the girl has rearranged herself. She sits criss-crossed on her bed and looks up at Harry, fidgeting nervously with her lip bitten between her teeth. 

She’s kind of cute. 

Harry breaks the silence again. “I think your roommate is hooking up with my roommate right now.” 

“Oh.” She blinks. “Is your roommate Blake?” 

He nods.

“Yeah, Maddie’s been saying that she, um… you know,” she looks down at her hands as they play with a loose thread on the hem of her pants. “Wants to hook up with him or whatever.” 

He nods his head, leaning back against her wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest. As refreshing as the air is, the night time breeze is cold. 

“No offense,” he says, “But you don’t seem like you’d be friends with Maddie.” Maddie (y/n’s roommate) has jet black hair, wears heavy eyeliner and black lipstick everyday, and is at least a little bit high 90% of the time. Y/n, in comparison, has flowery bed sheets, a stuffed bunny tucked in next to her, and is hiding in her bedroom while a party being thrown in her own apartment. 

She just smiles softly. “Yeah, we met online. But she’s really nice.” 

He raises his eyebrow. “She seems like a bitch.” 

She defends her roommate immediately. “She’s not a bitch!” But then she thinks about it for a second. Maddie can definitely come off a bit… harsh at times. “Well… she’s usually really nice to me, at least.” 

That makes sense. It would be very hard to be mean to this girl, he imagines. She’s too nice. It would be like being mean to a puppy or something. 

Good thing Harry isn’t mean. He’s just… a bit of a grump. 

She taps her fingers against the cover of her book awkwardly, staring at Harry as he looks up to her ceiling and closes his eyes. He just wants to be in his bed right now. 

After a few more minutes of silence, Harry pushes himself off the wall. “I think Blake should be done,” he says, checking the time on his phone. “I’m going to leave now.” 

“Okay,” says the girl quietly. She watches as he leaves with a nod of his head, and shuts the door behind him. 

That was weird, she thinks. 

Whatever, though. She opens her book and forgets about it. 

+++

Don’t people say that drowsy driving is just as bad as drunk driving? What constitutes drowsy driving? Should y/n even be out on the road right now?

She doesn’t know. All she knows is that Maddie woke her up with a phone call at 2 AM, asking if y/n would come pick her up from Blake’s apartment cause she was too high to get back on her own and she doesn’t want to stay the night there. 

Y/n, being the sweetheart that she is, obviously wants her roommate to get back safe. So she’s in her car, at 2 AM, yawning every three seconds as she drives to the location Maddie sent her.

She texts Maddie from the car, but Maddie doesn’t respond. She calls her, then sends another text, but still no answer. After 10 minutes of no response, she goes up to the door and knocks. 

Maddie doesn’t answer. Instead, it’s Harry.

His eyebrows furrow as recognizes the girl from that party he’d been at two weeks ago. She looks just as comfortable as she did then, in a big pink hoodie and a pair of sweats. “What are you doing here?” he asks, his voice confused and his eyes doubting. Not many people come knocking at his door at 2 AM.

Unlike y/n, who looks like she just rolled out of bed and drove here (that is exactly what she did), Harry looks like he’s been up all night (he’s been playing COD). He’s not wearing a shirt and has a pair of sweats slung low on his hips, showing off a chiseled abdomen that acts as a canvas for a multitude of pretty tattoos. Y/n finds herself staring at the swallows that lie under his collarbones, the butterfly painted above his stomach, and the ferns lining a yummy pair of v-lines that point downwards… she swallows thickly and forces herself to look away. 

“Um,” she covers her mouth as she yawns, hiding her cold fingers with the sleeves of her hoodie, “Maddie needed me to drive her home.” She blinks sleepily, and can’t even bring herself to be embarrassed that she looks so dead.

“It’s 2 in the morning,” he scoffs. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

She blinks sleepily again. “I was.” 

Harry rolls his eyes. If it were him, he would not have gotten up and driven all the way over here. Someone else’s problems are not enough to get him out of bed. But, this girl… she’s too nice. 

He leaves her at the door and goes to Blake’s room, pounding on the door rudely. “Hey!” he yells, irritation evident in his tone, “your roommate’s here.” 

He hears a bit of shuffling, before Maddie stumbles out of Blake’s room, makeup askew and clothing only half on. She giggles up at Harry and apologizes playfully, but he just glares at her. Her eyes are glazed over and the whites of her eyes bloodshot, very obviously high if the way she couldn’t walk straight wasn’t enough of an indication. 

He feels bad for the stupid girl who drove all the way over here in the middle of the night because her roommate wanted to get high.

Maddie trips over her own feet and falls into y/n, who uses all of her strength to keep her roommate upright and walks her slowly down to the car. “Are you feeling okay?” Harry hears her ask quietly. He scoffs to himself.

He doesn’t get it. How the fuck has this girl not lost her shit? Her irresponsible roommate woke her up at 2 am and made her drive all the way to some stranger’s house, and yet she still manages to be so… gentle. So kind, to someone who barely even deserves it. So caring, to someone who seems to care so little. 

As y/n helps Maddie get into the car, she looks back up to the apartment and sees Harry watching them from the doorstep. They make eye contact for a few seconds, his eyebrows furrowed as he leans against the doorframe. His gaze makes her heart stutter, a chill running down her spine. He looks… upset. Almost like he’s mad at her.

It makes her frown. She wants to say something to him, apologize for ruining his night… but then Maddie sticks her head out of the car and vomits. 

Harry shakes his head and turns away. 

That girl is too nice for her own good. 

+++

“Hey.” Blake pokes his head into Harry’s room, where Harry’s busy playing a round on his computer, “Do you mind if Maddie and her friend come over?”

“Don’t care,” Harry mumbles, uninterested, not looking away from his game. 

“Sick,” he turns around to go back into his own room, but stops when Harry suddenly pauses his game and calls out to him.

“Who’s the friend?” Harry asks, turning around. 

“Y/n,” Blake answers. Harry stares at him, his brows furrowed. The name doesn’t ring a bell. “Her roommate.” 

“That quiet girl?” Harry clarifies.

“Yeah, that one.” 

Oh. So her name was y/n. 

Good to know. 

+++

It’s dark out when Harry finally turns off his game, sliding his headset off and stretching his back. He lets out a long groan as he feels his spine crack, a delicious feeling after being hunched over his controller for three hours straight. 

Standing up, he scratches at his stomach lazily, throwing his headset onto his chair. His arms feel a bit sore, having been to the gym earlier that day, and his hair is still wet from when he showered. He puts on a sweatshirt, finding his apartment too cold to be roaming around shirtless, and heads to the kitchen to find something to eat. 

He stops in his tracks when he finds y/n sitting in his living room all alone. 

She’s got a book in her hands, a thick, worn-out novel that looks older than herself. She’s sitting comfortably on their couch with her legs tucked underneath her butt, so engulfed in whatever she’s reading that she doesn’t even realize that she’s not alone anymore. 

It’s the first time he’s ever seen her outside of her sleep attire. She’s wearing a pair of loose, comfy looking corduroy pants, and a tight top that cuts off just below her ribs. Her chest rises and falls steadily, eyes skimming across the pages of her book so quickly that he wonders if she’s actually absorbing any of the words or not. She chews on her lip as she reads, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. 

When Harry finally speaks, it makes her jump in her place. “Where are Blake and Maddie?”

Her book nearly falls out of her hands as she whips her head around. When she sees it’s him, she relaxes. “Oh. Um,”  she sits upright, closing her book, “They’re in his room.”

He nods slowly, squinting his eyes. There’s no nice way to ask his next question, so he just spits it out bluntly. “Why’d you come over if you’re just sitting out here while they hook up?” 

She tucks her hair behind her ear nervously, feeling a little shy under his intimidating gaze. “Maddie was my ride to campus today. And she wanted to stop by here before we went home.” She shrugs quietly, “So I kinda had no choice.”

He huffs. Of course. 

Y/n says that Maddie’s nice, but Harry really doesn’t like her. How weird is it to drag your friend somewhere just to have them sit alone while you go hook up with someone? 

“How long have you guys been here?” he asks.

“Like, an hour.”

“So you’ve been sitting around doing nothing for an hour?”

She pouts. “I had my book.”

He blinks. She just sat here reading for an hour, while her roommate abandoned her to go hookup with Blake… and she’s okay with it? 

She is too nice for her own good. 

“Do y’want some pizza?” he asks, already opening the freezer.

Normally, y/n would say no. She’s kind of an unwelcome guest and she doesn’t want to be a burden on Harry. But… she hasn’t had anything since breakfast. And Maddie still hasn’t come out. She’s kind of starving.

“What kind?” she asks politely.

“Umm… cheese or pepperoni.” 

“I don’t like pepperoni,” she confesses shyly. “But also I could just pick it off if you want pepperoni. Whatever you want.” 

He rolls his eyes, shoving the pepperoni pizza back into the freezer. He wants to scream at her to stop being so nice! Stop being so considerate and just say what you want!

He puts it in the oven to bake, setting a timer for 15 minutes, then takes a moment to contemplate his next move. He could either go back into his room, where he could lie in bed and nap until the pizza was ready… or he could stay in here and sit awkwardly on the couch so that y/n wouldn’t be all alone. 

99% of him wants to just go back into his room where he can be grumpy and alone in peace… but then he looks over at y/n, who’s sitting on the couch all by herself. She looks so uncomfortable and out of place, tracing her thumb over the raised up font on the hardcover in her hands.

The 1% of him that feels bad for her wins. He sits down next to her on the couch. 

He nods his head towards the worn out book, which looks thicker than anything he’s ever read. “Are you reading the fuckin’ bible?” 

“No,” she shakes her head, laughing to herself quietly. She runs her fingers over the grooves of the title, a feeling so familiar that it comforts her when she’s feeling so out of place. “It’s Wuthering Heights.” 

He furrows his brow. “Never heard of it.” 

“It’s good,” she says. “Kinda dense, but I’ve already read it a few times. It’s one of my favorites.” 

He nods again, tapping his fingers on his thighs as silence overtakes the apartment once more. He looks around the living room, trying to find something else to say. 

Y/n’s heart pitter patters in her chest nervously. She can’t help but feel a bit nervous around Harry. She’s pretty shy in general, and Harry’s stoic demeanor certainly doesn’t help her relax. Her voice is quiet as she asks, “Um… what’s your major?” A feeble attempt on her end at a conversation. 

“Math.” 

“Just math?” she parrots.

“Mhm,” he cracks his knuckles. “Pure math.” 

She huffs out a quiet breath, a pout on her lips. “I’m in a math class right now.” Her fingers pick at a piece of fuzz that’s stuck on the couch. “Calc 1. It’s really hard.”

“Mm, yeah.” Harry hums, “Took that during my first year.” 

She looks at him with wide eyes, “Did you pass?” 

He holds back a smile. It’s amusing, how earnestly she’s asking him – a math major – if he passed Calculus 1. That class was generally easy for him, mostly just beginner stuff compared to the math he does now that he’s in his third year. But he doesn’t say that. “Yeah, I did,” he says simply, not wanting to make her feel bad.

She nods, looking back down at her book. “I’m kinda scared. Our first midterm was really hard.” 

He hums sympathetically. Even though it was easy for him, he knows that calc class is infamously hard for others – especially for those who aren’t math inclined like himself. “How about you? What’s your major?” 

His legs are spread apart so that he takes up nearly half the couch, whereas y/n sits curled up on the other corner, trying to take up as little space as possible. “Bio,” she readjusts herself so that she’s sitting crisscrossed, her book still clutched to her chest protectively. “With a concentration in ecology.” 

Ew. He hates biology. Actually… he hates everything except math. Math is easy for him. 

The oven beeps. A rush of relief fills his chest, finally free from this awkward conversation, and he eagerly abandons y/n on the couch to get the pizza out. He’s hungry, starving, and doesn’t bother with a plate or anything before grabbing a slice and shoving it in his mouth. 

“Come have some,” he mumbles, mouth full.

She timidly walks over to the kitchen counter that he’s standing at, wiping her sweaty hands on her pants, and takes a slice as well. Blowing on it, she takes a much smaller bite than Harry did since it’s still so hot. She doesn’t know how he managed to already finish a whole slice. 

Now that they can focus on eating their food, there’s no need for any more small talk. They eat comfortably in silence, only acknowledging each other when y/n asks for a napkin. He nods towards one of the drawers, asking her to grab him one too, and then they’re back to eating in silence. 

Blake and Maddie burst out of his room a few minutes later.

“Harry made dinner!” exclaims Blake, coming over and reaching for a slice of pizza. 

Harry yanks the tray out of his reach. “Get your own pizza,” he mumbles, putting the pizza back down in front of y/n. He looks at her, and nods his head towards the pizza, inviting her to take another slice. 

Maddie stops her before she can reach for a second slice. “Ready to go?” she asks. 

Y/n nods, wiping her hands on a napkin. “Thanks for the pizza,” she whispers to Harry, quiet enough so that only he hears. 

“Yeah,” is all he says. He barely looks at her, too busy scarfing down his third (maybe fourth) slice. 

She grabs her stuff and follows Maddie out of the boys apartment. 

+++

“Hey!” Maddie pushes her way through the stuffed apartment, reaching her hand out towards y/n. “Listen, I’m gonna go home with Blake.”

“W-What?” Y/n’s head is foggy, her brain a little clouded from the few drinks that she’s had. Y/n doesn’t normally drink, so the little bit of alcohol in her system has had its intended effect and gone a bit further as well – her cheeks are warm, and she feels the world sway a little bit as she looks up at Maddie with a pout. “But– but what about me?”

Normally, y/n stays home whenever Maddie wants to go out and party. She prefers the comfort of her own bed and hates the anxiety she feels when she’s drunk and wobbly and surrounded by a bunch of strangers. But Maddie had assured her that they’d be together all night, that she’d take care of her if she got drunk, and that she’d drive them home whenever y/n wanted to leave.

She’s broken all three of those promises. 

When they got to the party, Maddie abandoned her as soon as she saw Blake across the room. Luckily, y/n saw some of her own friends that she was able to hang out with, some girls from her ecology class who gave her a yummy strawberry smirnoff. They talked and laughed and y/n was having a good time, slowly but surely getting a little bit tipsy. The drink was so yummy, and Maddie wasn’t there to keep an eye on her, so she didn’t realize that she’d gone a bit over her tolerance. 

