#harry fanfic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sushirrrry · 3 months

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wrangled

a harry styles one-shot. 14k words. cw: age-gap, sexual content, spitting, spanking, squirting, dirty talk, humiliation kink, coarse language, dom/sub kink

Forte Ranch.

Kettle Falls, Washington.

June Forte is the 24 year old daughter of Travis Forte– the owner of the largest bison ranch in eastern Washington. When she returned home from college, her wishes of becoming a teacher in the area land her with a few different jobs– one that also includes the family business.

It's not lost on her that when she starts noticing that a superbly handsome, older ranch-hand who introduces himself in a deep-posh accent as Harry Styles, that she seems to lose a bit of focus on the picture: make enough money to leave Kettle Falls for good.

But, the older man seems to keep running into her no matter how many times she tries to leave. Maybe, she recognizes, that it isn't a coincidence.

When Harry and June are one day left alone, the tensions are higher than ever. Once June gets a taste, her intuition starts to let her know that maybe seeing the dimples underneath the brim of the Stetson is easier to lean into rather than run from.

He's not letting her run away that easy.

"Goddamnit, Fury– let's go!"

She pulled at the lead; the rope pulled at her hands a bit when the horse continued to stand his ground, obviously more powerful than her.

A quick sigh, a puff of air to move some of the hair off of her face. June couldn't help but groan at the horse's stubbornness that kept him inside the confines of his stall.

She had a lesson in an hour now. Not that it would have been a huge deal— the family that she taught for were very laid back, but her need to follow a schedule made Fury's outburst quite annoying as it would take a bit of time to get him out now.

The horse-riding lessons that she had been giving were supplementing the cash flow through the summer. Next year, she would be starting a position as a teacher at one of the local schools in the area. June had gone to school in Seattle; it was the biggest culture shock for her when she arrived in the big city.

From growing up on the ranch to moving to the big city with just what she could fit in her dad's pick-up–she had loved every moment of it. She loved seeing the way that the traffic built up everywhere in the early mornings, the honking horns, the sleepy travelers in the coffee shops every morning.

It was a learning experience that she had been blessed with. But, in reality, her heart stayed in the eastern mountains; the smell of the fresh air every morning gave her such a high that she hadn't been expecting to miss with her whole heart.

Living on this ranch, in this small town, had been in her heart this whole time. She hadn't recognized how much of her she still had to learn.

When you're young, you want so bad to leave. Then, you see the rest of the world, and you find home so much more appealing. It feels secure, it feels like a place that you can come back to when you're finished exploring.

It's a place to relax. A place to replenish. A place to house your soul.

Now, she say her fighting with her horse who seemed to have the upper-hand.

"Fury, if you don't come on," She rubbed the horse's nose, giving him a look as he tilted up his head quickly. "You're being so stub—"

"Might wanna give him something to entice him."

The sound behind her makes June jump with a fright, a gasp escaping as she had been lost in her own world. There's a man standing on the opposite side of her now, unlocking the gate of the horse stall. She hadn't noticed him before, so she wondered how long he had been standing there watching her struggle with the ropes her hands.

A chestnut mare stands, grunts softly in front of him as he looks back at her. June recognized the man, which didn't seem to happen often. The farm has lots of people coming through, many stay for weeks– months, maybe. The summer months are preparing for the winter; she knew that a lot more came around at this time of the year.

But she recognized him.

There wasn't a person who wouldn't.

The man's accent threw her for a moment– not realizing if she had heard him speak before. She mustn't have, or she'd know the low drawl of a foreign tongue.

But there's a few certain men that have been around for a bit. This man, in particular, she thought. He wears his hair longer, a bit down on his ears. He pushes it back into his Stetson, the chocolate curls have grown every time she sees him closer.

He has a soft scruff along his jawline that was really only visible up close; a white tank top that has seen better days when it was a pure white on the rack. June lets her eyes wander for a moment before she sees that he notices, a hint of pink painting her cheeks as she watches that he seems to go on about his day without another word.

Not to mention: if you stared at him in the heat of the eastern Washington sun, it was entirely too close to see the shade of green that his eyes shone. They practically became translucent at how luminous they became.

June was a bit taken; her hands adjust on the lead as she watched the man throw a bridle over the large mare's nose. He clicked his tongue to get her to follow, the mare following him out of the stall easily. June watched at how easy it was; she knew Fury was a bit hard-headed to begin with, so it couldn't have been that easy no matter what he had said to her.

As the man started walking away just a bit, Fury took a step forward which helped June aid him out of the stall. It threw her for a moment, her body moving forward to help lead the horse where he needed. He followed, though a bit slowly as he shook his head when she pulled in the lead towards the saddling.

"See, told you," The man spoke once again, nodding his head a bit towards his mare, "Men are always enticed by pretty ladies."

He had taken the saddle off of the stand, throwing it over the mare's back. June's eyes stared at the way his muscles popped through the sleeveless shirt, pushing the heavy riding saddle up further on the horses back.

"Going for a ride?" The man spoke again, watching as June hooked Fury up to stand so that he was secured. June hadn't spoken yet, feeling her voice caught in her throat over the way that he had been a bit chatty with her. Her eyes drifted over to him, knowing he had been talking to her again which elicited a response.

She bit her lip, pulling up on the loops of her jeans that hugged around the curve of her hips.

"No, I teach, actually." June commented, brushing down Fury's neck before pushing some of his mane out of his eyes.

The horse chewed a bit, making her smile as his lips tried to nip at her arm. "Have a lesson soon. He's the best with kids, gives them a hard time but it's good for them to learn how to be a bit more assertive. He listens when you're real strict with him, just not well."

"Really all the qualities of a man, huh?" The man smirked; they stood next to each other at the station before June looked over and he had started to move towards her. His hand outreached, his eyes truly on her now as they became closer with each step he took. "Harry Styles."

June swallowed back, her hand moving out towards his as they locked together in a moment. "June Forte. You're a worker here?"

Harry's eyes shift for a moment when he notices the deep blue of her eyes and the familiarity of her generational smile. His tongue flicks out to run over his bottom lip as he lets his eyes drag over her a moment. June squirms under his vision, her breath halted as he takes his hand away and their touch loosens.

"And this is your ranch, I presume." He speaks, his words standing in the air.

June shrugs her shoulders up as if his comment didn't mean much. "Not mine– well, my family's, so technically will be mine or my siblings someday. My dad's dream was to own it, and I guess now he does. Was my grandads, and my great-grandads. He built it, and it's just a family heirloom now. But yeah– we live up there."

Harry's breath baited for a moment, a small scoff of a chuckle leaving his lips as he moved back towards the mare. The mare stomped on the ground, his hand moving to comfort her outburst.

"Guess I don't need to be flirting with the ranch owner's daughter, then. May be a conflict of interest."

June raised a brow at his words, feeling a hotness come across her neck as she moved to throw the big brush through Fury's chestnut coat. She faced away from him now, her head turning to look over her shoulder at the way he continued to smirk at her.

For the first time in a while, June's sharp tongue felt dull. She didn't know what to say as she felt some hair fall into her face as she managed to push the heavy brush through the horse's coat.

"Never been a huge rule follower, though." He followed up, pulling the reins of the tacked horse; he walked backwards out of the barn with his eyes on June– the shape of her body only let his eyes fall down and around her curves.

A soft chuckle came from her lips as she heard the clicking of his tongue, guiding the mare out. "Easy, cowboy." She called back, in a surprising quip, "My ranch, my rules."

"So now you're the boss?" He quipped, "giving me mixed signals, June." Harry paused for a moment, giving her a moment to comeback.

"Let's just say I'm pretty close to the guy in charge." June tilted her head, "But I'd say that flirting with the boss's daughter isn't in your best interest if you want to stick around."

June watched the man quickly bite his lip as if he was stopping himself from another remark.

"We'll see about that one." He called back, his boots crunching on the gravel once again, his eyes staying on her even when leading the large horse out of the barn. "Might be the opposite effect if I'm lucky."

June bit her lip at the thought of him– wondering if he had seen her before. Her legs adjusted just at the thought of his low, raspy voice. She hasn't heard it before, but now all she could hear was his words in the back of her head.