She’s a bit tipsier than she’d like to be in a public setting, surrounded with people she doesn’t know, and it’s too dark outside for her to get home safely on her own. And now… Maddie wants to abandon her? For Blake? 

“Don’t worry!” Maddie exclaims, completely disregarding the worry flickering in y/n’s glazed eyes. “I’ll order you an uber home!” 

Y/n bites her lip nervously. An uber? At this time of night, when she’s all drunk and stumbling around like a sad little baby deer?

“Um… can’t you take me home before you go with Blake?” 

Maddie rolls her eyes, “come on, really? I’ll pay for the uber. It'll be fine.” 

Y/n’s heart beats loudly in her chest, “I-I’m scared of going by myself, Maddie. I think I had too much to drink, I don’t feel safe.”

Her roommate purses her lips in a firm line, as if she’s annoyed. She looks around the apartment, tapping her foot impatiently, then she lights up with an idea. “Stay here,” she tells y/n. 

“Harry!” Maddie calls out, making her way back to the other side of the apartment. “Hey, Harry!” 

He’s sitting on a couch, next to a pretty girl in a tight black dress who has her legs splayed across his lap comfortably. There’s a furrow in his brow that makes him look pissed off, but his hand rests very comfortably on this girl's thigh and he makes no objections as she plays with the collar of his shirt. His head whips over to Maddie as she tramples her way over to him.

“What is it?” he snaps, voice closed off and irritated. 

“Can you drive y/n home?” 

He blinks. “Huh?” 

“Can you drive y/n home??” she says again, frustrated.

“Why?” 

“Cause I’m going over to your apartment with Blake and she needs a ride home.” 

He stares at Maddie unbelievingly, and peers over at y/n, who’s sitting all alone on the other side of the apartment. Her lips are pouted sadly, staring down at the floor with a far off look in her eyes. 

“Why can’t you take her home?” he grumbles, looking up at Maddie with a glare in his eye.

She huffs, impatiently stomping her foot. “Cause I’m going home with Blake right now! Come on Harry, it’s not that far! Please?” 

He shakes his head. “Fuckin’ unbelieveable,” he mutters under his breath, pushing the girl off of him as he stands up. 

“Thank you,” she sighs, dragging him behind her. “Y/n,” Maddie says, stopping in front of her. “Harry’s gonna drive you home.” 

She looks up, eyes wide and round. “H-Harry?”

“Yes,” she says harshly, “you guys are friends, aren’t you?”

“Um…” y/n doesn’t know what to say. She wouldn’t necessarily consider them friends just because they shared a pizza. 

Her night out with Maddie was meant to be fun, but right now, she just feels abandoned and kinda scared. And Harry doesn’t seem too happy about this either, which makes her feel even worse.

“Lets go,” he snaps, jaw clenching tightly as he swings his car keys around his index finger. She flinches at his tone and digs her nails into her palms nervously. 

She’s trapped. It’s either Harry takes her home, or she takes an uber all by herself. And she’s too scared to get home alone right now. 

With a final look towards Maddie, who stares back at her dismissively and shoos her towards Harry, she stands up shakily and follows Harry out of the crowded apartment. 

The air outside is much colder than the apartment, goosebumps immediately rising on y/n’s skin and making her shiver. Harry doesn’t acknowledge the way she stumbles over her feet, walking ahead of her briskly. She’s forced to keep herself composed, wrapping her arms around herself to keep warm and nearly jogging to keep up with Harry’s long strides. 

He unlocks his car doors and gets into the driver’s seat. Y/n opens the passenger’s side door for herself and takes a seat, buckling herself in quietly.

Turning on the car, he notices the way her arms are tightly crossed in front of her chest. He turns up the heat, and pulls out of the parking lot. 

They play no music and say nothing, driving in silence.

“Sorry you have to drive me home,” she says faintly after a few minutes. 

His turn signal blinks softly. “Can’t believe your roommate just left you,” he mutters irritatedly. 

She says nothing in response. She stares out the window, a lump in her throat as the drive past the streets of college houses and apartments. The red light they stop at and the name of the streets go blurry from the tears gathering at her waterline. She sniffles softly.

Harry whips his head to her. “Why are you crying?”

Her lower lip wobbles as the first tear falls from her lashes. She wipes it away quickly. “I don’t know,” is all she says with a watery voice.

He stares at her befuddled, brows furrowed and eyes a piercing green, but she refuses to meet his gaze. She just looks outside the window in a melancholy haze, lost in thought, eyes unfocused as tears drip down her face silently. 

He sighs deeply and taps his fingers against the steering wheel, praying for the red light to turn green so that he can get this girl home as soon as possible. 

+++

When they arrive at her place, he sits in his car and watches as she stumbles up the steps of her apartment. She mumbled out a soft thank you through her tears and managed to climb out of his car smoothly, but the way she wobbles on her feet makes Harry worry that he shouldn’t leave until he’s sure she got in.

She stands in front of her door for a solid two minutes, trying to find her keys, and Harry taps his fingers against his thigh impatiently. When she finally finds them, she struggles to fit the key in the lock, hands shaky and her vision still blurred from the tears. Aaaand then she drops them. 

Harry sighs and puts the car in park. By the time she’s picked the keys back up, Harry’s already gotten out of his car and reached the top step. He takes the keys from her and easily unlocks her door. “In,” he mutters, ushering her into her apartment impatiently. 

He follows her into her bathroom and turns the light on for her. Their eyes meet in the mirror as he asks, “can you get yourself ready for bed?”

She nods, looking down at the ground sheepishly as he leaves her to take off her makeup and brush her teeth. She opts to skip her skincare routine and doesn’t even bother with putting her jewelry back in her jewelry box, simply just leaving her earrings on her bathroom counter to deal with tomorrow. 

Harry’s probably gone back down to his car by now, she thinks. It’s so embarrassing, how he had to drive her home and guide her into her bathroom. He seemed annoyed with her. He probably thought she was so messy – an annoying, overdramatic girl who started crying in his car for no reason. 

More tears bubble in her tears as the hot wave of embarrassment washes over her. She was such a mess, of course she’s never been in a relationship. Nobody would want to date someone like her. 

She takes off her clothes and whips off her bra, sniffling to herself sadly. Slipping on her favorite sweatshirt, a huge pink one that goes down to her mid thighs and covers her hands, she uses the sleeves to wipe away the excess tears in her eyes. She stumbles over herself a bit and bangs her foot against her dresser as she reaches for a pair of sleep shorts and it only makes her want to cry even harder. Drunk y/n is extra emotional, and every little thing is sending over the edge. 

As she’s stepping into her pair of sleep shorts, her bedroom door opens, Harry walking in with a glass of water in one hand and a pill bottle in the other. She trips over herself as she tries to pull her clothes on as soon as possible, but it just makes her lose balance and stumble to the side. His eyes widen and he turns around quickly, muttering a quick fuck to himself. 

“Sorry,” he mutters. “Are you decent?”

Y/n regains her composure, cheeks burning as she pulls her shorts over her hips. This night could not be going any worse. “Yeah,” she says quietly. She hopes it’s dark enough in the room so that he doesn’t see her flaming cheeks and puffy eyes. 

He turns around and hands her the water, which she immediately starts chugging down. She didn’t realize how thirsty she’d been until she’d seen the glass in Harry’s large, tattooed hand. 

“Slow down,” he grunts. He pops open the pill bottle and takes out one Advil for her. “Take this.” 

She grabs the pill from him obediently and swallows it down with the rest of her water. Then she looks up at him, as if waiting for his next instructions. 

“Bed,” he says, nodding his head towards her daisy printed sheets. She goes to climb in but trips over her shoe that she’d messily discarded on the floor. Harry grabs her waist before she can fall to the floor though. 

“Jesus,” he murmurs. This was like the seventh time she’s almost fallen over tonight. Is she always this clumsy or was it the drinks? 

He grabs her hand and physically guides her into her bed, making sure she lays down properly and lifting the sheets for her to climb under. Grabbing her ankle, he literally has to guide her under the blanket, then lets the duvet fall over her gracefully. 

“All good?” he asks, once she’s tucked nicely into her bed, teeth brushed and medicine taken so that she wouldn’t wake up feeling gross tomorrow. 

She looks up at him, eyes no longer tear filled but still clearly sad. “Yeah..” she says quietly, however her eyes flicker around her room as if she’s searching for something. 

He furrows his brows, and glances in the direction her eyes have landed. A stuffed bunny lies on the floor next to the shoe that she tripped over. He bends over and picks it up, handing it to her questioningly. She takes the bunny and snuggles it into her neck, eyes fluttering as if she can finally relax. “Thanks,” she whispers. 

Harry nods curtly and heads for the door. When he turns around one final, y/n is watching him with sleepy eyes. “Bye, Harry,” she squeaks out. 

He stares at her for a second. “Bye.” Then he closes the door behind himself.

+++

Y/n wakes up with a pounding headache and an upset tummy.

That was mortifying. 

She’s never gonna be able to face Harry again. He was so annoyed with her, she just knows it! The way she dragged him away from that party, cried in his car, and tripped over herself like a stupid goat with clanky legs… oh, he probably thinks she’s the worst! 

She wishes she had more control over her emotions, that she could’ve held in the tears until she was alone in her bed… but she just felt so miserable last night. She had wanted to start crying literally when Maddie first yelled at her at the party, but she tried to stay strong. Kept herself together so that she at least didn’t start crying in the middle of a party.

But then… getting in the car with Harry. God. The deafening silence, the irritation radiating off of him… it made her feel terrible. She felt like a nuisance, like an annoyance and a burden. 

And she completely humiliated herself in front of Harry! The cute guy that she maybe sort of had started to have a tiny little crush on, simply because he was cute and mildly nice to her and she has a habit of romanticizing small interactions.  

There was no chance he’d ever want to be in a room with her after this. He probably wants nothing to do with her. 

She stumbles out of her bed and plants her feet on the ground, her head spinning a little bit as she squints her eyes. Her little stuffed bunny has fallen onto the floor again, and she picks it up and places it onto the bed next to herself. She remembers how Harry had picked the bunny up and given it to her before she fell asleep last night, like she was some little kid that he was stuck babysitting. 

Ugh. She’s never going to talk to him again. 

+++

Harry stands outside of his lecture hall, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed angrily. His eyebrows are furrowed in classic Grumpy Harry fashion and his lips are pursed in a disgruntled frown. 

He’s annoyed. 

He stares at y/n, who’s sitting on a bench not too far away. Her tote bag sits on the floor next to her feet and there’s a book in her hand, her finger in between the pages as a temporary bookmark to not lose the page she’s on. 

There’s something about her that just… annoys him so much. He can’t quite explain it.

The way her cheeks dimple as she smiles up at the guy talking to her, tucking her hair behind her ear gently when it falls into her face… it makes his jaw clench angrily as he watches her from a distance. She’s so nice. Too nice. 

She laughs at something the guy she’s talking to says and it makes his stomach feel sour. He doesn’t like it.

Blake’s hand snaps in front of Harry’s face. “Bro. Stop staring.” 

Harry forces his eyes to look away, brows still furrowed grumpily. “Wasn’t staring,” he mumbles, pushing himself off the wall and going into the lecture hall. 

“You were,” he responds, following closely behind. “She’s really nice… I dunno why you hate her.”

“Who says I hate her?” Harry scoffs. “I never talk to her.” Especially as of late, she’s quiet as a mouse around him. He was over at her apartment to pick Blake up the other day and she’d only said a quiet “hi” before scurrying back into her room, like a scared little bunny in the presence of a snake or something. 

“Well… I mean, you could be nicer.”

Harry furrows his brows. “What do you mean?”

Blake hesitates. “Like… I dunno. Maddie says you made her cry.” 

“Huh?” He thinks back to that night… “How was that my fault?” All he’d done was driven her home and tucked her into bed? She just started crying on her own!

“She’s just kind of sensitive,” says Blake. “I know you probably weren’t trying to mean, but you’re definitely not sunshine and rainbows. You’re scary, did y’know that?”

Harry rolls his eyes. Everyone seems to have this preconceived notion that Harry's this huge dick who never smiles… and though it’s true that he rarely smiles in the presence of strangers, he’s not an asshole! He just doesn’t feel like wasting his energy in pretending to like people he doesn’t actually like. Or smile when it’s much more comfortable to furrow his brows and pout grumpily. 

And he finds that usually his grumpy demeanor works in his favor – people stay out of his way, and he gets to avoid the headache that comes with interacting with people. But now this girl… this sunshine girl who always has her nose in a little book and always says please and thank you and is nice to everyone and stumbles over herself like a little puppy who's learning how to walk… she’s gone on and made him feel bad about it. 

How annoying is that? To have the nicest person on the planet think you’re scary?  

“I wasn’t trying to make her cry,” he mutters, irritated. “I didn’t even say anything to her.”

“Well maybe that’s the problem. Like… just try. I think you’ll like her.”

He doesn’t think so. She’s too nice. They probably wouldn’t get along. 

+++

There are three things y/n does a lot.

The first is studying. Her grades come first, always. She’ll be at the library for hours at a time, snuggled up in a booth with an iced coffee and her color coded notes, studying until she can barely keep her eyes open. It’s unhealthy, and she really should take breaks more often… but she just gets really nervous about her grades! 

She’s used to being at the top of her class, and has always been a straight A student.  But recently, she’s been struggling. She’s doing fine in her chemistry class, and absolutely thriving in biology. But calculus… calculus is her worst enemy.

The second thing she does a lot is reading. She’s been a bookworm for as long as she can remember. Her most frequent genre is romance (obviously!), but she’ll dabble a little bit in the popular fantasy series, maybe pick up a thriller every once in a while. And if she’s feeling sophisticated, she’ll try to read one of the classics… something philosophical, like Camus, or maybe something a little heavier, like War and Peace. But those situations are rare. She prefers her little world of romance.

The third thing that y/n does a lot… is cry. 