"Hope you find a four-leaf clover out there, gonna need it." June said back, watching as he moved away, a wink flying back at her.

She huffed, looking at her horse before a shake of her head made her feel a bit dizzy.

Maybe it wasn't the head shake that made her feel that way.

***

The following morning, Fury continued to give June quite a time. He was a stubborn horse, but she knew that he trusted her and vice versa. June never felt that she had a problem with him, he had been her horse for over ten years now.

June grew up with horses, riding and watching them was in her blood. She loved riding and watching people become more comfortable as they rode more. It was a pleasure for her to teach young kids to be comfortable and confident while riding, especially when it taught discipline and hard work.

Nothing about riding horses was easy– she continued to learn that the hard way. It took trust, and lots of effort to make sure that the animal underneath you trusted every part of you. The hardest part was putting your life in their hands. But, it was always worth taking that chance.

He kicked a few times, the young girl that she had for the lesson this morning was mostly scared that she was going to fall off. June reassured her that she would hold his lead, but that she needed to be strong.

"When you're scared, he's going to be scared," June tried to reassure her, watching the young girl— her name was Natasha, she was around eleven. "You have to be in control of him, and he's going to respond to you. But we can end the lesson a bit early if you're feeling some nerves— that's okay, too."

Natasha gave June a look; she was unsure, and June could read all over it. However, Natasha pushed through some of her nerves, which led to June eventually letting go of the reins and letting the girl trot some laps around the outside arena space.

"You got it!" She yelled over, staying on the fence, her eyes lighting up at the girl's excitement over her accomplishments of getting the horse to where she wanted him. "Let's loop around one more time, and then bring it back to the center."

June pushed her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. The outside training grounds was a large area of the ranch, covered by trees and small patches of grass. She tucked some hair behind her ear that had fallen out of the messy bun she pulled at the base of her neck.

A small noise caught her attention as she started to make her way to the center of the arena to meet Fury and Natasha. June bit on her lip as she squinted in the early morning sun that was casting over the field down to the bison pasture. The gates had opened, watching the man from earlier in the saddle atop the chestnut mare.

His head turned to check that the smaller bison calves had made their way through to the other side of the fence.

"Shut 'em in!" He yelled, pulling at the reins of his horse before the other ranch-hand pulled at the metal gate on the other side.

The field sat opposite of the smaller training field that had been built for June's benefit; she absolutely loved teaching, loved the elements of getting young riders out on the back of a horse to feel the fresh breeze in their hair. It had been so therapeutic to her growing up when everything felt that it could have fallen apart at any moment— this was her world.

Growing up on the ranch had been a saving grace for her. It was the yin to the yang of the city that she had grown to love. She had never had the opportunity to fall in love with another place like she had with Seattle.

It didn't hurt that these were the kinds of views that she had, either.

June hadn't been paying attention as she heard her name being called; her head whipped around as she watched Fury stomp a few times and start to buck and push the young girl. June watched her expression as she held at the fence, watching the young girl struggle with the large stallion.

"Hold on, Natasha!" June yelled, sitting up on the large fence before she cupped her hands over her mouth, "Pull the reins real hard to the left!"

She could see the fear on the girls face as she tried to brace, tried to do what June had told her to. She wasn't strong enough to manage the horse as her foot slid from the saddle and her body flung to the side and off into the dirt of the ring.

June gasped outwardly with a few curses as she ran towards where the girl was flung off. Fury moved away now that she felt safe enough that she could grab her and move out of the ring. She felt horrible not being to stop it before it started, not reading the language of the horse before it was too late.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" June asked, the young girl sitting up on her elbows as she tried to brush herself off. "You're not hurt, are you? Nothing feels broken?"

She shook her head, the helmet bearing her fall as she seemed to just be a bit more traumatized than hurt. The adrenaline must've been moving through her as they stood up, June helping her as she looked around the ring to notice that the horse had made his way out of the ring through the gate she had opened, ready to lead them out.

"Shit!" June yelled out, her head moving around at an attempt to find the horse that had been trotting away. She tucked the hair behind her ear as she turned to look around.

"I'm so sorry," Natasha started, obviously in shock, "I-I didn't– I got scared."

June turned to the girl, shaking her head profusely. "No, no, sweetie. It's fine– as long as you're okay."

June took Natasha out of the ring, climbing up the fence and over to the grassy knoll. Her hands landed on her hips as she searched around for Fury who had gotten loose.

"Fuck," She whispered under her breath.

She didn't expect him to get so agitated. She hasn't had that happen before, which set her alert on high. Fury was the horse that she trained on, and without him, she couldn't hold onto her lesson schedule.

The next one was in twenty minutes, so she needed to figure out a plan on how to catch him.

The first part of the plan was to find the horse that had seemingly run away and out of the gate. Her attention moved back towards the young girl, who had taken off her helmet and seemed to have calmed down just a bit. She rubbed at her elbow that had a bit of a scratch.

"You head back to barn," She told Natasha, "If you see him, holler really loud for me. I'm going to go to the other fields, see if I can catch him."

The young girl agreed, making her way back down to the barns where her mother had been while she took the lesson. She would tell them what had happened, and to make sure they could catch him if he got around.

June started up towards the bison fields– the ranch handlers had been up there just a few moments prior to the incident, and she may have an idea of where the horse had run to. The property was large, almost three hundred acres of land. But, with the number of trees and wooded miles, it would be harder to catch him than it was with the open spaces.

The Forte ranch was surrounded by mountainous regions, which was good for the bison and the elk that were seemingly farmed in the area. June's family kept bison and yak, which was separate to the ranches out in the southwest. Their ranch was green and grassy, surrounded by lakes and streams with glaciers and chilly mornings.

The summer heat didn't always feel like summer, which was what made the mornings so delightful. It was June's favorite parts about the lifestyle of working outside, she felt like there was so much more to see and so much more to take in. It was her own sense of meditation.

"Hey," June called out to the two men sitting on the fences. "Did you see my horse run by? He threw my rider off and fled, and I didn't really see where he went."

The two men seemingly similar looked at one another before shaking their head, practically ignoring her as they continued to haul a few bales of hay into a truck that was backed up to the fence. "Sorry, hon, no."

June placed her hands in her back pockets before she stared at them for a moment. "Okay, well, he's black. Long white stripe down his nose, kinda pink on the end. His name is Fury, but he doesn't usually respond," She blinked a few times, starting to ramble as she thought for a moment, "Probably why he's being a pain in the ass."

She could tell that the men were seemingly uncaring for her request, so she sniffled out of awkwardness before her boots started to move her to the other end of the field.

A good thirty minutes flew by as she walked along the edges of the property, whistling softly for any sight of where the horse could've gone. The sudden sound of clicking made her head turn towards the wooded area; a strike of fear spooking her as she turned. It wasn't that she feared being on her own, but something about being vulnerable ate away at her.

Her heart instantly dropped as she saw two horses, one ridden and the other being held close by the familiar leather reins. The rider in question familiar as she felt her lips quirk up in a smirk at the look on the man's face. She released the breath she had been holding in.

"Think you're supposed to stay on the horse, not let him run away." The deep voice teased. He had been holding the reins of Fury while riding his own.

"He threw my rider," She told him, "I was trying to make sure that she was okay, and he ran off."

"She was quite young," He commented, obviously seeming a bit worried now. He slowed his horse down, the horse standing in front of June as she went to pet down the mare's nose. It crossed her mind that he had noticed her earlier, possibly been staring. "Was she okay?"

June shrugged, nodding. "No broken bones. Maybe a bit of broken spirit."

"You know what they say," He licked over his lip, "Gotta' get back in the saddle." It was then that a smile broke on his face, which halted her breath at the beauty of it.

She laughed at his dry humor, raising her brows. "They do say that, but I'm going to have to do a bit more training with him. He needs to be better for younger riders."

Harry threw the reins over his horse's head, June caught them in her own grip. She looked back up at him again with a small smile. "I appreciate your help– catching him and all that."

"Pretty good portion of my job," He told her, turning the horse a bit so he could face her better.