She’ll cry if she watches a sad movie, she’ll cry over a sad book. She cried when Finnick died in The Hunger Games, and she cried when she finished Of Mice and Men. She cries every single time she watches Pride and Prejudice (2005), sobs her eyes out when Mr. Darcy says, “You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love- I love- I love you.”

She cries if someone yells at her, and she cries if she thinks someone doesn’t like her. She cries almost every time she’s drunk (example: when Harry drove her home), and she cries in the middle of the night when she’s feeling homesick. She cries for no reason when she’s getting close to her period… and sometimes, she cries because she’s just lonely.

Now, you might be thinking… y/n sounds super annoying. But please don’t think that! That would also probably make her cry.

She’s just a tad bit sensitive! She has so many emotions in her little heart, and she’s trying so hard to be responsible and manage life as a young adult but at the end of the day she’s just a girl!!! She’s just a girl, and she’s tired and stressed out and lonely and touch deprived, and sometimes she has a hard time keeping everything together so she just… cries.

If she could control it, she would! Do you really think she wants to be crying in the library? Of course, not! It’s embarrassing, and she’s trying really hard to keep her sniffles quiet and to suck the tears back into her eyeballs… but when she’s sad, she can’t stop the tears.

So now she’s crying in the library. And it’s all because of Issac Newton.

Why did he have to invent calculus? Like, what was even the point? Why did she, as a girl studying ecology, have to take this stupid class?

She buries her face in her arms, the tears unstoppable at this point, and just hopes that anyone walking past will think she’s napping and not crying her eyes out. 

She’d studied really hard for that last midterm. Like– she’d literally been in the library for a week straight, just doing calculus problems over and over again. She went to office hours to get help on all the questions she was stuck on, and was watching the Organic Chemistry Tutor’s videos religiously. She did so much math that she was literally having dreams about doing calculus. 

And yet, even with all of her studying, she still managed to fail the midterm. Like… she seriously failed it. As in, if she doesn’t get an A on the final, she will literally have to retake the class.

She’s so sad. She’s never gotten a grade this low, ever in her life. And she’d tried so hard!!! The morning of the midterm, she’d actually felt confident! She thought she had it in the bag!

She was so, so wrong. 

She feels stupid – not just because she failed the midterm, but because she’s literally having a breakdown about it in the library. 

This is stupid. Everything is stupid. School is stupid, Issac Newton is stupid, calculus is stupid–

“Y/n?” 

Uh oh. She tries to wipe away her tears discreetly, licking her lips and clearing her throat and desperately hoping that it’s not obvious that she’s been crying. 

When she lifts her head, she finds Harry standing in front of her. “Why’re you crying?” he asks bluntly, looking down at her with his brows furrowed.

Ok. So it is obvious.

“Um,” she sniffles, “Hi Harry.” She hopes that maybe if she pretends like everything is fine, then he won’t pry any further. 

It doesn’t work.

“Why are you crying?” he asks again. There’s not much compassion or comfort in his voice. Same old grumpy Harry, so blank and impassive. 

She shrugs her shoulders, feeling small and embarrassed. “I– it’s silly,” she stammers, looking down at her fingers. 

Harry doesn’t say anything, staring at her and waiting for her to continue. 

She swallows thickly. “I failed my midterm,” she whispers, her voice catching as a new lump grows in her throat. 

“How bad?”

One lone tear falls down her face as she shakes her head disappointedly, which she wipes away quickly. “Really bad,” she whimpers. Her cheeks burn hot as she realizes that she can’t hold back the tears any longer. She quickly averts her eyes from him, staring into her lap and hoping that he can’t see her face.

This is the second time he’s seen her cry, which is two times more than she would like. He probably thinks she’s some silly, over emotional girl… probably thinks she’s so annoying. She just wants to curl up in a ball, hide in a dark hole and cry by herself. She can’t handle Harry’s judgment on top of her shitty midterm grade.  

He stands there silently for a moment. Her lower lip has pouted out cutely and he can hear her sniffling quietly. “Was it math?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” she grumbles sadly. Stupid math. 

He hums. After another tense moment he asks, “Do you want help?”

“Help with what?” She stares down at her fingers, her tone dejected. The happy glimmer that usually sparkles in her eye is gone. 

“With math,” he clarifies. “I can help you.”

She looks up at him curiously, still pouting. “You’d help me with math?”

He nods, pulling out the chair next to her. “Let me see your midterm,” he says, nodding his head towards the packet of math problems she’d just been sobbing over. Embarrassingly, the front page is stained with a few tears, but she hands it over nonetheless. 

He scans over the first page quickly, reading the question and seeing how she answered it. “Do you know why you got this one wrong?” 

She sniffles and shrugs. She hadn’t even tried to look over the questions, too mentally exhausted to even try and understand what mistakes she’d made. 

“Look. You tried to cancel out the tan3x, which would make sense in any other case… but since it’s to the power of 4 you could really easily have used integration by parts.”

“Wish I knew that before I took the fucking midterm,” she huffs.

“Hey,” he tsks. “Learn from your mistakes so that you don’t make them again. You need to know this stuff to do integral tests later.”

She shakes her head. “I tried so hard, Harry,” she barely whispers, her voice exhausted. “Like I studied so much, and I really really tried to make it all make sense. But it’s just so hard for me.” She sniffles and wipes away more tears, taking a shaky breath and looking away from Harry. 

She doesn’t want to try anymore. She just wants to give up.

He purses his lips, brows furrowed. There’s something about seeing y/n upset that just feels so wrong. She usually brings so much… light into a room. Seeing her cry makes it seem like the entire universe has gotten a little sadder. 

“You’ve got the right idea when you’re solving these…” he tries to comfort her (though he’s never really been good at comforting people), “It’s just little things that you’re doing wrong. And it’s probably because you’ve got a shit professor who just has you copy down problems.”

“That’s literally all we do!” she whines, not even caring if she sounds like a baby. “He does the problems so fast and then I have to go home and try and figure out how he did it all by myself!” She sniffles and puts her head in her hands, more tears dropping from her eyelashes. She’s exhausted, her head starting to hurt as she exhales a shuddery breath. 

He lets her cry a little bit. “Listen,” he says gently, turning to face her. The normal furrow in his brow is gone, his gaze a little bit softer. “Next time you come over with Maddie, bring your notes and we can go over them together, okay?”

She sniffles. “Seriously?”

“Yes.” 

“Like actually?”

“Yes,” he says again exasperatedly, rolling his eyes. He stands up from the table and puts her midterm back down in front of her. “Lighten up, sunshine. One bad score is not the end of the world.” 

She feels a bit silly now that Harry’s witnessed her having another breakdown in the library. But, despite how little he said… he actually helped her calm down. This was not the end of the world. 

“Okay,” she whispers, “thanks, Harry.” 

He nods and walks away. 

Maybe he doesn’t hate her, she thinks to herself. 

˙· .° ｡  ˚ ｡  ° . · ˚ ˙ · . ° ｡ ˚ ｡  ° . · ˙ · .° ｡ ˚ ｡ °.  · ˙ ‧̍̊  

“I’m going out,” Maddie says as she walks into the kitchen, discarding her half full coffee mug on the counter as she grabs her car keys from the hook in front of the door. 

“Your mug!” y/n tuts like a mother. Maddie rolls her eyes as she pours the last of her coffee down the sink and puts the mug in the dishwasher. Y/n ignores the dramatic eye roll, knowing that Maddie’s just playing around, and asks, “Where are you going?”

“Over to Blake’s,” she responds with a wink. She’s been telling y/n about how she’s been waiting for Blake to text her all week because she doesn’t want to be the one texting first all the time… weird situation-ship stuff that y/n’s never experienced before. Seems like he finally texted her, with how excited Maddie is to be going over. 

Just as Maddie is about to step out the door, y/n remembers Harry’s offer. He’d been serious, right? He hadn’t just said that because she was crying… right? She really hopes not, because she really could use his help. She’d been up for hours last night, trying to do the homework, but ultimately giving up because she got too frustrated with herself. Maybe… maybe he’d be able to help her?

“Wait!” y/n calls out, “Um… can I come with you?”

Maddie raises an eyebrow, “Why do you want to come over to Blake’s apartment?”

Y/n turns a bit shy, “Harry… he’s, um, helping me with math.”

“Harry?” Maddie’s eyes glimmer curiously. “He’s literally such a dick. He’s helping you?”

“He’s not that bad…” y/n mumbles, remembering the ounce of kindness he’d shown to her in the library the other day. He’s just a little bit… reserved, she’s started to realize.

“Please. He literally never smiles. I dunno how you got him to talk to you, he always ignores me when I’m over.” 

(Honestly, she doesn’t blame Harry for not talking to Maddie… she sometimes ignores Maddie in her own apartment too…)

“You have two minutes to meet me in the car or I’m leaving without you!”

˙· .° ｡  ˚ ｡  ° . · ˚ ˙ · . ° ｡ ˚ ｡  ° . · ˙ · .° ｡ ˚ ｡ °.  · ˙ ‧̍̊  

With her schoolbag in hand, y/n taps lightly on Harry’s door. Blake had told her to just go in, but she feels like that’s rude, so she stands in front of his door nervously and waits patiently for him to open. 

“What?” he grunts, opening his bedroom door. “Oh.” The furrow in his brow softens the slightest bit when he sees it’s y/n. He’d thought it was Blake bugging him about something. Y/n is a much… nicer surprise. 

“Hi,” she says, chewing on the inside of her lip nervously. “I was wondering if… um, you could help me out with my calc stuff?” 

He stares at her for a second, then says, “yeah.” 

He opens the door wider and she follows him in. His room is messy, but not gross. The bed is unmade, three half full water bottles on his nightstand, and there’s a pair of sweatpants on the floor… but at least it doesn’t stink!

His computer screen is paused mid-game, and she realizes that he’d still been holding his controller when he’d opened up the door for her. He throws a jacket that had been thrown on the back of his chair onto the bed, and motions for her to sit. Then he pulls up another chair that was sitting in the corner of his room to sit next to her. 

“Let’s see it,” he says, shutting down his computer. 

“So…” she takes her laptop out of her bag, setting it down on his desk and turning it on so that she can open up her homework assignment. While it loads, she unlocks her ipad to the scratch work she’d done last night. “I was trying to do the homework last night, and I think I’m supposed to be doing integration by parts but honestly I’m not even sure how to do that… so I’m kind of lost.” 

Harry leans over her ipad and looks at the work she’d done. It’s… wrong. 

“Can I see your notes for integration by parts?” He asks, trying to figure out how she ended up with 1 as her answer when it should be a much larger, much more complicated mix of trig and integrals. She scrolls up until she lands on a page titled Chapter 7, and points to the second example on the problem. Her notes are cute, written in pink with girlish, bubbly handwriting. However, it’s clear that she’d been struggling to keep up with the lecture, some of her work completely scribbled out and replaced with messy numbers and formulas. Next to one of the big portions of scribbled out math, she's written “WHAT???” along with a sad face doodled underneath it.

Clearly she’s a bit confused. 

“Okay…” he scrolls down to a new page in her digital notebook and copies down the example problem that had confused her. “Let me show you how you do integration by parts first, and then we’ll look at the homework problem, okay?”

“M’kay,” she hums compliantly, crossing her legs and hiding her hands in her sleeves. She feels a bit… nervous. She doesn’t want Harry to think she’s stupid. But she’d rather have her ego a little bruised than fail the next midterm too. 

“So… you do integration by parts when you can’t just do normal integration… usually if there’s e^x in there or a natural log then you know that you have to do integration by parts.” 

She nods, following along quietly. 

“In this one… you have x times e^x dx… you have to break it up into two parts, U and dV. And then you take the derivative of U and find the integral of dV. And you plug that into the formula. Do you know the formula?”

She blinks at him. “Um…” she shuffles through her notes and finds it. “It’s this.” 

“Good… so what you do is you assign x to either U or dV and then e^x(dx) to the other… and then you find dU and V based off of that. Should we make x be U or dV?”

She purses her lips, “Make x=U?”

“Yes…” he nods. “Do you know why?” 

She shrugs. “I guessed.” 

His lip quirks up in the first smile y/n’s ever seen from him, a slight dimple popping up in his cheek. “S’cos we have to either find the derivative of U, or find the integral of dV. It’s way easier to use the derivative of x, cause it’s just one. If we made x equal to dV… then we’d add a fraction and a power of two to our equation and it’ll just make things ugly.”

“Oh.” She stares at his hands as he writes down what he just said in math terms, scribbling in his boyish handwriting that U=x and dU=1. “Okay.”

“So if U=x, then dV is equal to….”

“e^x?” she answers. 

“Good,” he says gently. “And what is V?”

She stays silent for a moment, searching the paper as if it’ll give her an answer. He senses her confusion and helps her out, saying, “IF V is the integral of dV, and dV is e^x…” 

“Well Isn’t the integral of e^x still e^x?” Her voice is unconfident, looking up at Harry with wide, round eyes.

“You’re right,” he says encouragingly, a soft smile on his face. “Stop doubting yourself so much.”

A reciprocating smile spreads on her face, feeling a little more confident with Harry’s praise. 

“All you do now is put your numbers into the formula. Can you do it?”

He hands the pen over to her, their fingers brushing. Her hair falls in front of her face as she leans over the page to write down her answer, and Harry watches softly as she tucks it back behind her ear. He notices how long and delicate her eyelashes are as he stares at her side profile.

“Is that right?” she asks quietly, trying hard to be confident but still so nervous that she’s done it wrong.

He tears his eyes away from her face. “Almost,” he says, leaning forward. Their arms brush against each other, the space that they initially had set between their chairs having shrunk as they worked on the problem together. She can feel his breath as he quietly murmurs next to her ear, “You just need to add +C at the end.” 

She furrows her eyebrows and turns her head towards him, and feels her heart stutter as she realizes how close their faces actually are. “What does the +C mean?”

“It’s just like… it’s supposed to represent any constants that we couldn’t find. Because when you take the derivative of a constant it just ends up being zero, so when you’re given an integral and doing the anti-differential process… you don’t know if there was actually a constant there or what it was. So the +C is just representing any constant value that could’ve been in the answer, even though you don’t know what the number is.”

She blinks at him. “Um… okay. I’ll just pretend like that made sense.”