June had started to lead the horse back in the direction of where the ring and the barn were before Harry stopped her with his words.

"C'mon, hop on," He told her, shifting in his saddle, "We're almost a mile away. You don't want to have to walk."

June's eyes shifted a bit as she pulled at Fury's lead, walking backwards as she thinks about his request for a moment. It catches her off guard, but she shakes her head.

"I think I can walk," She assures him him with a chuckle. He sways a bit in the saddle as he starts after them, obviously going in the same direction.

"Didn't say you couldn't," He remarks back, June hears his tone and looks back instantly, watching his eyes lay on her. Her stomach dropped at the way his gaze felt; his words playing off the sharpness of his jaw, "Also wasn't looking for an answer, just action."

June eyed him for a moment, almost a stand off from her spot on the ground. She inhaled sharply before she bit the inside of her cheek. She didn't understand the feeling in her chest that had anchored its way down to a bit of heat. The authoritative speaking of his voice made her swallow.

"But what if I wanted to walk?"

June watches the twitch of his face when she denied him– when she didn't do as he asked. When she didn't succumb to his request; which, she was learning was more of a nice way to demand rather than request.

The man slipped off the saddle, moving away from the mare before he was now standing in front of June with her hair pulled from her face. The freckles on her nose were surrounded by a bit of sun-kiss, which the man took as a reward for being so close. His eyes trained in her for a moment before he noticed the hitch in her breath as they were toe to toe.

June subconsciously took a small step back before she felt the touch of his hand on her wrist. Her eyes stayed along the collar of the navy t-shirt that seemed a bit pulled at the collar. While a contrast to the white tank he wore yesterday, this accentuated the bronze of his skin from working out in the summer heat. The warmth of the summer sun has bronzed him, leaving the ink of his arms darker in contrast.

He took a package out of his back pocket, the cigarette between his fingers and dangling from his mouth now as his bright green eyes have a playful lift to them. She watches him teasingly as he lets it dangle from his tongue before placing one on her lip too, waiting for her lip to catch it.

She doesn't tell him that she only smokes when she can't sleep, or when she's stressed out by something her family has said. But she doesn't say anything, just sends him a smirk as they stand toe to toe. His fingers snap the lighter to his, hers next as he takes a draw.

"Anyone looking for you?" His voice was as smooth as leather as he kept his eyes directed to the way her cheeks sunk into breath in the smoke.

"Probably." She responds, drawing her lips between her teeth. She felt the stare down but folded as soon the dimple popped through the right of his cheek. "I have a lesson that should be starting."

He shrugged, "Your horse ran off, nothing you can do."

June went to speak, her head turning towards Fury before Harry looked down the gravel road towards the home– over a mile away like he had mentioned.

Her words got caught in her throat before she can respond, just putting the cigarette up to her lips before she licked her tongue over her bottom lip that had turned into a smile. June bites the inside of her cheek before she looks over Harry who's already moving away from her.

"What're you doing back here?" He asked her, his European accent ringing a bit different, "thought you moved to the city."

Her thoughts ran to the fact that he knew that much about her. She wondered if her dad had mentioned her before, or if he was just paying attention. Either way, her answer to him stayed true.

"I knew I wanted to work my way back here," June told him honestly, "I wanted to work back home. But I need to save some money."

Harry bit his lip as he held the reins of the horse, pulling his over just a bit to start back down the path. It was slow, but it was moving a bit. June knew she was late to her riding session, but she figured it would've been fine anyways– she wasn't going to let her students ride Fury at this point.

"You're young," Harry told her with a chuckle, as if he was trying to explain the world to her, "You've got to explore a bit before moving back home. How do you think I got here?"

June tucked some loose hair behind her ear, "How did you end up here, I mean? It's quite far."

"Five thousand miles, give or take." He tells her, walking alongside her now. They seem to be moving at a slower pace. Either way, Harry knew that he wanted to be next to her.

June took a last draw of her cigarette, throwing it on the gravel. "Way too far for me. I'd miss my family way too much."

Harry flicked the cigarette, the ashes falling a bit before he nodded a few times. "That's because you have a really great family," He looked ahead, chuckling a bit, which June caught before furrowing her brows. "I don't miss my family at all, truthfully. Not much to miss there. So, maybe I just don't get it."

June nodded a few times, understanding the implications and biting her lip at his words. There's silence in the air before she takes in a breath and pressed her lips together then, as if she's trying to find words to help alleviate a pressure that she added in. But, he speaks before she gets a chance to.

"I just think people maybe need to take a few more chances," He says, "Live a little more freely. What's the worst that can happen if you do what you want?"

"Well, most criminals live by that narrative," June tells him, which makes him laugh a little bit at her remarks before she looks at him with the blue eyes that he can't seem to fully grasp could be that color blue.

"Within reason." He adds, and he stops mid step before he watches as she turns to face him at his abrupt stop in the road.

June looks at him, a fluttering feeling in her stomach as his body moves, letting the leather reins go before he stops in front of her again. It's the proximity that sends her thoughts on a tailwind of what could happen next; the adrenaline pushes in her veins as she stares up at him. He's closer now than before, his head has dropped a bit so he can really look at her, but she's acknowledged that, pushing her chin up to make sure she can hear exactly what he's saying.

"Maybe it's the fact that I don't like playing by the rules, though." The smell of the tobacco was filling her nose as they stood so close. His eyes remained deferred from hers, watching the way that the lips and chin were pulling up, almost subconsciously.

"Seems a bit criminal, if you ask me." She teased, tilting her head a bit as she begged him to look at her.

"I mean," He chuckled, letting his fingers move up to her chin as he took it between them to steady her, "It would be criminal to let you beg any longer. Bit pathetic to watch."

"Not begging." She pushed back, pulling her chin away from his grip, which tightened his jaw. She noticed the way that her defiance made him react, which sped her breathing up.

"Tell your body that, sweets," He bit, "I could say anything, and you'll react to it."

He licked over his lips, watching as she tried her best to stay calm, to keep her breath under control. Her lips were pursed, her stance was trying to stand off a bit, but he could see right through her—he saw that she was trying her best to stand on her own but knew that she would fold right then and there.

It was the game that Harry liked, he liked watching how she would react to him when he spoke to her. She was young, practically ten years younger or so, he could assume—she was so impressionable and the fight for dominance was almost sweet. Harry ached as he watched her try to stand him down and his eyes moved to her lips before they drew up to her eyes, watching the ocean waves of blue.

June pulled away, suddenly. She gave him a smirk before she clicked her tongue to have Fury follow her down the road.

"You think you've got me figured out," She called, looking back over her shoulder. "Not going to work with me, cowboy."

Harry bit the inside of his cheek, watching her walk away. His eyes fell to the way that she walked, seeing the swing of her hips as a tactic to use against him. But, he did what he needed to do. He followed close behind, watching her every move—the silence in their walk back not lost on him.

"Something enticing?" June teased, noticing the way that his eyes had danced over her curves from behind. Harry's eyes lifted just a bit, settling in her eyes before he sent a wink her way.

The silence on the walk back to the barns felt good; it felt understood. It's why they both smiled to themselves, neither one seeing the other.

***

"You think I can really pull him?" June looked at Shelby, "He's older– I don't know, Shel."

"You aren't even seeing the way he looks at you," Shelby said to her friend, taking a swig of her beer. He's not taken his eyes off of her, and somehow June knows that deep inside of her, but she can't bring herself to look back at him. She's a bit timid like that; a sharp tongue when confronted, but a tail between her legs when she thinks of it.

The next night, June had gone out with her friend, Shelby, for a drink. It wasn't lost on her that the town was small. Most everyone knew each other, which made the Friday nights out on the town hard to avoid people you didn't want to see.

You really needed to want to be there, or you would be seen by someone you didn't want to see. June hadn't even thought of it when they went out, that she could possibly see him there. After their encounter yesterday morning, June had kept her distance. Not in a way that she felt was stand-offish, but in a way that felt like she was trying her best to let him come to her.

Dating and flirting weren't new to her, but the idea of playing this game scared her a bit. He wasn't new to this; they weren't trying to figure this out together like she had experienced in college. He was older than her, he had experience with this game.

It scared her a bit, because she didn't know how to handle herself in this type of situation. She wanted to come across as confident, but she knew that he had the opportunity to make her fold.

"You need to be drunker," Shelby stated, pushing her half-empty beer to her, watching as June wrapped her hands around the bottle. It was warm to the touch, not fresh in the slightest. "Let's go to the bar to get more."

June looked at her friend after downing the rest before she fully understood what that meant for her.

Shelby had gotten up, which made June follow her. The strawberry blonde realized without another second to spare that she had walked into the lion's den– eyes were on her as she approached the countertop bar.

One pair of eyes, specifically.

At first, she hadn't recognized him. Without the hat and the dirt-ridden t-shirt, she saw the way that the denim jacket hugged his back. The curls had a bit of bounce to them, and her mouth felt dry as she tried her best to divert her attention away.

But they were almost arm and arm and she had wondered if he would notice.

Of course he had. The scent of cherries and lime only made sense when his attention turned back towards a person who had brushed against him now. He had seen her across the room as soon as she came in with her short skirt and boots. He noticed the way that her waist dipped in with the form-fitting top and the slight curl to her hair.

He sat with his beer in his hand, a rowdy few friends were next to him as he kept his attention on her. June felt heat down her neck as she tried to ignore the staring but started to enjoy the feeling of being seen.

"Two whiskey sours," Shelby leaned across the bar to ask for before June looked at her with confusion, knowing that adding a bit of liquor in the mix would either make it better or worse—she didn't know. Her friend smirked at her, watching the bartender start to assemble their drinks.

June kept to herself for a moment before she heard a stealthy voice next to her. The jolt of her head towards him even surprised her as she licked over her lips at the way that he was looking at her.

"You following me, doll?"

June scoffed; her sharp tongue ready. "You don't think I have better things to do?" She quirked her eyebrow at him; feeling the closeness of them as she stood, and he sat on the barstool under the dim light of the grungy pub.

"No," He shook his head, taking a sip from his bottle before he turned to face her now. She was practically between his legs, his knees on either side of her as she stood closer to him than she thought. "I don't think you do."

He looked the same as he had yesterday morning; he was clean shaven on his cheeks, a bit of scruff on his lip and a twinkle in his eye that was undeniable among the green. A denim jacket covering his shoulders and tattooed arms that were on such display this morning. The hair sat longer on top of his head, just enough to add the definitive addition of chocolate curls.

June could barely look at him without her knees buckling at the bar top. But she took the drink from the bartender with confidence, trying to anchor herself.

"Well, you're wrong." June tells him, taking ahold of the cocktail before taking a sip and trying to play hard to get. A game she knew– a game she played far too often.

Harry watched the way she popped her hip, knowing she did it on purpose.

"I'm never wrong," He bit back, still playful. His eyes met June's, and she didn't dare look away. "So, try again."

June cleared her throat, standing against the bar as she let a breath out. What she hadn't anticipated was the way that his bent knee fell behind her own, pulling her closer between his legs at the busy bar.

June went to speak, a small gasp leaving her lips as she placed her hand on his shoulder as she lost a bit of balance. Her hair fell into his face as she felt herself push away. The smirk on his face only made her blush as she pushed off from him.

"Go on," He urged, "Try again."

She raised her eyebrows, noticing her hand still placed on his shoulder. "What if," She cleared her throat, "It's you who is following me?"

Harry took a sip of his beer, lazily, eyes staying on June as he shook his head softly.

" 'Course I am," He bit his lip, "Who wouldn't?"

His honesty came across, making her feel a bit speechless when she looked at him. She downed a good amount of the whiskey drink quickly, knowing that the quicker it went down, the quicker she'd feel it.

"Looks like what I said about criminal activity seems to be true," She let the straw of the drink rest on her tongue as she looked at him, "You're a bit no good."

"Never denied it," He downed a bit more of his drink before he raised his brow at her, "But you keep coming back, don't you?"

Her tongue rested on the straw, playing with it a little bit as she felt the flirtatious spirit running through her. The cat and the mouse were at their height, now.

"Just gathering all the facts on why I should stay away," She told him, pushing her hair back off of her shoulder. The small top only leaving little to the imagination; Harry tried to hold it together as he swallowed dryly.

"How's that working out for you?" He asked, his hand making its way to her hip as he pulled her a bit closer. June took a step, finding her balance as she stared at him for a moment. He knew the look on her face as he had seen that look a few times before.

A part of him felt the words deeper, which initiated him to reach for his wallet.

"Mind if you let me drive you home?" His voice was thick with a dry, hoarseness that only solidified her position backing into his lap.

June practically melted at his touch, his hand on her hip as she nodded a few times before turning towards him then.

"Don't think that should be a problem." She muttered over the music playing across the bar.

June's eyes found Shelby who was standing at the bar, just a few people over before she winked at them. She moved away, just so that Harry could stand on his feet as she watched the man throw a fifty down on the counter to cover the drinks.

"Drinking fifty dollars' worth and then driving me home?" Her attention turned towards the man as he gave her a lazy smile. "Feels a bit dangerous to get in the car with a drunk stranger."

"Feel like it's my job to pay for you too if I'm getting you to leave your friend to come spend time with me, hm?" Harry walked backwards a bit, reaching for her hand before they reached the door to the bar. "You looked like you were having a good time. But I got something to show you."

Her hand fit into his, her breathing escalating just a bit at the way that he maneuvered her grip, making his stronger instantly as he led them back to the Ford pickup he sport around town.

"I was having a good time," She tells him with a bit of a flirty essence, one that held a bit of attitude as far as he was concerned, "And now you're taking me from it. Wherever you're taking me must be pretty good."

Harry bit on his lip as he sniffles, scrunching his nose at her comment. Her comment only pressing his buttons.

"I'd apologize but I don't know if I'm sorry." He commented, cocking his head.

"You'll only have to apologize if I'm left disappointed–"

When they reached the blue pick-up, his hands instantly grabbed at her hips. They pushed her body into the iron to hold her captive against the side of the truck. It wasn't hard enough to hurt her, but hard enough to ground her. She hoped there'd be a small amount of pain as a reminder of the moment.

"You're not gonna question me, are you?" He asked her with the softest voice; the threat in his tone only heightened her senses as she flinched at the way he spoke.

The inside of her thighs fluttered at his growl of a voice. "N-No," June answered, "No, no, never."

His lips brushed against the side of her ear, pulling his body away from her just for a moment before he nodded and found the moment to understand her.

"Good girl," He praised, moving his hands upwards to her waist. The slim part of her torso melted into a perfect hourglass figure. Her hips were wide and held his sight, but his hands loved the feeling of the curve.

June's breath halted at the way that he held her– at first with a physical grip so tight, and then an invisible string of persistence.

The small pub rested just on the outskirts, in the mountains, but just far enough from the ranch. The radio played lightly; the windows were rolled down as the horizon line were just baring a bit of light.

Harry had driven the truck up to one of the horse barns that sat just close to June's guest house, where she had been staying. It was a bit further on the property, but she drove past it almost every day.

"What are we doing here?" She questioned him before he opened the door. He went to the other side to help her out, taking her hand as she jumped down. He had taken her waist in his hands to help her, the touch of him on her was enough to make her breathing hitch.

"Have something to show you, I told you." He said, taking her hand in his as he led her back up to the darkened barn. When they arrived at the open door, he flickered on a switch that gave the large space a bit of light.

When they both walked into the small barn, the only lights were overhead, the sound of the crickets chirping filled the silence. June followed Harry's lead before she noticed that they stopped at the stall at the end of the row, down closer to the tack room.

"Here we are," Harry nodded, leaning his arms on the side of the stall gate. When June turned towards the mother horse and baby that were laying on the ground before them. She felt her heart melt at the sight of the small, brown foal that had two white spots on the top of its forehead.

"Oh my god," She gasped, watching as Harry smiled at her surprise. "Aren't they the sweetest thing?"

"He was born this morning," Harry leaned against the gate, watching the two horses on the ground before he turned back to June. The mare simply in awe of the small baby, seemingly tired as she laid next to him. "Needs a name."