He chuckles, the first time she’s probably ever heard him laugh. “It’s honestly not that important to get it. Just remember to add +C every time you take an integral.”

“Got it…” she says, adding the +C. 

“Think you can do the next one on your own?” 

+++

“Harry,” y/n pouts. “It says I’m wrong but I dunno why.” 

He pauses his game and slides out of his seat, going over to y/n. She’d relocated to his bed after they did a couple more problems together and felt confident enough to do the rest by herself. His chest brushing against her back softly as he leans over her shoulder, going over her work. “What’s the integral of sin(x)?”

“Cos(x),” she says confidently.

“Not quite…”

She sits there for a second, brows furrowed. “Oh!” she adds a negative in front of the cos(x).

“There you go,” he grins down at her. 

She lays down on his bed, her hair splaying out behind her as she throws her ipad on his bed, relieved. “Harry. You’re a genius.” 

He laughs, a quiet huff of air that passes out of his nose with an amused smile on his face. “So it makes sense?”

“I think you should be teaching our class. You’re so good. Thank you for helping me.”

He hums, giving her a satisfied smirk, and goes back to his game while she finishes her homework. It's a strange setup, sitting in his bed and doing her homework while he plays, but she doesn’t mind it. 

In fact, it’s kind of nice.

Harry’s kind of nice.

She kind of likes Harry.

˙· .° ｡  ˚ ｡  ° . · ˚ ˙ · . ° ｡ ˚ ｡  ° . · ˙ · .° ｡ ˚ ｡ °.  · ˙ ‧̍̊  

hope u guys loved it!!!!!! part 2 is up on my patreon already, and will come to tumblr next saturday (july 29) pleeeeaaaase lmk what u rhink and give her a rb and a comment i love u guys so so much!!!

sunshine - part 2 (already posted on patreon!) : In which Harry's a little bit nicer, and y/n is very excited to possibly, hopefully, maybe be kissed.

sunshine masterlist

[allthelovehes]

Italian Tub*

Summary: Harry takes Y/N on a surprise trip to Italy for their 5th wedding anniversary. Everything goes smoothly until they find themselves alone in the hot tub in the backyard of their Airbnb.

Pairing: Husband!Harry x Wife!Y/N

Word count: 4.2K

Warnings: Unprotected sex, p in v, public sex, female masturbation, light spanking.

Taglist: @justmystyles @bitchybabyharry @harrysslut7 @swiftmendeshoran @lucasandharold @harrysbabycherry @htaylor18 @rose-garden-dreamz @myalovesharry @mellamolayla @hsonlyangelxo @yousunshineyoutempter @heartateasee @blueheisenbergtragedy @bikestyles @bohemianrhapsody86 @cherrylovers-world @harrys-littlefreak Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! 🤗

Support my work by joining my Patreon!

Now that Harry is on a break from touring the world, he is able to spend all his time with his wife. After being married for a few years, they are still as in love as ever, if not more so. Harry loves being a husband to Y/N, and Y/N loves being a wife to Harry. They enjoy every minute of their free time together and cherish the alone time they have.

With their anniversary coming up, Harry knows he needs to get his wife something extra special this year. It was their fifth anniversary, after all. As Harry and Y/N lay together in bed, the anniversary still two weeks away, Harry began to ponder about what to get his girl.

Harry wants something special and intimate. Something that his wife can't just buy for herself. A trip perhaps? As Harry was lying on his side, looking at his beautiful wife sleeping soundly beside him, an idea popped into his head. It was perfect, and she would never expect it.

The next day, after Y/N goes out to go shopping, Harry sits down with his laptop and searches for the perfect getaway. Y/N always wanted to go to Apulia, Italy. So this was the perfect opportunity.

Once Harry opened the Airbnb website and filled in the needed information, he started scrolling through all the homes that were available for rent. As he was scrolling, one particular house caught his eye. It was gorgeous, and Harry knew Y/N would love it. It's a lovely house in the countryside, not too far from the beach. It's also secluded and private, and the best part is there the large pool and hot tub with a view of the village down the hill.

Harry books the Airbnb with no hesitation. He is thrilled to surprise his wife, and he is even more thrilled to see the look on her face when she realises where they are going. Harry knows his girl has been dying to go to Italy. So it's a win-win.

As the weeks go by, Y/N notices Harry is acting differently. It is almost as if he is hiding something from her. But she can't think of what it could be. She decides not to push the issue, but she still keeps an eye on him, hoping that he will soon tell her what is going on.

A few days before their anniversary, Harry decides to break the news to his wife. They are both at home watching television, cuddling up to each other on the couch. As Y/N looks over at her husband, she can't help but feel like something is going on.

“Is everything alright?” Y/N asks curiously.

“Yes, love, why do you ask?” Harry replies.

“It's just... I feel like you've been hiding something from me these last few weeks. Is there something going on?” Y/N questions.

“Yes, actually there is.” Harry begins. “I've been planning a surprise for you.”

Y/N sits up and looks at Harry with an excited expression on her face. “Oh, a surprise? What is it?” She asks with enthusiasm.

“That's for me to know, and for you to find out. But we're going to be leaving the day after tomorrow.” Harry states.

“What? Are you serious?” Y/N practically yells. “We're going on a trip? Where are we going? Tell me, please!”

“Patience, love. You will find out everything once we're at the airport.” Harry chuckles causing Y/N to pout and she crosses her arms over her chest. “Awe, don't be like that.”

“I can't believe you're doing this to me, Harry.” Y/N huffs.

“It's our fifth anniversary, and I wanted to do something special.” Harry explains. “And besides, you'll love your surprise. You have no idea.”

“What do I need to be packing? Summer clothes? Sweaters? What should I bring?” Y/N asks, suddenly excited.

“Pack light. It's not really cold where we're going. So pack some shorts and tank tops, along with some dresses and nice shoes. Oh, and your bikini, of course.” Harry answers.

“Wait, are we going to the beach? Tell me, please!” Y/N pleads.

“I already said too much, so I'm not saying anything else.” Harry states.

“Harry! Come on!” Y/N groans.

“You'll know everything once we arrive.” Harry smiles. “Now, come here and cuddle with me.”

Y/N smiles as she lays back down next to her husband and wraps her arm around his torso. They turn their attention back to the television and finish watching their show together.

***

Two days later, it is finally time for Harry and Y/N to leave. As the two of them stand outside of their house waiting for their car to pick them up, Y/N is practically jumping with excitement. She has no idea where they are going, but she can't wait.

“Are you excited, love?” Harry asks, looking over at his wife.

“Hell yes! I can't wait! This is going to be amazing, I know it!” Y/N smiles.

As soon as the car pulls up in front of the house, Harry takes their suitcases and puts them into the trunk. Then he and Y/N climb into the car. As the driver takes off towards the airport, Harry and Y/N sit together holding hands. They can't stop smiling at each other.

When the car arrives at the airport, Harry helps his wife out of the car. Once the driver brings their luggage to them on a trolley, they walk hand in hand towards the terminal with Harry pushing the cart forward. When they get to the check-in counter, Harry checks in their luggage and they proceed towards the security line.

Somehow Harry manages to get all of that done without spoiling their destination to Y/N. He doesn't even slip up and tell her the airline or the gate number. He is a man on a mission, and he won't be letting anything distract him.

After a quick walk through security, Harry and Y/N make their way over to their gate. When they arrive, Y/N's eyes grow wide and her mouth falls open. “What? Wait, are we going to...”

“Apulia, Italy.” Harry states, a smirk on his lips.

“Oh my god, Harry, this is amazing!” Y/N practically screams. “Thank you, baby, thank you, thank you, thank you!” She then wraps her arms around his neck and gives him a long passionate kiss.

“Mmm, you're welcome, love.” Harry smiles.

As Harry and Y/N wait for their flight to begin boarding, they chat away about what they're going to do once they land. Harry already has a few things planned, but he isn't going to spoil anything. He wants his wife to be completely surprised.

When it is time for the couple to board, they are seated in first class. Y/N loves first class, it's the only way Harry can travel somewhat privately, without people noticing him. Plus, it's a lot more comfortable, and he and his wife are able to relax.

As soon as the plane takes off, the couple snuggle together and enjoy the ride. After only a few hours of flying, they are finally in Italy. They land at Bari Karalis International Airport. When the couple exit the plane and make their way through the terminal, Y/N is in awe of the surroundings. She has always dreamed of coming here, and now she is here.

The warm Italian air is a welcomed sensation, and the sun is shining brightly. The sky is a beautiful shade of blue, with a few wispy clouds here and there. Y/N is over the moon, and Harry is loving every minute of it.

Once the couple has picked up their luggage and left the airport, they are greeted by their driver. They put their luggage into the boot of the car and then climb into the back seat. The driver turns and asks the couple. “Where would you like to go?”

“I have the address right here.” Harry says as he hands the driver a piece of paper.

“Very well, sir. Let's go.” The driver states, the Italian accent thick.

As the driver pulls away from the airport and starts driving down the road, Harry looks over at his wife and says. “I have a little surprise for you.”

“Oh? And what's that?” Y/N questions.

“We're staying at a beautiful little house in the countryside, not far from the beach. It has a hot tub, a pool, a beautiful garden, and a great view.” Harry states.

“Seriously?” Y/N questions. “Oh, Harry, this is the best!” She then leans over and plants a kiss on his cheek.

As the drive continues, Harry and Y/N enjoy the scenery as they pass by quaint towns, picturesque fields, and beautiful villas. After about an hour of driving, the couple are taken aback by the beauty of the countryside. They can see the house in the distance, and it looks amazing.

When the driver pulls up to the front of the house, Harry and Y/N are awestruck by its beauty. As the couple step out of the car and start taking in their surroundings, they are immediately overwhelmed by how beautiful the house is.

“Harry, this is breathtaking.” Y/N states, as she turns to face her husband.

“Isn't it?” Harry smiles.

The couple walks over to the front door of the house and Harry unlocks the door with the key that's hidden in a savebox near the entry. Harry was sent a code earlier in the day so they could have a contactless check-in. As they walk inside, they are greeted by a small hallway with stairs to their right. As they continue walking forward, they come to a living room area with a couch, two chairs, and a large flat-screen television above a fireplace.

“Wow, this is really beautiful.” Y/N remarks, looking around.

“I know, right?” Harry replies. “Come, let's check out the kitchen.”

As the couple makes their way into the kitchen, they notice a large island in the middle with an extended dining table. To the left is a large glass door that leads to a backyard patio with a grill and a large dining area.

“This is perfect.” Y/N smiles, wrapping her arms around her husband's neck.

“I knew you'd like it.” Harry smiles, planting a kiss on her forehead. He turns around to slide open the glass door and walk out onto the patio.

“Wow, this is so lovely. Look at the view.” Y/N sighs, admiring the view. “Oh, and a pool! That's awesome.”

“Yes, and look at the hot tub over there. I think we're going to be spending a lot of time in that.” Harry smirks.

“Oh yeah?” Y/N giggles.

“Definitely.” Harry winks.

The backyard is big but private and located on the top of a hill with a view of the town down below. The street on which the Airbnb is located has a lot of big houses, but they are spread out with enough privacy in between. The garden is nicely landscaped and has flowers everywhere.

As Harry and Y/N make their way back into the house, they head upstairs. The master bedroom is at the top of the stairs, and it is just as beautiful as the rest of the house. There's a large king-sized bed, a TV mounted to the wall, and a beautiful view of the mountains in the distance.

“Harry, this is stunning.” Y/N gasps, as she walks around the room.

“I know, I'm glad you like it, babe.” Harry smiles, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind.

“Like it? I love it. This is a dream.” Y/N states.

“Well, we're going to have a lot of fun while we're here.” Harry whispers, planting a kiss on the crook of her neck.

“Oh, really?” Y/N giggles.

“Oh, yes.” Harry chuckles, nipping at her neck.

“Harry, behave.” Y/N laughs, swatting him away playfully.

“I don't want to.” Harry pouts as he begins nibbling on her earlobe. His strong arms hold her tightly against him, not letting her go.

“Baby, come on.” Y/N tries, but her husband is relentless.

“Come on, let's break in the bed.” Harry growls, letting one of his hands slide up her torso and grab her breast, kneading the flesh.

“Harry!” Y/N cries, focussing on keeping a moan from slipping out.

“What?” Harry asks, feigning innocence. “Don't act like you don't want me.”

“I can't deny that I want you, but we're not breaking in the bed right now. I'm hungry, I need food.” Y/N states, pulling his hand off her chest.

“I could eat you.” Harry winks, earning a smack on the chest from his wife. “Hey, I was only kidding.” He chuckles.

“Yeah, sure.” Y/N rolls her eyes. “Come on, let's go.”

“Fine.” Harry sighs.

The couple makes their way downstairs, Harry close behind his wife, his arms around her waist. Ever since stepping foot on the Italian soil, he is feeling like a horny teenager, dying to get the girl in bed.

They decide to go into town and find a restaurant to eat at. The couple walks hand in hand through the streets, admiring the architecture and the quaintness of the town. As they stroll down the main street, they spot a small restaurant and decide to have dinner there.

After having a wonderful meal, the couple takes a stroll back to the house. When they arrive, the sun is beginning to set, bathing the world around them in a beautiful golden glow. As they step into the house, Y/N looks at Harry and says. “This is the perfect night.”

“Yes, it is.” Harry smiles. “And it's only just beginning.”

“Is that so?” Y/N smirks, her hand coming up to cup her husband's face.

“You have no idea.” Harry whispers, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers. “Go get your bikini, let's go for a swim.”

Y/N heads upstairs to the bedroom and opens her suitcase. She digs through her clothes until she finds her green string bikini. She strips down and puts it on, checking her reflection in the mirror. As she heads back downstairs, she notices her husband waiting for her by the back door, already dressed in his black swim trunks.

“God, you look good.” Harry growls, eyeing her up and down.

“Stop it, you're making me blush.” Y/N laughs, her cheeks flushing pink.

“No, seriously, you look incredible. Come here.” Harry states, reaching out for his wife.

Y/N steps into his embrace and kisses him deeply. As she pulls away, she notices the hungry look in his eyes. She knows exactly what he wants, but she's not giving in that easily.