"The ranch has a history of naming them after the stars, you know," June tells him, walking over to the little foal. His legs tucked under him, two bright white spots perfectly in the middle of his forehead.

June leans down a bit, hesitant not to scare him. Her hand reaches out to pet the small foal before she runs over hand over the white spots.

"Well, mum is Forager of Stardust," He tells her, keeping against the gate with his arms crossed, "So, we'll keep it in the family."

June starts to giggle as she turns back to Harry, eyes wide, "Ziggy Stardust– hands down, has to be."

"Ziggy Stardust? Alright, then. Sounds like a perfect name to me." Harry questions with a laugh; his smile becoming a bit more than the typical lazy one he likes to sport. June noticed that the crinkles by his eyes were a bit more defined, her nods insinuating her answer.

June turned back to the little foal before watching as his dark brown eyes blinked a few times with the lashes so long and fluttered. Her heart was built from the small creatures around the farm, the life that had been put into this lifestyle.

It reminded her of the sweetness; the parts of her life that continued to only get better the older she got and the more she enjoyed the peacefulness of simplicity.

This was it– this was the simplicity she craved. The rebirth, the gentle touches that reminded her of what life really was all about. She loved watching the ranch run on its own, watching as it grew everyday with small details.

Harry had moved towards a bale of hay that sat in the corner, taking a seat on it as he leaned against the stable wall. He watched June nuzzling the foal before she turned her head towards him again. He gave her a tilted smirk, dimple pressing into his cheek as he watched the nurturing love that nestled out of her.

"Did you grow up on a farm?" She asked, looking back at him before standing up from her spot. She managed to make her way through the tall stable hay before taking a seat on the bale with him. The small spot was snug, but neither of them seemed to mind.

"I did," He nodded a few times, "But it was a lot different. Sheep and goat, mostly. England is also a bit flatter, so it was a lot easier to ride than it is here. But I just figured that this would be a bit of an adventure."

"Think you made a good choice?" June asked, crossing her arms as her legs settled straight out just like his.

Harry raised his brows before he felt that he couldn't stop himself from smiling all the sudden. He wanted to believe that the few beers had something to do with it, hours ago now, but he knew that it wasn't. His eyes were downcast as he started to nod a few times.

"The views here are incredible." He answered, looking up at her, "But the scenery around here is good, too."

June nodded a few times, sniffling.

Harry decided to return the question, looking back at her. "Do you think you made the right choice coming back home? Assuming you liked the city, I guess."

June shrugged her shoulders, knowing that being home was always difficult in some capacity. She loved her family, loved the ease of being able to go places and knowing exactly what to expect. Home seemed to be a place that was easily accessible to her, all the time. Her family would always bring her back—she always knew that she could lean on them without an issue or judgement of feeling pressured to leave.

"I think I made the right choice to come home and to do what feels easy right now," She nodded a few times, "I think coming home from college is scary because you're like," She shrugged, "You feel like you don't have a direction anymore. You're in school practically your whole life—it's all you know. And then to think that you could go somewhere else and live a new life after that. It's just a lot. They're letting me stay in the guesthouse until I can get my bearings."

Harry understood, to some degree. But he was the opposite—if it wasn't new, it wasn't exciting. He wanted to see new things and to not see the same view twice. It meant that you weren't settled, even though the idea of settling wasn't bad. It was just different.

"It's probably good to know that you have a space in the world somewhere," He agreed, settling a bit, "I understand that. I didn't go to college, but I get that you want to feel like you're... you. And you're not having to reintroduce yourself to a new place or new people."

"My family knows exactly who I am," She smiled, "And that's what I want right now."

That was the truth—June wanted to just stay here until she was able to get her own place, maybe down the road. She could have the best of both worlds—one day she'd be able to live on her own, but still be able to stay connected to the place that felt so close to her heart. Teaching riding lessons was her only income, but it helped pay her loans and aided in her weekend ventures with her friends, specifically Shelby.

There wasn't much more she could have wanted now. Happiness seemed to manifest itself in the little things.

But, of course, after the small incident with Fury yesterday morning, she didn't know that she would have been able to trust him. It felt that there was more she could do about it, but she knew that his outbursts had been due to her lack of maintaining his trust and boundaries. He was also just an asshole half the time, and it wasn't something that she could put up with if he continued.

June sighed a bit, thinking of it when she noticed that Harry had taken interest in her sudden displeasure.

"What's wrong?" He asked. She blinked a few times, watching as he seemed to understand that her sigh was of annoyance.

"Well, I'm not going to be able to give anymore lessons until I can get Fury figured out," She shook her head, watching the man as he listened to her quandary. "I have to get him straightened out or I'll have to get another horse ready just to train on, and work with Fury until then."

Harry bit the inside of his cheek as he let his eyes move to the side, seeing if he would get the reaction he was looking for.

"Bet you're a real good rider, huh?" He teased, poking his tongue into the side of his cheek as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Probably give good lessons, too."

June pulled her lips into her mouth to keep from the smirk that was approaching, but she rolled her eyes instead. "What a line."

"I'm just asking!" He lifted his hands in defense as he chuckled out a bit, "Was maybe looking into some lessons to help you out."

Their outstretched legs bumped into one another as she pulled at bent knee up to hug into her chest. "I charge a hefty fee."

Harry shrugged, running his hand through his hair. The unruly curls were a bit out of control as he sniffled gently at the way that the hay tickled his nose. "I'll pay up-front."

June shifted her jaw as she licked over her lips. It was a bit dangerous, this game that they were playing. But she had an idea in her brain that she was going to take his advice.

What was the worst that could happen?

She sat up, back straight. Her eyes were downcast as she looked over at him, then. He didn't know how to respond to her stare before he felt the way that she pushed her knee over his lap. Her hands steadily placing on his shoulder as he looked up at her with a smirk that said all of the words that she desperately needed to hear.

"Alright, then," She sunk her teeth into her bottom lip, "Let me give you a lesson or two, cowboy." Her hips sank into his pelvis, pushing gently with the added pressure as she took a seat like he had inquired for.

Harry sat up a bit straighter, watching as she straightened up, too. Her skirt flowed over her thighs as he let his hands place on the outside of her hip for helping her balance. A smirk coated her blushing cheeks as she tucked her hair behind her ear in a nervous habit.

"I'm already learning so much," He teased her, waiting for her to make another move. She thought she may have a grasp on how to approach him but became nervous as she started to take charge. It was evident to him as she settled into his lap, but he loved the initiative.

They faced one another and she bit her lip at the way that he talked to her. He paid attention to her, let his hands get to know her before he pressed further.

"Dare you to kiss me, though." He said to her, watching as she gave him a look of confusion. She chuckled at him, as she shook her head, but he just smirked, "No one can pass up a dare."

She did exactly as he had dared, pressing down so their lips met. It was like finding water in the desert as she immediately pushed forward, needing more as soon as she got a taste. Her hips rolled at the feeling of his hand making its way to the back of her neck, almost like he was guiding her closer. He was showing her what she needed without words.

The kiss allowed him to press his tongue into her mouth which elicit a whimper from her, his cock straining underneath the jeans that she had been pressing on. He followed, letting his own whimper strain out at the thought of her pressed against him. The skirt not allowing anything between them except the panties he imagined she'd have on.

Deepening the kiss, he pulled her hips forward just enough that he was allowing her hips to ride into him. The coolness of his belt made her shiver, her thighs immediately reacting to the touch.

"You wanna let me take the reins?" He offered, his voice deep and raw as he felt the closeness of them. Her back arched into him, his words giving her a break as she nodded fervently.

"Please?" She asked, practically pleading.

It didn't take any longer before he threw his arm around her, picking her up into his lap as he found the grounding of his feet. Swiftly, he held her up on his waist as she wrapped her legs around his middle, holding on as they pressed their way through the barn.

The small tack closet next to the stable was the closest they got before he threw open the door and led them in.

Harry threw her on the table, letting her sit as he continued to let his lips fall over her again and again. With her help, his hands pulled the denim off of his arms and back, pieces of clothing seem to fall off easily.