“Come on, let's go.” Y/N states, slipping from her husband's embrace.

“Alright, fine.” Harry sighs, letting her go.

As the couple steps outside, the warm evening air hits their skin. They make their way over to the pool, and Harry steps in first. He slowly lowers himself down, the water coming up to his chest. He motions for Y/N to join him, and she does. She sits on the edge of the pool and slowly lowers herself into the water, her feet touching the bottom.

“This is nice.” Y/N smiles, looking at her husband.

“Yes, it is.” Harry nods, his eyes never leaving her.

They stay in the pool for a while, just enjoying the feeling of the water and the warmth of the night. As they swim around, Y/N's eyes wander over her husband's toned body, taking in the sight of him as he's floating on top of the water.

“Are you enjoying the view, love?” Harry asks, catching her gaze.

“Maybe.” Y/N smirks.

“Come on, let's go relax in the hot tub.” Harry states, his hand reaching out to take hers. Y/N follows him over to the hot tub and steps in. The hot water instantly relaxes her muscles, and she lets out a content sigh.

“This is heaven.” Y/N sighs, her head resting back against the edge of the tub.

“Mmm, it is.” Harry agrees, his eyes taking in the sight of her. Her hair is pulled up in a messy bun, her skin glistening from the moisture. The way her breasts are just peeking out of the water, he's getting hard just looking at her.

“Harry, stop staring at me like that.” Y/N states, opening one eye and peering at her husband.

“I can't help it, you're so beautiful.” Harry smiles, his eyes locked with hers.

“Charmer.” Y/N giggles, closing her eye.

As she relaxes in the hot tub, her mind starts wandering. She begins thinking about her husband, and all the things she wants to do to him. She knows he's watching her, and it's turning her on. She can feel the heat pooling between her legs, and she squirms slightly.

She looks over at Harry, who is now leaning back against the hot tub, his eyes closed. She bites her bottom lip as she watches him. She has a perfect view of his body and can't help but admire him.

As the hot water surrounds her, she lets her hands slide over her body. She trails her fingers across her skin, and the sensation sends shivers through her. She slowly dips her fingers into the waistband of her bikini bottoms, and she carefully pushes them down her legs, trying not to gain any attention from Harry.

She puts her bottoms on the edge of the tub and pulls the strings of her top loose. She gently peels the fabric off her body, setting the top with her bottoms. As she slides back into the water, her nipples harden from the cool air hitting her skin.

As the warm water surrounds her again, she looks at Harry. He's still sitting there, his eyes closed. She can tell that he's enjoying the moment, and it's turning her on even more. She can feel her arousal growing, and she can't wait to touch herself.

Her hands move down her body and slip under the water as she sets her feet on the seat next to her. Her fingers brush against her clit, sending a wave of pleasure through her. She slowly rubs herself, teasing her clit and feeling her pussy get wet.

She watches Harry, wanting to see his reaction when he sees her. She continues rubbing herself, her fingers now moving down to her entrance. She pushes one finger inside her, and then two. She can feel how wet she is, and she moans softly as she fucks herself with her fingers.

She can't help but wonder if Harry can hear her, or if he can tell what she's doing. She wants him to look at her, to see her pleasuring herself. She wants him to see how turned on she is, and she wants him to touch her.

Her fingers are still inside her pussy as she's fucking herself with them. Her other hand is on her clit, rubbing herself in circles. She can feel her orgasm building, and she's not going to last much longer.

She lets out a moan as her fingers pump in and out of her, the pleasure building. Harry's eyes finally fly open, and he looks over at her, his mouth dropping open as he sees her touching herself.

“Fuck, babe.” Harry whispers, his eyes locked on her.

“Harry...” Y/N moans, her fingers still buried deep inside her.

“You're so fucking hot.” Harry groans, his cock straining against his swim trunks. He's quick to pull the fabric down his legs, his erection springing free. He wraps his hand around his cock and begins stroking himself, his eyes never leaving her.

Y/N doesn't know how to reply, but she can feel her orgasm approaching, and her moans are becoming louder. She looks at her husband, his eyes dark with lust.

“Are you going to come for me, baby?” Harry asks, his voice husky.

“Yes...I'm going to come.” Y/N pants, her fingers working faster.

“Then come for me.” Harry growls, his gaze locked with hers.

“Oh, fuck...” Y/N cries, her fingers pumping in and out of her faster.

“That's it, baby, come for me.” Harry coaxes, his hand stroking his cock faster.

Y/N can feel her orgasm crashing over her, and her whole body shudders as the waves of pleasure wash over her. She moans loudly, her eyes locked with her husband's. She can see how turned on he is, and it's driving her crazy.

As she comes down from her orgasm, she pulls her fingers from her pussy and brings them to her mouth. She licks her fingers clean, her eyes still locked with Harry's. He lets out a low groan, his eyes filled with desire.

“Come here.” Harry growls, his hand never leaving his cock.

Y/N moves over to him, the water splashing around her. As she gets close to him, he grabs her and pulls her onto his lap, her legs straddling him. His hard cock is pressed against her, and she can feel his need.

“Fuck me.” Y/N breathes, her arms wrapping around his neck.

“I plan to.” Harry smirks, his hands gripping her hips tightly. He guides her onto his cock, his length sliding into her wet pussy.

“Oh, god.” Y/N gasps, her eyes closing as he fills her.

“That's it, baby.” Harry groans, his hands squeezing her hips as he begins thrusting into her. Y/N can't believe how good it feels, his cock stretching her and filling her completely. She rocks her hips, matching his thrusts and letting out soft moans. She's still sensitive from her orgasm, and the sensation is driving her crazy.

Harry is in ecstasy at how amazing it feels to be inside his wife, her tight pussy gripping his cock. He can feel her juices coating him, and it's making him even harder. He leans forward, his mouth capturing hers in a heated kiss.

“You feel so fucking good.” Harry growls against her lips, his hips picking up speed. Y/N can't help but cry out, the pleasure almost too much for her to handle.

“Oh, god...Harry...” Y/N pants, her eyes squeezing shut as his cock drives into her.

“I love hearing you say my name like that.” Harry groans, one of his hands cupping her breast while the other one remains on her hips, pushing her up and down his cock.

“Please...” Y/N moans, her voice breathy and needy.

“What do you want, baby?” Harry asks, his hand moving to pinch her nipple.

“Harder...faster.” Y/N pleads, her head falling back at the feeling of his fingers on her.

“As you wish.” Harry chuckles. He pulls her off his lap, and guides her to the side of the tub, placing her with both knees on the seat, her ass in the air. “Hold on, baby.” Harry groans, standing behind her. He grabs her hips and pushes his cock inside her once more.

“Fuck, yes.” Y/N moans as his cock fills her again. Her hands grip the edge of the tub for leverage, her back arching.

Harry's fingers dig into her hips as he pounds into her, his cock sliding in and out of her pussy. She can feel him hitting her G-spot, and it's driving her wild.

“That's it, baby. You feel so fucking good.” Harry growls. He slaps her ass hard, the sting making her moan. He does it again, and again, each time harder than the last until there is a visible red handprint on her skin.

“Harry, you're so fucking good for me.” Y/N whines, the pleasure building quickly.

“You like this, don't you? You like it when I fuck you like this.” Harry growls.

“Yes, yes, please.” Y/N begs, her orgasm approaching.

“I'm going to fuck you so hard.” Harry grunts, his thrusts becoming faster. “And then I'm going to spill my cum deep inside your tight little pussy.”

“Oh, god, yes!” Y/N moans, her walls contracting around him. “I'm going to come, Harry.”

“Yes, you are.” Harry says, his hands digging into her hips. “Now, come for me.”

With a loud moan, Y/N's orgasm washes over her, her pussy clenching around him.

“Fuck, that's it.” Harry groans. He pumps into her a few more times, and then his cock pulses, spurting his hot seed deep inside her just like he promised.

As her orgasm fades, Y/N falls against the edge of the tub, exhausted and satisfied. She can feel Harry's cum dripping down her thighs, and she loves it.

“You're such a minx.” Harry laughs, leaning over her and pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

“What can I say, you bring out the worst in me.” Y/N jokes.

“Mm, well I'm glad I can be of service.” Harry smirks, his hands running up and down her sides.

The couple stays like that for a while, basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking. It's a beautiful night, and they're glad to be here, enjoying each other's company.

[jqhotchner]

yn

Liked by hstyles94 and 98 others

yn my best friend forever ❤️

View all 23 comments

hstyles94 missing you both to death

| yn @hstyles94 we miss you too. hurry home, baby

stylesgem0 need to see you both soon <3

annestyles i love you both so much!

dadofyn my beautiful grandbaby

suz330 when are you coming to visit?

| yn @suz330 hopefully soon! miss you and the gang so much

hstyles94

Liked by yn and 56 others

hstyles94 my princess came to watch her daddy’s show!

View all 20 comments

yn 😍

stylesgem0 my favorite niece 🩷🩷

annestyles miss my grand baby

hsnews

Liked by harryfan8 and 3,090 others

hsnews harry styles tonight: “there is a very cute little girl in the crowd who sometimes calls me frog. this is dedicated to you, princess!”

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harryfan8 i wonder who he was referring to?

harryfineline he’s so adorable ☺️

harryfan5 i think he was talking about one of the crew members daughters

harryfan4 he is the moment

harryfan30 i need him more than i need to breath honestly

[gurugirl]

The Handyman

Summary: When you inherit your aunt's estate after she passes away, you hire Harry to fix up the old house but that's not all he winds up being good for.

A/N: This was requested! Also if you'd like to see early access content like this (plus more exclusive content) consider joining my Patreon! xoxo

Word Count: 10.9k

Warning: smut, mentions of a close relative dying, and tons of sweetness

When you pulled up the long dirt driveway to the old estate you used to spend your summers at, it was as if you could feel your aunt Gayla’s presence all around you again. You could remember running through the fields and the trees and dawdling your afternoons away on the big wraparound porch with extra sweet lemonade and book after book.

Your aunt would have her old radio playing with records or cassette tapes, volume turned up so loud you’d be out climbing a tree a quarter mile off and could still hear the sounds of Credence Clearwater Revival or Stevie Nicks crooning over the distance. When the sun would begin to dip in the sky, oranges and pinks coloring in where it was bright blue just before, she’d change the record to Bill Withers or maybe even Louis Armstrong and she’d call you in by screaming at the top of her lungs that it was time to eat. But when you’d arrive she’d pull you into her arms and dance with you and tell you how important it was to read, write, dance, and love.

And everything she did and the way she lived her life had the biggest influence on yours these days. She had been your favorite person, next to your mother of course. But your mother died when you were 17 and your aunt filled in to help raise you when your dad was overwhelmed with the loss of his wife and trying to reign in a hormonal and emotional young woman. He tried his best but you knew it was lucky your aunt stepped up to help guide you into adulthood.

So it came as almost no surprise to anyone when your aunt passed and she left you everything she had. At the time you didn’t realize she had so much. At the reading of the will, it was just you and your father. The lawyer said you’d be inheriting her estate and every dime she had to her name. But when he read off the number, well, that part very much came as a surprise.

It was a life-changing number. And her old, huge house set on 16 acres in that old, small town was worth far more than you ever imagined it would be. You were advised to sell it at first. And you certainly considered it. What would you be needing with so much space all by yourself so far away from the big city you currently lived in? That money could just be piled on top of the already large sum she’d left you.

But the more you considered selling it the more you hated that idea. All the wonderful memories you had there, all that gorgeous space with expanses of marble and hardwood and tall trees and meadowland could be a sanctuary. It could be a place for you to live. To enjoy the large space, tall ceilings, and windows, the sunrises and sunsets… To play music loudly and dance in front of your oven as you baked muffins and write to your heart’s content.

It could certainly be far better than your studio apartment that cost nearly as much in rent as what you made working your ass off at the paper. You could move out of your rundown, mouse-infested building and fix up the old estate to your liking. You could quit your job and begin writing full-time like you always wanted. Your aunt’s house would be the perfect place to begin your new adventure. A refuge of peace. An oasis of your own to spark inspiration and creativity.

And so here you were, standing with the key in hand on the big front porch, old, rotted boards bending and cracking as you stepped up to the door to open it for the first time in years. When your aunt had fallen sick, she’d been transferred to the city to live with your father as she was unable to care for herself during the end of her life. You helped as often as possible. On Saturdays, you’d take her to the park to sit on the bench and watch the birds and the trees and you’d chat about the books you were reading and life. You did that every Saturday until she could no longer be moved from her bed. But you were always with her every Saturday, by her side and holding her hand until she had no more Saturdays left.

You felt a surge of emotion as you walked through the space. The old funky vintage chandelier that hung over the dining table was covered in cobwebs. When your aunt had it installed you helped her paint the little ceramic flowers in various shades of green and yellow. It had been all white at one time.

But it was the window that stretched along the wall that overlooked the back acreage that drew you closer. Pulling the dusty curtains aside, sunshine filled the room. Sheets covered the furniture that had all been left behind.

The whole place was yours. And you had a great feeling about this next phase in your life.

. . .

After a week of cleaning, working in the garden, peeling wallpaper down, having a new refrigerator and oven range installed as well as a washer and dryer for clothes, and attempting to tear out wooden boards from the front porch all by yourself, you’d hit a wall. It was clear you’d need help to get the house in tip-top shape.

Scouring the internet for handyman recommendations, you were left feeling quite hopeless. So you made a trip into town to talk to the owner of the hardware shop you met some days earlier when you were buying paint and tools. He had mentioned he knew someone who could help if you ever needed. A local man who took over his father’s business. You imagined there weren’t a lot of people willing to make the trip out to the small town and then even further out to the old house miles from the main road.

When you arrived, as you expected, the place was empty aside from Mr. George shuffling about behind the counter. When he spotted you his face lit up in a grin, “Miss Y/n! How can I help you this Thursday morning?”

“Hi, Mr. George. I was uh, wondering if I could get the number of that handyman you were telling me about? I think I’ve done all I can do by myself at this point. Some of the electricity needs rewiring, the boards in the porch are rotting away–“

“Say no more, my dear. I’ll call him right now,” he placed his hand over the phone receiver, “We’ll see if he can make some time today or tomorrow and if not, I’ll bet he can fit you in next week for a quote.”

“Next week?” You frowned.

“Well, he’s the only one who runs the business these days. His pop passed away a couple of months back so I’m assuming he might be a bit busy. Good guy, though. I wouldn’t recommend him if I didn’t think he’d do your aunt’s place justice.”

You nodded. That would have to be good enough you supposed. If not this week, next week you figured would be okay. Things were different in the small town than they were back in the big city. Life moved a bit slower and that was something you would just have to get used to.

Mr. George dialed the number he pulled up from his desktop Rolodex as you patiently waited to find out if the recommended handyman would be interested in helping you or not.

“Harry! My boy! How are you?” Mr. George spoke into the receive with a big smile.

“Yeah… I’m well too. Hey, look,” he glanced at you, “I’ve got a lovely young woman here who needs some help with her new house… yes. It’s that old mansion off Timbert. The one about a two miles from the main road… exactly. Gayla’s old place… It’s her niece, uh,” he cupped the receiver and looked at you with his brows raised as you spoke your name to him, “her name is Y/n.”

Seemed everyone in this town knew your aunt. You watched George scribble down something on a piece of scrap paper before sliding it over to you and began to make a little small talk with the man called Harry.

It was a number and the name of the company, Styles and Son. Mr. George pointed at the paper, and looked at you, “Write your number down here for me.”

You picked up the pen he used and wrote your number with your first and last name next to it, handing the paper back to him.

Mr. George tore off the section with your number and nodded at you, “Okay, ready for the number?”

He read it off to Harry before looking at you and holding out the receiver, “Wants to ask you a couple of questions.”

“Oh, sure,” you reached for the phone and stepped closer to the counter so you could put it to your ear, “Hello?”

“Hi. You’re Gayla’s niece?”

“Yes, sir. She recently passed and left the house to me and I wanted to fix it up a little.”

“My dad used to help Gayla out whenever she needed things done. I’ve never had the opportunity to see the inside but I’d like to come by maybe tomorrow afternoon when you have an hour or so to spare?”

“Sure! I’ll be home all day. Any time works for me.”

“Great. Let’s say around 2? I’ll give you a call before I head that way. George gave me your phone number, and make sure he gives you mine.”

“Oh yeah. He already did. I’ve got it written down here.”

“M’kay… well, I’ll see you tomorrow Y/n.”

“Sure! And thank you again!”

Mr. George took the phone from you and placed it into its cradle to hang up the call, “You know… Harry’s a single man. Bout your age. My wife says he’s a looker and I reckon you two might get along well.”

“Is that so?” You grinned at the store owner as you folded up Harry’s contact info and stuffed it into your pocket, “Appreciate this, Mr. George. So much. Truly.”

“Ahh, it��s nothin’. This small town is a close-knit community. We’re all here to help each other when we can.”

. . .

Instead of calling you, Harry texted when he was on his way over.

See you in half an hour. H

You smiled at the thought of finally getting some help in that big lonely house. Wiping the sweat from your forehead you climbed down the step ladder to freshen up a bit before Harry could arrive. You slid on a clean cotton dress, washed your hands and face, and then made some lemonade should he want anything to drink.

When Harry arrived you heard his truck clonking up the dirt driveway before you saw it. He’d been your first visitor so it was the first time you’d had the pleasure of hearing a vehicle driving toward your house (and didn’t it feel so weird to call it your house?). You watched out the window as dust kicked up from his tires. It was a big black truck. A decal on the side that read Styles and Son.

Walking onto your porch you waved to greet him as he stepped out, feet landing on the ground. His attire was simple. Jeans and a white t-shirt with a pocket at the front. Work boots. But what you couldn’t get over as he smiled and raised his big hand to wave back at you was how fit and broad he was. Tanned skin on his arms and tattoos up the length of one of them. Chestnut curls with touches of light brown and maybe blond hidden in the strands. He was tall and he was handsome.

“Y/n?” He smiled as he walked up the steps to your porch with his eyes on you. Green eyes.

“Yes! I’m Y/n,” you reached your hand out to him as he gripped it into his palm to shake.

“Nice to meet you. I’ve always wanted to check out Gayla’s house. Glad I’ve got the opportunity,” he looked down at the boards under his feet, “And first thing is,” he bent down and placed the heel of his palm into the wood, “this porch needs updating in a bad way.” He stood back up, soft green irises on you, “Feel how soft that is when you step over it?” He spoke as he demonstrated, pressing his foot into the floor of the porch.

You nodded, “Oh yeah. I already tore some of the boards out but I knew I couldn’t do all this on my own.”

Harry squinted at you and the way his eyes scraped down over your dress and to your feet then back up to your face had you tingling, “You tore out some boards on your own?” He nodded with an impressed look on his face.

Now you were feeling flustered. The sudden shift in temperature made it feel like your cotton panties were digging into your hips and your thighs too tight.

You laughed and shook your head, “Oh… I mean it wasn’t much. But…” you looked back up at him and watched as a lopsided smile took over his face, complete with a dimple, “You wanna come inside? See the place?”

“Absolutely.”

You pushed the front door in and let Harry pass through into the space. You watched him look all around and then walk toward the big front window and slide his hand over the wood frame, “Beautiful woodwork here,” he looked up toward the ceiling and then along the wall toward the archway into the dining area, “It looks like it’s probably throughout the house. We’ll be sure to keep this original,” he looked at you suddenly, “Unless you wanted to completely change all this. It’s up to you but I would suggest trying to maintain the existing features.”

“I would love to keep it original if possible. So… are you saying you’ll do this for me?”

Harry chuckled and ran his index finger under his nose, “Soon as I saw the place as I drove up the path to get here had my heart set on it. Of course, we’ll need to talk numbers and come to an agreement but I’m ready to start as soon as possible. What’s the electricity situation? Original too?” He looked up at the light sconce on the wall.

“I think it’s all original. Everything. Most likely all needs overhauled to bring it up to code. So… you don’t have other jobs you are committed to right now? Thought you were the only one?”

Harry raised his brows and looked back at you, “Hired a helper a couple weeks back. He can do all the odd jobs for me while I focus on this. Honestly, Y/n,” you scorched at the way he said your name so casually, “There ain’t tons of work around here. I usually have one or two small jobs a day. Garbage disposal repair, sodding a yard, shingle repair… we do bigger jobs too like tree stump removal, burst pipes, and things like that. One-offs usually.”

“Tree stump removal… you do all that?”

He nodded, “Yep. I do it all. Got the equipment from when my father was running the business. My dad and I were the only ones in town to do all this kind of stuff so we learned how to do just about everything.”

You showed Harry around the rest of the house and described what you thought you might want done. But watching Harry slide his hands over your baseboards and knock at the walls as he talked about what he’d do… you smiled and agreed with everything he said.

“I do want the wallpaper out, though. It’s a little too dated for my taste,” you ran your finger over the silk flower design wall covering and Harry put his palm over the wall and nodded, “We could look at other wallpaper if you wanted. Or were you just thinking paint?”

You bit your lip and leaned into the wainscoting, “Maybe a new wallpaper? What do you think is better?”

Harry mimicked your pose, placing his hip on the white wainscoting, and faced you, “There are some really high-quality wallpapers out there. In any pattern you can think of. Can also get them custom-made if you had the money for it. I’d get the wallpaper if I were you.”

You nodded, “I’ll be honest, Harry, my aunt left me a good bit of money and I’d like to restore the place with really nice quality things and finishes. Want it to look as beautiful here as it did the day it was built. I’m not too worried about how much it’ll all cost. Within reason of course.”

Harry pushed himself from the wall and clasped his hands together behind his back, “I’m really sorry for your loss by the way. Was a shock to everyone when we found out she passed.”

You nodded, “Yeah. I always thought she’d live forever. Spent so many summers here with her, climbing trees and dancing… just feels so weird that she’s gone now,” a small smile covered your face, “But also, I’m sorry to hear about your dad too. His recent passing.”

The smile fell from Harry’s face, “Did George tell you he passed?”

“He did. I’m sorry if bringing that up wasn’t–“

“No, it’s fine. I was about to tell you anyway. Hence the name of the business, Styles and Son. I’m the son part of it,” he grinned, “But yeah. He died and I took over the business. It’s been a struggle. I miss him but I think he’d be really pleased that I was getting the chance to fix this old place up.”

You offered Harry some lemonade and you both sat on the back porch together as you discussed what you wanted done first with the house. Of course, Harry already had a solid timeline in mind, he’d start with the electrical wiring and the rotten boards on the porch and make sure everything was up to code and safe before getting to the more superficial parts of the job. The garden and landscaping would come last.

Everything flowed so nicely with Harry. He was easy to talk to and you trusted that he knew what he was doing. And it didn’t hurt that his voice was soothing and deep and slow. You could listen to him talk about solid hardwood versus engineered hardwood all day long if he let you.

“Well, I’ll be heading out now I guess. Be back first thing in the morning and start on this porch.”

You walked him to his big truck and shook his hand again, thanking him for taking the job and feeling a bit overwhelmed and emotional at everything.

Overwhelmed because Harry was so genuinely kind and you knew immediately you could trust him completely. Which just added to his charm and sex appeal. You really tried to push down the fact that he was so stunningly attractive because that wasn’t going to do you any good. And even though Mr. George told you he was single, you couldn’t imagine that was true. Someone as yummy-looking and kind-hearted as Harry? There was no way he wasn’t at least seeing someone.

But you were also emotional because you were finally going to get to see your aunt Gayla’s house restored to its original glory. It was going to be a real labor of love but it felt so good to be doing it. You had never felt so sure you were on the right path in life until that day. Until Harry arrived with his big truck and assured you that you’d get everything you wanted and that it would end up being even better than before.

And for the first time since you moved into that old house, you sat down and began to write. You’d gotten nearly ten thousand words written and were awake well into the wee hours of the morning typing away with the sudden inspiration you’d gotten. You fell asleep with your laptop next to you when you couldn’t hold your eyes open any longer.

You were woken to the sound of pounding and clanking and creaking which had you startled as you sat up in your bed and looked around your bedroom. The sun filled the space with light and you picked up your cellphone to note the time and saw a missed call from Harry.

Wrapping your robe around yourself you ran down the stairs all frazzled and rushed and burst onto the front porch, tripping over a stack of fresh boards and landing on your knees and palms like an idiot.

“Hey… hey…” you heard Harry’s deep voice from behind you as he slid his hands under your arms to help you up, “You okay?”

“Oh my god…” you croaked out the first words of the day from your throat, “I just woke up and realized you were here and… Sorry!”

He turned you to face him and looked down over your knees and lifted your palms upward to inspect, “Let’s get you cleaned up. Took quite the spill there. Sorry, I shouldn’t have stacked those boards right there.”

You felt your heart calm as he led you into your kitchen. He was so gentle with you, which for some reason you hadn’t expected. You knew he was kind but this seemed very much outside of the scope of his job description, “No, it’s fine! It’s me. I’d probably trip over the boards no matter where you had them stacked. I’m a bit of a nervous nelly. And when I woke up I just… I was startled. Fell asleep late and didn’t set an alarm…”

Harry grinned at you as you ran your faucet and put your hands under it, “It’s fine. No need to rush or get all riled up. I got here a bit early and when you didn’t answer I just figured I’d start on the porch. Think I’ll replace your doorbell as well. It’s not working either.”

You dried your hands and smiled at Harry, “I’ll get you a key before you leave today. In case I’m not here or I’m sleeping again. Sorry… I just had this burst of inspiration last night and typed until I passed out. It’s…”

“You’re fine,” you watched his eyes drop down to your torso and then bounce back up quickly to your face.

When you looked down at yourself you realized your robe was twisted and while all your bits were covered, they were barely covered.

“Jesus fucking Christ… I’m sorry, Harry. I’m a mess…” you pulled the material into place and adjusted the robe.

Harry put his hands at the tops of your arms, “Hey… you’re fine. Take a breath. It’s a beautiful morning and the birds are singing, and just look at this view…” he motioned toward your window where you could see trees and lush green grass stretch along the front of the house, “Now… Do you have some alcohol to clean up the cuts on your knees?”

You sighed and nodded, “Yeah. I’ll get it. You don’t have to do all this. I promise I’m fine. Just need to kind of wake up I think.”

Harry nodded, “Okay. I’ll get back to work out there. Gonna be some loud hammering and noises for a while.”

You cleaned yourself up and put actual clothes on before making coffee and bringing a hot mug out to Harry on a tray. This time, you carefully placed your steps around the boards and scanned the porch to see open spaces and nails in a tin next to fresh boards.

Harry was crouched along the railing and prying a board from its spot when he looked up at you.

“Coffee? Wasn’t sure if you take it with sugar or cream… Or maybe you just want tea?” You placed the tray down as he stood up.

“That’s really nice of you. Thank you. I would love some coffee. Black is fine.”

He took the mug by its handle and brought it up to his lips to take a sip.

“And if you’re hungry I could make you something?” You watched him gulp down the hot liquid.

Shaking his head he grinned at you, “Maybe lunch in a few hours. I ate breakfast already. But you don’t need to go out of your way to make anything. I can go into town for a sandwich, which is what I usually do.”

“Oh no. I’ll make you something for lunch! I insist! I love the company anyway. That way you can kind of relax instead of driving back and forth just to eat. Unless you want to get away for a bit. I mean…” you started rambling. You couldn’t help yourself. Harry’s biceps were on full display as he lifted the mug up to his mouth again and you could just feel your own mouthwatering at the sight. You hadn’t seen a man so attractive in a long time. All the city guys you dated were nice enough… but then there was Harry. Tall with broad shoulders and lean muscle all over, deep pink lips and light green eyes… and dimples… and he was handy? God, you weren’t sure how long you could go before you started to become obvious about how much you enjoyed letting your irises rove over his frame. That is if it wasn’t already obvious.

He watched you go on and on about lunch and then offer up other suggestions with a small smile on his face until you stopped when you realized you were yammering, “Sorry.”

“You okay?” He grinned. He knew you were fine. But he did wonder if you were flustered because of him or if that was how you just were.

“I’m fine. Sorry. Get kind of long-winded sometimes. I’ll let you get to it. Um… if you do want me to make you lunch just let me know. And uh…” you paused and then realized you were about to start yapping again, “I���ll get out of your hair.”