He gently allowed his hand to move to the inside of her thigh, pressing down a bit to gauge her reaction.

Her skin was hot, his eyes were down as he guided his hand to the place that she needed him most.

"Please, please," She continued to plead, his ears ringing from the way that she needed. It was so innocent and cute, almost like she hadn't any idea how badly he could wreck her.

"Turn around." He demanded, pulling away just enough to give her room to move. When she didn't, all he saw was a deer in headlights, watching him for a moment like she didn't know what he was asking of her. She swallowed, licking over her lips as she got to her feet.

Her slow movement initiated him to grab her by the hips to turn her around quickly. His hand pressed on her back, pushing her to her elbows on the deck of the tack room.

"When was the last time you were fucked?"

Her throat was tight just at the words that left his mouth; her breathing racing as she anticipated the quickness of this. She had been waiting for it; hoping he'd understand she had been quietly asking for this.

"Been a while," She answered breathlessly, her legs pushed apart as he stood behind her. The flow of the skirt barely covered over her ass before he pushed it up to reveal it all. "N-Not that long."

His eyes grew three sizes larger as he took in the detail of the black lace that lay over her milky skin.

Harry pulled himself down, letting his knees sink to the ground. His eyes were level with the lace as he quickly let his fingers rest on the waistband, pulling them off of her and down her thighs.

She gasped at the feeling, his eyes never leaving.

"Goddamn," He commented, his thumb pressing softly into her. She jerked forward at the initial contact, eyes shutting as she leaned into his touch. "Knew it," He chuckled, "Knew you'd get yourself wet for me."

His thumb moved out slowly, her reaction exactly what he wanted. She pulled back with him, wanting to be filled– he knew exactly where he needed to get her.

"Needy," He berate, his words having a bit of edge. Her eyes flickered open as she gasped at the feeling of his hand slapping the harness of her skin. His thumb removed as he spanked her again, lurching her forward. "So fucking greedy."

Her knees trembled at the feeling, left untouched as he stood behind her. The sound of his belt made her eyes shut as he undid the button on his jeans and smirked at the way she settled underneath him.

"Don't mind that we don't have a condom, right?" He asked, his hand moving to the reddened spot on her skin that she ached took feel again. He smirked, knowing the words he would say would only make her a bit restless. "Can wait if you really need me to."

Her head turned around, her lips a bit raw from where she had been nibbling on it.

"No," She shook her head, "No– no. I'm safe, we're okay." She pleaded, and his smirked lifted at her neediness.

His hands pulled on her hips to arch just a bit for him. June quickly felt the teasing way his tip pressed against her soaked cunt, her hands turned white knuckled as she gripped tightly onto the wood. It was just the feeling alone– she hadn't even seen him, but her anticipation was high.

"Just letting you know," He pressed the tip right into the softness between her, giving her a sensation of euphoria just from how turned on she had been. She let out a moan, her eyes shutting. "We play by my rules. When I say down, you go down. When I say suck, you suck. No backtalking. I'm giving you the best fuck of your life, so you listen to me to get what I know you want. Got it?"

He hadn't even given her a reason to moan, her words caught in her throat as she nodded with. A subtle whimper— the strawberry blonde hair flinging over her shoulder as he moved it away. His lips found their home on the back of her neck, sucking gently at the skin.

"You're going to be such a good girl, though, aren't you? You would never disobey me, huh?" He cooed; his lips continued to ravish at her hair line as she threw her head back in an ache to feel the pleasure he was offering.

June's hips moved back gently, but his hands gripped at her before she could push herself onto him. The slight action gave him a sense of power; his hand smacking onto the curve of her.

The cracking sound familiar to one of a whip— she gasped at the feeling, her eyes closing shut just at the pain that radiated in such a burning sensation.

"Fuck," She whispered, knowing that she was simply dripping at the need. She had never been in a position of such need— she had never needed someone to give her what she needed in such a way that it brought tears to her eyes just to think about it. "I-I'm sorry— I—"

"I'm not." He stated, his breath hot on her neck. A coolness laying underneath—the metal of the cross hitting at her shoulder when he grabbed her hips towards him. When he pushed in, it took a fluid motion before they both moaned out in pleasure. It was a shock of intensity that Harry had truly never felt before.

Sure, he'd been in this position before— but like this? He had been with beautiful women, seen beautiful things. But the enticing scent of wildflowers and sweet vanilla only flourished as his nose brushed the softness of her shoulder.

Harry tried to keep his composure— trying to follow the red behind his eyes, but suddenly feeling the urge to cum at any moment which made him a bit nervous at the quick build-up. It was exceptionally better than he had expected; he had been more turned-on than he had thought.

His forehead rested on her shoulder blade; the small strap of her tank-top the only small detail that was between his forehead and her skin. Harry bit his lip slightly as he wondered when he would be ready to pull out to continue fucking her into an oblivion that would send her to the stars.

But he felt incredibly, incredibly close to the edge just at the initial feeling of her. He grunted in a bit of frustration as he shook his head to try to clear all the thoughts that had gathered there. The curls of his hair fell into his eyes as he shook his head. His hands kneaded into the fleshy skin that curved over the small skirt that still rested on her thighs. He had just pushed it up enough to give himself access to what he really needed.

Focus, he thought to himself.

"You are so goddamn tight," He watched as her back arched a bit at his words. Her chin turned to the side, just enough where he could now see her side profile. Her eyes were shut, mouth parted in a small, dainty way. "No one's fucked you in a while, have they, darling? You lie to me?"

Harry pulled himself out just a bit, watching where they connected as he felt himself slip back in. The tightness surrounding him made his eyes clamp shut. She felt incredible to him on every level that he couldn't think of anything else that moment.

It was dizzying.

"N-No, not like you— not like this," June muttered. The way that her hands gripped over the table in the tack room was almost pain to her fingertips. "You're so deep, fuck."

The sound of her voice elicits a response of his hips bucking into her, the rasp and grunt of June's voice painted a beautiful picture in his memory.

"You like me deep like that?" Harry licked over his lips, eyes moving down her body as he moved his leg to her thigh. "Pull this up on the table— go on," He urged, "it'll be good for you."

June felt the pat on her thigh, Harry's hands slid the remaining clothes down her legs to leave her completely free on the bottom. He pulled out for a moment to help her lift her leg, balancing herself as she felt suddenly empty without him filling her up.

Watching as she lifted her leg on the table, pushing herself up, Harry dropped to his knees as he took in what he saw. A certain hunger elicits his eyes as he grabbed onto the back of her thighs, spreading them apart. In an instant, she felt the spit on her already dripping cunt as his mouth attached to her almost like it was made for his lips to wrap around.

Her head drew back at the feeling of his mouth on her, the knot in her stomach was undoubtedly loosening as she felt the nudge of his tongue against her clit; the feeling of his nose gracing her. In the last twenty-four years, she had never been blessed with a partner that would have given her the opportunity to feel this way. She had never been with an older man before, either.

Maybe her innocence had been brushed away by the complete raging needs of his wandering hands.

Either way, she didn't know if she could get any better than this. The softness of his tongue with a stiff edge and control, the scruff of his upper lip taunting her as he spread her thighs further apart while his mouth took her from behind.

"Could ruin you in so many ways." Harry hummed, his tongue dripping from her arousal that coated it. "You want me to ruin you, doll?"

Her hair fell into her face as she nodded fervently, her hand pushing the locks away as she tried to catch a glimpse of him but leaned forward instead.

"Yes— I want you to ruin me, please." Her voice was a shy, timid tone but it held all of the power of her needs. He knew exactly what she needed, and he would gladly give her every bit of it.

Harry immediately felt the words go straight to his cock; the feeling of arousal only tempting him further and further. What was it about this girl that gave him such an issue? He hadn't always been so easy to please, but something about the way that she moved her hips, her small movements only made him want to be rougher.

A girl that didn't know what she wanted was always the best— it was the moment when she found exactly what she was looking for, but never knew how to express it that made him cum the hardest. Harry wanted to push every ounce of her until she was begging for it.