“Y/n,” Harry’s deep voice was soft as he spoke your name and you turned to look back at him, “Take a breath. It’s okay. We’ll have lunch together in a few hours. Yeah?”

You puffed out a breathy laugh and nodded before heading back inside with the tray that had sugar and milk atop.

You hadn’t considered it until then. Until you were placing the small crystal lid back onto the sugar bowl and putting the milk back into the refrigerator that your sudden burst of inspiration for the story you were working on was thanks to your handsome handyman. It also felt really good to have someone else there with you. Not that you didn’t feel safe there alone, but just having another presence near you was comforting.

And when you began to make up a lunch, something you hoped he’d like (you had to stop yourself from asking him if he’d want cucumbers and white cheese on his sandwich and just trust that it would be fine) you couldn’t help but peek out your window at him as he pounded his hammer down and wiped the sweat from his brow. His shirt was a bit damp as the sun was rising in the sky and the temperature with it.

Which then reminded you to plug in a fan so he could cool off while he ate with you. You set up the kitchen table and plugged in a fan to have it on for him as you both ate your sandwiches. As well as iced lemonade and chopped cherry tomatoes with basil and olive oil.

It was noon on the dot when you opened the door and poked your head out, “Lunch is ready if you’re hungry.”

Harry placed his hammer down and pushed himself up to stand as he nodded, “Thank you. Mind if I use the bathroom before?”

“Harry, you can use anything you want in the house. Feel free to come inside when you please. You don’t have to ask.”

“Well, thank you, Y/n. I appreciate it.”

You felt ridiculous as you paced your kitchen in wait for Harry to come in so you two could begin. The silly thoughts you had in your head about him had your heart lobbing around in your chest a bit too fast. You could just imagine (in the deepest little fantasy spot in your brain) that he’d take one bite of your sandwich and be so overcome by you that he’d have the sudden urge to lift you onto the table, push your dress up, and take you right there, knocking the lemonade down and forgetting all about the cherry tomatoes.

“Wow. This looks excellent. And you’re joining me?” He smiled as he stepped into the kitchen, his eyes on the table.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” you shrugged as you pulled a chair out for him, just in the path of the fan, “And if it’s okay, though I could have some with you. Keep you company. Unless I’m annoying you…”

Harry laughed and shook his head as he took his seat, “You’re the furthest thing from annoying, Y/n. In fact, I quite like talking to you. Sit,” he gestured at the spot where you’d placed your own plate with the sandwich. “The fan is a nice touch too. See, you’re just about the sweetest person I’ve ever worked for and it’s only been a few hours.”

You felt the skin on your cheeks heat up as you sat down in the wooden chair and looked at Harry. You really really tried not to look at him like that. But you could feel it oozing out of you as you batted your lashes and tilted your head down, your eyes still on him. You couldn’t help it!

And he saw it clear as day too. Grinning at you he took the glass of lemonade and gulped down about half as he watched you blink your eyes and then remove your gaze from his down to your plate.

“Thank you, Y/n,” he said as he placed the glass down and picked up his sandwich.

“You’re welcome, Harry.”

. . .

Harry didn’t take days off. He was at your house at 8 am sharp every morning and every day you were sure to make him a big lunch and chat with him a bit. But every day you fell further and further into a little spiral of want and lust. It was ridiculous but he wasn’t doing anything to dampen the way you felt.

Like after one lunch, he took his thumb and wiped the mustard from the edge of your mouth so nonchalantly you felt your knees give out and he had to help steady you. But you didn’t miss his smirk. Like he knew just what he was doing.

Or the time when you were walking from your bathroom to your kitchen after a shower and he’d gone out to buy supplies so you thought you were alone but instead walked past the huge window in only your underwear and bra as you were talking to yourself. Yapping away about whatever in your panties as you turned to the sink to wash some dishes but then yelped when you saw him standing there looking in, an expression of surprise on his face.

You had never run so fast in your life up to your room to put something on. And you should have known better. What was wrong with you? Of course, you were quite absent-minded at times, but that was something on another level.

But then it happened again that he saw you in only your skivvies as you traipsed to your bathroom and had forgotten that he was rewiring the second-floor hallway lights.

“Hey, sweetheart… just wanted to remind you that I’m here,” his voice startled you and you balked as you apologized and shut the bathroom door with a loud slam.

“Sorry, Harry!” You apologized again with your heart rapidly thudding behind your ribcage.

You could hear his voice through the bathroom door, “Don’t need to apologize. Doesn’t offend me. Just wanted to remind you I was here is all – in case you weren’t keen on me seeing you in your knickers.”

And Harry was like that. So gentle and thoughtful and there was the tiniest bit of flirtatiousness there too. Which really kept you on your toes around him. Made you feel all hot and gooey. Maybe if he didn’t grin at you the way he did or if he didn’t wipe mustard from your lips or call you sweetheart or compliment you as often you wouldn’t feel that tension there all the time.

But he did and so you did.

Which then led to you working up the nerve to start asking him to say for dinner. He’d sit in your kitchen after using your shower to clean up and watch (you insisted he didn’t help) as you made something for the both of you to eat.

At first, he didn’t stay every evening for dinner because he wanted to get home to clean up and you didn’t want to push and make it seem like you were needy for his company.

But soon, after suggesting he just use your shower, it was every night, and he began to bring a change of clothes so he could clean up before eating. And it felt like you were in some kind of bizarre relationship. Or, that’s what you pretended in your mind anyway. And it was fodder for your writing so you played into the fantasy a little bit.

Of course, there were also all the times you caught him with his shirt off. By the time he began working inside the house summer was in full swing and the place had no central air conditioning so it could get rather hot inside.

And it wasn’t just that you caught him with his shirt off… it was that he caught you staring while he was sans shirt, a sheen of sweat on his chest and at the nape of his neck, muscles flexing and tensing as he labored to make your house gorgeous and well-functioning.

Harry Styles was sexy. He was kind. He was charming and funny. He was smart. And you wanted him. Wanted him in a bad way.

And the days and weeks that drew on that feeling and that lust did not falter. No, it only widened and grew strong, steady thick roots into the ground and became fortified and strengthened with every little bit of contact you had with him. You wanted him so badly you could taste it. Feel it. Smell it.

“Let me get it!” He scoffed at you as he pulled the lid from the pot that was boiling over while you were chopping the tomatoes. You told him to stay seated because you wanted him to rest, that you’d get the boiling pot. He’d worked so hard that day (as he always did) and you knew he must be tired. But he dipped the spoon into the bubbling water and turned down the burner to lower the heat for you.

“I can help, Y/n. I know you’re just being sweet cause you think I’m all tuckered but I don’t mind. Really.”

You smiled as you sliced into the tomato, “Okay. I just want to make sure you’re not working extra. You work so hard every day and I feel like this is the least I can do for you.”

Harry pushed a soft laugh out through his nose as he placed the lid back onto the pot, “The least you could do is pay me for my work. And that you already do. This,” he gestured around the kitchen, “Is above and beyond. Not that I’m complaining.”

“Well, I just… I feel like we’re friends now and feels strange to send you home after,” you glanced at him to see that he was leaning his hip into the counter watching you in that way that he often looked at you. The one that made your skin sizzle.

When he didn’t respond you glanced at him again, “There’s a bottle of wine if you want to share? I think it’ll go really nicely with this dish.”

Harry pursed his lips and nodded, “Trying to get me drunk, sweetheart?”

You chuckled in surprise and shook your head, “Of course not!” Placing the knife down you turned to him, “I was only just suggesting it if you want. I mean… you don’t have to. I didn’t think a glass would be all that bad–“

“I’m teasing. It’s okay. I’ll have some wine with you,” he laughed at the way you suddenly bristled, “Where’s the wine opener? I’ll pour us both a glass.”

The wine turned out to be the perfect accompaniment for the pasta dish you’d made. But you knew it would be. In fact, you’d gone into town the night before to the olive oil and wine shop and selected the wine for that exact purpose after asking the owner what she thought. You weren’t sure if he’d like wine or not but you liked wine and it was a really nice bottle. Which you could afford now that you had a bit of money to your name.

And Harry agreed it was good as he poured you both another glass after you’d both finished your plates.

“So what are you writing anyway?” Harry asked as he leaned back in his chair and set his eyes on you.

“It’s a romance. You wouldn’t be into it I’m sure,” you shrugged as you sipped your wine.

“Why are you so sure I wouldn’t be into it? I love romance.”

“Oh. I guess men aren’t usually my target audience or prospective target audience… I haven’t actually published anything. Sorry… I shouldn’t assume I guess.”

“Tell me what it’s about.”

You cleared your throat and shook your head, “Oh… it’s not done. I’m kind of too bashful to talk about it just yet.”

Harry leaned his elbows onto the table and kept his gaze on you, “Oh come on… Tell me. I won’t judge. I want to know what kind of story you’ve been working on. And then I’ll tell you a secret of my own. How’s that sound?”

You sat your glass of wine down and licked your lips as you let your pupils take in his pretty lips, “Uh… fine…” you sighed and smiled. You wouldn’t tell him the whole thing but perhaps you could just make it brief. “It’s about a woman who takes on a new adventure in life and she meets a man unexpectedly and he helps her kind of navigate her new life… uh… like they have this unspoken connection and feel quite comfortable with one another off the bat. And it leads to a whirlwind romance that ends happily ever after.”

Harry tilted his head to the side and stitched his brows together, “Y/n…” Harry spoke your name as if he were about to scold you, “Give me some detail. What kind of new adventure is this woman taking?”

You looked up at the ceiling and felt your neck heat up. If you told him the premise he’d figure out you were basically writing a story that was a fantasy version of what you and Harry were doing.

But you didn’t want to lie and you could just tell him to drop it but you didn’t want to do that either. So you gulped down the saliva in your throat and laughed as you looked at him, “She inherits a gorgeous old house from a family member with all the money she’d need to hire a man to help her restore the place.”

The pleased look on his face had you looking away from him and down at your empty plate in full embarrassment.

“I see. So you’ve had some real-life inspiration since moving in here then.”

You nodded, a small laugh falling from your lips, “Yeah.”

“And this man helping her restore the old house? He’s the one she has her whirlwind, happy-ending romance with?”

You put your hands over your face, “Oh my god. I mean… yes. It’s just inspiration, though… like it wasn’t–“

Your words were cut off when you heard his chair scrape over the wooden floors and felt his hand at your back, “You don’t need to explain yourself. It’s just a story. Wanna hear my secret now? Level out the playing field a bit here.”

You pulled your hands away from your face and looked at him. He was sitting right next to you, so close you could see the pores on his nose as he offered you a dimpled grin. His hand gently rubbed at your back.

“Level out the playing field?”

His soft grin deepened as he slid his pupils down to your lips, “Yeah. You told me something that’s kind of a secret. If you want me to tell you a secret I will… kind of make it even.”

You swallowed with a nod as he moved his eyes over the expanse of your face and it felt like warmth seeping into your skin.

“See… So here’s the thing…” he paused to make sure you were paying attention, “I’ve been working for this insanely sweet-as-pie woman for a couple of months now. Just falling in love with every corner of the house that I touch… getting fed fruit and coffee every morning, sandwiches in the afternoon with lemonade and a fan to help cool me down, and then lately it’s spread into dinner… just me and her eating together in her kitchen, talking about nothing and everything as the sun goes down and then I go home at night alone and find myself unable to stop thinking about her and the way she laughs and the way I catch her staring at me when I’ve sweat through my shirt…”

You were holding your breath as he spoke and it was making your head fuzzy and your heart thud and your skin light up as he slowly worked his hand up to the back of your neck, fingers grazing the skin… it felt like you were watching a movie play out before you. Like it wasn’t real.

“And I think to myself… what if she feels the same way about me that I feel about her? Ya know? I mean I’ve seen the way she looks at me. That can’t be an accident. And she’s even started to ask me to stay even later after dinner to have dessert and even though my stomach is always stuffed full of the food she’s fed me and I couldn’t imagine eating another thing I’m always tempted to stay a little longer with her. Just to see where it goes,” the pad of his finger worked up your neck as you turned your gaze down to your hand on the table, “To find out if her dessert is just as tasty as everything else she’s offered me. And of course, I have no doubt that it would be.”

You stayed quiet. You couldn’t believe he’d just said all that. Like he was reading your story and knew what you wanted to happen next. Slowly you brought your gaze back to his and spoke shakily, “Harry…”

“You want me to stay for dessert tonight, Y/n?” You could feel the brush of his thumb along one side of your throat and the press of the pads of his fingers gently on the other side, palm flat against the back of your neck. And that question. It meant more than what he said and you both knew it.

“Yes. If you want,” you swallowed and kept your eyes on his face as he lowered his gaze to your mouth again. His hand at the back of your neck tensed and you could feel him pulling at you, just the last few inches needed to brush his lips against yours in a tentative move, allowing you to breach the space completely, moving in and pressing your mouth firmly against his.

And it was everything. Warm and soft and wet and then he inhaled sharply and opened his mouth to paint his tongue over your lips and you responded in kind, using your tongue against his and you felt his free hand pull at your hip. You smoothed your hands up his strong arms and to his shoulders and your heart felt full and light all at the same time.

When you felt the fine hairs at the nape of his neck under your fingers he shifted and pulled at you, both hands gripping your hips and bringing you up out of your chair and placing your bottom on the sturdy wood of the kitchen table, the plates pushed to the side and your nearly empty glass of wine wobbled in its spot as he kept his mouth over yours and he fit himself between your legs.

“Always wearing pretty skirts and dresses for me, aren’t you?” His lips traveled down your jaw and pressed over the skin on your pulse point, “Been teasing me this whole time…” slow pecks down to your clavicle and then back up the other side of your neck as he planted his palms flat onto the table next to your thighs, “Just know you wanted me to see you in your panties all those times… acted all innocent like you didn’t know you were giving me a show…”

You gasped when you felt his teeth gently scrap at your jaw before pushing plush pink lips over the same spot, “Harry…” you breathed out his name.