June lurched forward just a bit as he stood back up from his position, moving to enter her once again. The slickness of his spit mixed with her arousal created the perfect lubrication that guided his swiftly back into her.

Deeper this time— much deeper. He held onto her thighs, pushing his hips into her at a steadier rate as the soft hums of her whimpers started to go deeper and become significantly more adulterated versions of moans. He felt the way he slipped in and out of her like she had been made to pleasure him.

"Keep quiet," He urged, "You're going to get us into trouble if someone hears us."

"I want them to hear how good you're fucking me," She urged, a whimper coming out as he slowed his motions to tease her further. "Fucking me so good."

He leaned in a bit close to her ear, pulling back her neck as her body contorted to meet his needs. She was in his grasp, only moving in the way that he needed her to. His hand pulled at her throat; the coolness of his undone belt buckle was against her thigh as he pushed in completely to get as close to her as possible.

The moan that escaped her lips was cut short by the hand that cupped over her mouth, which only pushed her further.

"You're going to be quiet or I'm going to pull out, do you understand me?" His voice was deep, low, and cold as she shut her eyes to the sound of it. She felt the push of two of his fingers into her mouth, a surprise at first. "Brats get punished and I'm going to leave your little cunt wanting more if you don't listen."

June hadn't felt this way in years— there had never been a man to satisfy the needs that had been built up in this way. It really hadn't been that long since she hooked up with someone, but she had never felt this way in her entire life. She had never felt this full— this satisfied. It was extraordinarily rough— it was to the point where she hadn't ever known a pleasure like this before.

She couldn't have imagined this.

"You understand?" He says finally; she hadn't recognized that he had truly been waiting for a response before continuing. She had concluded that his pleasure was aided with being in charge. June couldn't understand the way that she became extremely, unbelievably pleasant for him. A few more thrusts pushed her to the brink of extraordinary delight before she dipped her head at the throbbing feeling between her legs.

"I understand— I do, I do, fuck– fuck." She whimpered out, unaware of the way that his thrusts had pushed on her enough that her muscles involuntarily ached as her orgasm became all the sudden wet— a solid gasp releasing her lips as she felt him pull out just at the feeling.

Harry's eyes darkened to a color of coal before he watched her inevitably drip down her own legs, the sight only causing his own mind to fall to a place of filth and absolute insanity. The gushing liquid was only a sight that he never thought he'd see like that– especially from her.

The innocent act was truly just an act.

"Jesus Christ," He commented under his breath, a bit taken by the sight. He choked back for a moment before he looks at the way he left her cunt dripping with need over the dark brown boots that had pushed her legs open. "So, fucking messy, aren't you?"

He watched the way that June's breathing heaved for a moment before he let his hand run down her spine— almost like she had been a bit surprised, like she hadn't expected her body to do anything like that.

Harry paused for a moment, watching to make sure that she was okay. Even in the rough moments, he watched to see if she seemed alright— his head tilting a bit as he hadn't heard anything else from her. A small coax from his hand on the small of back made him pause for a moment.

"Hey," He spoke quietly, "You're okay, doll, hm?"

June felt extremely exhausted already, almost like her body had started to fail her with how her legs trembled in this position. Her head turned back to look at him, a small nod coming from her without any words as she tried to find herself back in the moment.

It was an odd feeling in his chest as he started to feel an ache that went from extremely vile— filthy as he fucked this girl against the tack closet desk, to a sense of vulnerability that he made have started to push her a bit further than she was ready for. She didn't know it until her body was giving her pleasure that she hadn't felt before.

In an attempt to aid in some relief, especially to the legs that shook a bit more than a small foal, he pulled June back to a standing position. Her confusion on her face was obvious before Harry grabbed her by the waist to place her on the end of the desk instead. The skirt that had been pulled around her thighs had been pulled down completely.

"Get you off your legs so I can finish you off without you falling out on me," He told her with a sly smile, "Anyone ever made you feel this good?"

He watched the girl— completely wrecked with a face of pure softness. Her eyes were dazed, her attention stayed on him as he she shook her head. He felt better that she was conscious, even if he had taken practically everything from her.

"I can tell," He tells her softly before he tucks the hair out of her face, "Sorry you've been so deprived," Harry comments, "Would've done it for you sooner, if I would have known. Good thing I know now, hm? Won't let this happen again, angel, promise.

The feeling of their lips presses together as June grabs at her thigh so that Harry can move into the position between her legs once again. His tongue tastes like tobacco, a hint of the gum that he had been chewing.

Harry pressed the tip of his cock back into her to finish what he had started. His muscles ached in his abdomen as he felt himself tense at the feeling through a few more thrusts as he faced her now.

"Feels so, so good," June's words had whimpered out of her, a bit surprising at how quiet she had been and started to become even more so. "I-I'm— it's— fuck. Please, please more."

Harry's hands had made their way to her hips, making sure she had been pulled completely to the front of the desk so that he could feel her deeper. His vision moved down to the place where they connected; a hint of heat on the back of his neck as he thought of the moment more intrinsically.

"C'mon," He coaxed, their noses brush as he lets his forehead rest against hers. His breathing hitched for a moment as he felt her hand move to grab at his bicep. "C'mon, give me one more. You can do it."

His hips snapped further into her; June breathed into his mouth with a hot gasp as she screwed her eyes shut at the feeling of his cock nudging at a place that elicit such a firework of intensity that she hadn't ever felt before. It didn't matter how many college nights, bar hookups, serious relationships— none of those had the control that Harry had over her.

This was a feeling that he had crafted to ensure that the other person felt extraordinarily vulnerable and taken. She recognized that she wasn't the first, and certainly wouldn't be the last.

She was okay to just be his right now.

"Mm," She bit on her lip at the thought of what had caused her to be sent over the edge prior. She wanted to know what to ask for; she didn't know what she needed, but she was certainly going to try. "W-Want you to...to c-call me a slut," she said with a small voice, just heard between them. Her eyes had turned away from him with a sheepish-shy feeling. "Need it."

Harry paused for a moment before he let his hand move to underneath her chin, propping her up to look into his eyes. He needed her to say it to him— needed to see her embarrassed and shy, wanting him to treat her like a one-night rather than a forever.

"I only call it like it is," He tells her with a grin carved like a devil, "I just have to call you a slut so you drench my cock? Is that it?" He knew he had to push her further, get her to a place in her head where she felt sexy, where she felt loose to the point of unraveling. "Letting me fuck you in a little closet on your daddy's ranch— such a pretty little brat."

"Fuck me," She whined, knowing that her words would travel if she were any louder. "I-I'm gonna–"

"Do it." He coaxed.

Just at the sound of his words, he could feel the way that she unwound herself— simply, he didn't recognize that his words really did have the effect. His lips part as he watched her body fully shake with a convulsion the wetness coated his front with a small spray of her. Drenching his clothes and their boots as they sat with gasping breaths, he stared at the way that her pussy reacted to him, wondering how his words affected her so easily.

She was wrecked.

"That's such a good fucking girl," Harry told her softly, pressing himself back in, nodding fervently as he reassured her. Her cry was let out of the feeling of sensitivity that came after her explosive orgasm.

His hand placed on the back of her neck, pulling her forward a bit as he snapped his hips harder into her so that he could reach a place of pure euphoria. He couldn't begin to replay the actions of her pretended innocence, wondering if he would ever get to see anything like it agan. "Not going to last—fuck."

In an instant, his muscles tensed with an aching feeling that pushed his hips deeper into hers. Harry's lips placed themselves on her neck, kissing at the spots with a gentle softness—he knew what he had been in for in this intense, heated hook-up, but his cock had found a ferocious love for finishing inside of her all of the sudden.

It was all encompassing.

"Shit– shit." He hadn't even thought of the repercussions of not having the condom but needing to be careless for a few moments of time. He fell into her grip, holding onto her softly as he felt their breathing becoming less heavy.

June's legs were wrapped around his hips like an anchor, her head sat heavy on his shoulder as he mustered up the courage to pull away. He didn't really want to pull out completely, knowing it felt too good to let his cock feel the tight confines of her walls.

He slowly pulled his hips back, letting the mess fall out with him.