“Mmm… love how you say my name too,” he spoke as he moved his mouth back over yours and it was game over. Teeth and tongues, and wet lips with moans as he slid a thumb under the hem of your dress to glide up your thigh. He pressed himself in further, making you lay back on the table, your saltshaker and napkin holder tipping over as he ran his hands up your sides.

“Is this what you wanted? All this time, Y/n?”

You moaned as he began to pepper his kisses down your neck once again, your body lighting up with every touch and whisper into your skin.

“Yes…”

“Yeah,” he looked up at you with his hands firm around your waist before he moved them down to push at your skirt, shoving the material up your thighs, “And what about this? Is this what you want too?”

You pushed yourself up by your elbows and nodded, “Yeah…”

Harry grinned as his fingers found your panties and he tucked his middle fingers into the band, “Wanna give me my dessert now?”

His light jade eyes were sparkling as he waited for your nod of approval, the small yes you peeped out had him tearing your panties down your legs, left to drape off your left foot as he pushed your thighs apart and moaned, “It’s the only dessert I’ve wanted since you first started offering. Smells so good too,” he dropped his mouth to the inside of your plush thigh and ran his big palms upward on the underside of your thighs to press your legs back and you gurgled a moan as you watched him dip down and tongue at your pussy, his wet muscle slicking upward from your entrance to your clit and then repeated, and repeated, over and over as he kept his eyes on yours until you were so slick he was barely making contact with your skin… your arousal had coated your pussy and his tongue in a thick layer.

“Fuck me… sweetheart… you’re gonna give me a toothache with all this sweet juice…” he spoke mindlessly as he lapped at you. He brought a hand down to your pussy, running his fingers through your crease as he pressed his tongue to your clit and kissed it, bringing it delicately into his mouth with a gentle slurp.

“Ahh! Harry!” You reached down to pull at his hair as your back arched up and your head fell back into the wood.

The moment Harry felt your grip on his hair he spread your pussy with his fingers and drove a digit inside, curling it in and brushing against the spot you loved to focus on when you fingered yourself, making your body shiver.

Your table was rattling from the movements you were making, the lewd act causing the wooden legs to shift and give slightly as Harry ate your pussy and moaned at your taste.

“Gonna let me have some every night now?” His words came out watery, and slurred as he continued working to get you off, “Gonna let me take care of you the way you’ve been taking care of me?”

You cried out in a gurgle when you felt another finger press inside as he flattened his tongue over your pussy, “Yes!”

Harry grinned into your pussy. Seemed all you could say at that point was a combination of yes and Harry. He loved how you were responding to him. Like it was all you ever wanted.

When he felt you roll your hips up and grind into his mouth he pressed your thigh down and dug in harder, flicking his eyes up at you from time to time, watching the way your chest rose and fell heavy, how your lips were dropped wide open with your eyes closed.

“Y’shaking so hard, sweetheart. You can come if you need to,” he slid his fingers into the last knuckle and back out as he spoke, lips grazing your wet clit as he did so, “You’ve been so good to me, you deserve a treat too…”

Your brain was in a fog, a haze that made it hard to hear or make sense of his words as your orgasm tiptoed its way through your tummy and down into your core, slowly sliding its way through your organs until it burst out of you and your limbs stiffened as you pressed Harry’s face into your pussy and moaned his name so loudly Harry figured it was a good thing you didn’t have any neighbors close by to hear what could sound like someone being attacked.

But in a way, you were being attacked. Harry’s lips and his tongue and his fingers ravaged you through your orgasm, never letting up or stopping until you gasped and pushed at him as you sat up with wet lips, burning cheeks, and dark eyes, “Oh god, Harry!”

The dirty smirk on his face was pure sex as he pulled his fingers out of your sticky pussy and slid you from the table, making you wrap your legs around his waist as he carried you to your room, his mouth on yours.

You began to squeak in protest as he lifted you and started up the stairs and you were certain it was too much weight or that he’d drop you but he was solid and strong and moved with ease, holding you tight under your bottom with one hand and his other at your mid back until he laid you on your bed with a bounce.

Harry began to pull his jeans down his strong legs and you watched as he undressed. It was the first time you’d seen his bottom half but just as his chest and shoulders and abs did not disappoint, neither did his masculine, well-muscled thighs and buttocks. The man was in incredible shape, thanks to good genes and hard manual labor you assumed.

When Harry peeled his shirt off over his head, the curls were pushed upward and he was left standing in your bedroom looking like a man ready to ransack your body with wild hair, tight boxer briefs hiding an erection that looked quite sizable.

Silently he kneed onto the bed between your legs and pushed your dress out of the way, “Let me see you, sweetheart. Is that okay?”

You helped him bring the dress off over your head and immediately reached up to unpluck your bra, the clasp at the front that once undone had your tits bursting out.

“Holy, fuck…” Harry dove down to your breasts, lapping and squeezing at each one and you placed your fingers back into his hair as if it were their new home. The length was perfect to grip onto.

He pushed himself up as he cupped your tits together and kept his eyes on your flesh and nipples with mouth dropped open, “Goddamn, sweetheart…” He dipped down again, wetting the skin all around your breasts with his lips and tongue until you bucked upward and your wet pussy kissed his belly button.

Popping off from your nipple he looked down at you underneath his large frame and smoothed his hands down your sides and over your tummy then to your hips. He thumbed at your clit and looked up at you, not an ounce of humor on his face, “I can eat your pussy all night. Want my mouth again?” He licked his lips.

“Want to feel it, Harry…” you breathed out.

“Want to feel my mouth again?”

You moaned and slid your palm down his chest and felt the bit of hair on his pecs tickle your skin, “Your cock.”

“Is that right? Sweetheart wants her handyman to stuff her full tonight?” Now you could see the small smirk on his face as he looked at your tits and then back up to your eyes.

“I want you to stuff me full, Harry. I want to feel it.”

Harry wet his lips again as he moaned at your words and tore his boxer briefs down his thighs and to the floor.

He sat back onto his haunches, eyes on yours as he held himself at his base. His thick ruddy tip smooth and ready to pierce into your cunt had you groaning, “Please.”

“You wanna be my girl, Y/n? Be mine? Cause I don’t fuck unless I know I can keep coming back. I don’t do casual, sweetheart.”

You shook your head, “I don’t either. I’ll be yours. Your girl.”

“You sure? You want to date a small-town handyman, make me dinner every night, and get fucked into this soft bed until you’re passed out?”

“Oh my god, Harry,” you moaned and nodded, “Yes. Please…”

Harry scooted in toward you, and his massive cock was just throbbing before your eyes. That thing was going to do some damage to you but you would happily receive it. Take it every night like he said, looked forward to feeling how much he’d fill you up and how deep he’d get, how much it’d ache when he pounded into you.

His hand slid behind your neck, fingers wrapping around the back side as he hovered over you, “Pussy’s so little, sweetheart. Might need to hold on at first okay?”

The dimple popping into his cheek told you he was playing with you. And while, yes, he was quite large, that bulbous tip and thick shaft would definitely be felt entering you, there was no question it’d tuck nicely into your slippery walls.

You gripped his biceps as you kept your eyes focused on his. He glided his fat tip through your pussylips with the slushy wet sound of your arousal coating his cock, drenching his leaking slit until he was sticking the crown at your opening, his lips parted as he pressed into your muscle and penetrated you slowly.

“Mmm… fuck me, sweetheart,” his voice was hiked up a notch in a whine as he clenched his teeth upon entry, “Y’mine now? Yeah?”

You nodded and whimpered, “Harry… oh god I’m yours…”

Harry nodded with you, his eyes focused on your face as he opened you up, and spread you apart inch by inch. When he’d gotten in halfway he reared himself back, that wide tip sliding out of your cunt just before he pressed himself back in, nudging in deeper. The intrusion was all-consuming. Harry’s hard cock was long and thick. But of course, it was. A man like him with a body like that… But it was his demeanor that had tipped you off at the beginning that he had a big dick. That personality that oozed with natural confidence.

“Oh, my fuck!” You wailed as he drove into you again, this time with a bit of force that had his hips grinding into yours.

“Yeah? It’s big in there isn’t it? Need me to be gentle?”

You could just see it in his eyes. He did not want to be gentle. The man above you, fucking into you was holding himself back. He was taking it easy for your sake. But you wanted him to ruin you. Wanted your pussy wrecked by that thick cock, needed to let him have his way with your body so he could get off.

“No… fuck me like you want. Harry…” you whimpered his name as you cupped his jaw, stubble scraping your palm as he slowly thrust into you, “Make me yours. Show me how you do it.” You wanted to feel his strength. Wanted to know what it felt like to have him completely destroy your pussy.

Harry let out a deep groan then hissed as he ground into your cunt, his cock grazing that achy spot deep inside that you knew was gonna be bruised once he was done with you, “Don’t want to hurt your cute little pussy, Y/n. Can already feel I’m in as deep as I can go.”

“Harry, make me yours. Please.”

“Fuck…” he gritted out as he adjusted his knee placement, lifting himself with his thighs and readying his position to rail into you like you wanted. He pulled your hands up and placed your palms onto his lats as he leaned over you, “Hold on here. Tell me to stop if it’s too much.”

You gripped your fingers into the muscle of his back and felt him flexing as he drew his long cock back and bucked in with one harsh thrust. The wind nearly knocked from your lungs as he did it again. He was still taking it easy. Long heavy strokes into your guts, hips slapping into yours in thuds until he got into a rhythm and your high-pitched moans told him you were loving it.

Soon your bed was loudly creaking, the mattress springs bouncing heavy and his balls were whacking into your bum. Wet patting of skin colliding and heavy pants filled the room.

“Like this?” He gritted as his pelvis repeatedly smashed into your clit filling your veins with damp mushy heat as your pussy clamped over him.

“Fffffuuu…” you cried out. Not a word but an answer. You did like it. Every time he filled you to the brim with his fat cock and your pussy parted for him, spreading apart to accommodate his hefty girth it brought you closer and closer to the precipice.

Harry choked out a moan when he felt his own orgasm edge toward the brink slowly. The way you gripped around him, the perfect warm and wet hole attached to the sweetest thing he’d ever met made his heart thrash in his chest harshly.

He couldn’t believe that he was getting to fuck you. That you promised to be his. That things had worked out the way they had. Because he’d started falling for you since day one. He had been impressed that you wanted to salvage the old house and to him, that meant you were already special. A city girl with a heart of gold who didn’t mind getting her hands dirty. And when you told him you ripped out some of the rotted boards from the porch on your own his cock twitched in his pants. The image in his mind of you doing that was hot.

And as the days and weeks went on he learned more about you and he became obsessed with making everything in the house just perfect for you. He often daydreamed of living in it with you. Getting to see you every day after work with a kid or two running around. While it was too early to think about all that, he couldn’t help it. Harry was a sincere and deeply emotional man who prized deep connections and love over everything. He’d never been able to do casual.

He was brought back to the moment when your face began to screw up in pleasure and your punched breaths began to grow into loud moans with every snap of his hips.

You, on the other hand, were thinking of nothing but that big cock sliding through your insides and ramming into your depths, your tummy aching at the stretch and the way he filled you so completely. Your brain was empty as he sliced through you, fucking you down into your soft blankets as his chest and arms and shoulders tensed.

“Ooohh, sweetheart… like that yeah? That what you need? Right there?”

Your arousal had dripped from your hole and drenched your ass and the blanket under you, your gushy wetness slopped out with every push of his cock into your pussy.

Harry could feel your thighs quivering and shaking as you started to arch into him, loud bursts of moans belted from your lungs on each plunge.

Harry was losing his mind at the noises you were making and how good you felt squeezing around him, “Gonna have to move myself in here so I can have you like this every day… look at you taking me so well… fucking creaming all over me…” his string of consciousness continued as he railed into you deeply and you felt your insides snap suddenly, your orgasm erasing all working thoughts from your brain.

“Yes! Fuuuuck! Yes! I need you!”

“Need you too, Y/n. I fucking need you baby… come all over me, show me how good that is… fuck… fuck…” Harry clenched his jaw as you squelched around him, your slippery hole clenching so hard you nearly pushed him out but he was stronger as he continued to pound into you, bringing you through your ecstasy until he couldn’t go another moment without coming.

He began unloading into you, heavy, thick pumps of come filled your insides as he coughed out a groan and stilled his hips with your pussy milking him, pussy fluttering and squeezing every drop from his long shaft. You’d both lost your good senses in that moment. No thought about what was responsible or reasonable, it was only about how good it felt to be connected, new lovers enjoying one another and not giving a damn about the consequences.

Harry’s mouth pressed into yours and he moaned sloppily against your wet lips, bodies throbbing and shaking and lungs gasping for air as you wrapped your legs around his waist and hummed in bliss.

Harry’s heart was going wild as he dropped his chest to yours and licked into your mouth, one final push of his cock into your cervix for good measure, pressing his come deeper yet.

“Oh my god,” you breathed out in a mumble as his lips still smeared against yours.

“I know…” he responded with his eyes closed as he continued kissing you.

Your fingers wound into his hair and he rolled you both to your sides, still connecting and simmering and reeling.

“I think now you have to stay,” you parted from the kiss and looked at him with a small smile. Hoping he’d agree to it. You weren’t ready to let him go home yet.

“Wasn’t planning on going anywhere. You’ll have to forcibly remove me from you now.”

You giggled and cupped his cheeks, “Good. Means you aren’t gonna be leaving then.”

Harry’s soft smile and his big hands on you felt like home. More than anything had before. The old house was your home, yes, but ever since Harry walked into your life you were a changed woman.

“So you’re mine now? Can I call you my girlfriend?”

You puffed out a laugh through your nose, “Of course. Long as I can call you my boyfriend.”

“Of course. Been dreaming about it since I first met you.”

You licked your lips, “Yeah? Guess we both wasted a lot of time beating around the bush didn’t we?”

Harry shook his head, “Nahh… we didn’t waste time. Every moment spent with you was exactly what was supposed to happen. Got to know you real well. Got to learn all kinds of things about you. I feel like the way it happened wasn’t supposed to happen any other way.”

You nodded and bit your lip. He was probably right. The time you two spent chatting and flirting and getting to know one another slowly made you both open up and feel more comfortable in each other’s presence. And it all led to that very moment right there in your bed.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen any other way.”

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