"Oh, fuck." He muttered under his breath, watching the display of a horribly sexual sight. One that someone would pay money to see. "I've never felt anything like that."

The way that she breathed against the wall, up on the table. Her eyes were shut as she held herself up and wondered if her choices had been worth it. She blinked a few times, almost like her body was now shutting down after the intensity of their passionate love affair.

Harry waited for her to respond to him, to look at him. He watched as her chest raised and lowered, knowing she was still breathing, but seemed to be missing from behind her eyes.

"Hey," He pulled her back from against the wall, whispering to her sweetly as he felt himself breathing a bit fast, too. "C'mon, doll, we should go clean up. I think we can sneak out the back."

Her movements felt heavy as Harry tried his best to bring her back to her feet. When he felt that she was steady enough, he let go of her to place his jeans and belt back into place, watching her shakily redress herself. The quietness of the small tack closet didn't hinder them, as Harry placed a kiss along her cheek before he let his hands fall on the doorknob.

"I'll go first and then you can follow me," He tells her, watching her nod in agreement. "Front door or back door?" He asks, in reference to the small guest house that June had been staying in. Her breathing had finally fallen into place. The desperation of need still on her eyes, which only excited him to get her back alone.

"Back." She tells him, quietly. Using her words wasn't so bad, but her legs became a bit unsteady, so she held onto the table behind her.

Before he opens the door, Harry gives her a quick once over. His eyes land on her lips before he steps forward to leave a kiss along her pout, letting her sink into him once again. The taste of her instantly feeds him as he groans into the feeling.

It was about time he found the feeling everyone told him he should be looking for. It was a myth for so long, but just in the way that he lips melted into his was enough to make to him blush. Her hands in his hair at the back of his neck, the feeling of her nails along his jaw settled his need for the moment before he pulled back and gave her another peck.

"Don't be too long," He told her, "Don't want to have to wrangle you back to me."

She smirked at his challenge as he opened the door to slip out. Her eyes shut at the way moved, closing the door behind him. A settled feeling in her chest only made her stumble back just a bit, letting herself rest on the table before she took in a solid breath.

Home had seemingly never felt so right.

#be so nice this is my first post on here #but it's dirty so lets go #cowboyrry #harry styles fanfic #harry fanfic #ff #harryff #one direction #harry styles one shot #hsos #harry styles x original character #cowboy smut #harry styles smut #harry smutty fanfic #one-shot #harry styles fluffy #wrangled

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jarofstyles · 4 months

Text

Baby, It's Cold Outside

So basically this was meant to be a shorty, but it turned into almost 9k of cuteness and smut. So happy holidays, my loves! Here is some friends to lovers cuteness and filth <3

Check out our Patreon for over 100 exclusive writings!

Warnings: Smut

WC- around 9k

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Y/N hadn’t meant to fall asleep on Harry’s couch. Honest.

But anyone who had the pleasure of sitting on the cloud like crimson couch could tell you, it was hard to get out of it once you were in. Harry had to answer some business emails, of course, because as much as she liked her friend, she was well aware he was a workaholic. Lawyer by day, and by night. He had invited a few people over for a movie night but Y/N was the only one who was free- but it was fine. It meant more popcorn and pizza for them anyways- and he had been a doll and ordered her the BBQ Chicken pizza on a flat crust. She got it all to herself as they watched the original claymation of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, which was a classic if you asked her. Her stomach full, she still picked at some of the M&M’s and tried to ignore the little jump her heart gave when their hands brushed. Their thighs had already been knocking together and Y/N had been trying to talk some sense into herself considering she knew there was no meaning to it. He sat close to her so they could both reach the popcorn and share the candies! He kept the bowl balanced on his thigh so she could reach over and get it. Duh.

But after their second movie, Elf, his phone began to ping. Why, Y/N didn’t know. It was literally 9 in the evening, there was no reason to do so, but when Harry asked if she was okay with him stepping away for a few moments to answer some things in his office, she didn’t make a fuss. No, she continued watching albeit with a slightly heavier heart when 30 minutes had passed and he hadn’t reappeared- but that was neither here nor there.

She can’t remember doing it, burying her face in the pillow that he had been using and curling up into a little ball on his couch, snoozing away. The warmth of his home was welcoming, and she was vaguely aware that the wind had picked up outside- but she fell asleep shortly after. Firmly planted in dreamland where she was picking blueberries for a pie in the summer. Why that exact dream, she wasn’t sure. What she did know is that she stirred to the feeling of a warm hand stroking her head, soft whispers of her name coaxing her from the impromptu nap.

“Y/N?” He murmured, sitting next to her with a furrowed brow. Her eyes peeled open and blinked sleepily at him, confusion written in them as she looked over his face and the fact that the TV had the ‘are you still watching?’ notification on the screen. “Hey, sleepy girl.” He smiled slightly before it dropped. Her heart fluttered in her chest from the close proximity and fondness in his tone. “M’so fucking sorry. Time got away from me and before I knew it I was up there for an hour and a half- and m’a shit friend.” He frowned, unaware of the tantrum Y/N’s stomach was throwing from his hand resting on the side of her head. His thumb was brushing right before her ear, the slight sound tickling a part of her brain she hadn’t even known existed. He made her so nervous.

“Oh.” She said quietly, unsure how to reply. It kind of sucked that he had spent their movie night tucked in his office. Y/N didn’t get to spend a lot of time with Harry lately, his workload picking up, and she had been going on about how good it was to see him for once. The lighthearted teasing held a semblance of truth and Harry could tell, which made him feel pretty shit right now when he saw the slight dejection on his face. If only she knew.

“I know. M’sorry.” He whispered. “But uh….” his eyes strayed to the window. “We’ve got a bigger problem now.”

This had Y/N sitting up, silently mourning the loss of his hand that had flexed slightly as it fell back to the couch. “What do you mean?” Her nerves shot up, turning to look at the window as well. It was significantly cooler in the house now, her arms erupting in chills as her blanket fell from her shoulders as she got up to look. She’d seen a peek of white, but she hadn’t been prepared to see the truth outside. The blur of snow, piling up high and showing no sign of stopping. She rubbed her sleepy eyes, cursing under her breath. She’d gotten an uber here, but there was no way in hell any would be out right now. “Fuck.” Her tone was a soft groan, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes. “There’s no way I can get a ride home now.”

“I know.” Harry said back. “But it’s a good thing I’ve got lots of blankets, yeah?” He didn’t want to admit to her that there was something in him that was almost excited that she would be trapped here with him. That the reason everyone else had canceled was the weather, apparently, that neither of them looked into until Harry had checked his phone just moments before waking her up. It was going to snow all night, and all day. Y/N was stuck here, and he didn’t know for how long.

“Are you sure?” Nibbling her bottom lip, Y/N worried. She didn’t want to be a pain but there was no way she was walking home in this. No way Harry would ever let her either- and it wasn’t like she could ask him to drive her, it wouldn’t be safe. There was no other option other than staying.

“Course I am. Are you kidding?” He scoffed. “We can just continue watching. I really am sorry- we’ve got this case, the wife is trying to take half the assets.” He moved towards the couch and began to move things back to neaten it up. “We were trying to negotiate but then the PI that the husband hired found the proof of her infidelity, so it changed the case structure completely. I got in my own head, and I apologize.” It was obvious he actually felt really bad about it. Harry was passionate about his job, working with personal injury, divorce, and estate law. It made sense to her considering he was a busybody, and apparently could argue with anyone about anything- she’d seen it first hand with a tipsy Harry and Niall at karaoke night, arguing over the perfect color for those little drink umbrellas.

“It’s okay, Harry.” She smiled softly. “I wish I could find something to be as passionate about and make my job. M’just stuck at the cafe for now.” She joked. The cafe was fine, she liked her coworkers, but there was no passion there. She did her job, collected her money and went home.

“You will, love. It’s never too late.” He was always encouraging of her going after her dreams, especially over one drunken conversation about wishing she could do art full time- but Y/N was a realistic person and she had real rent to pay. Being a no-one in the art field would lead to ‘exposure’ work and exposure didn’t pay the bills. She needed to work on it but she was always so tired after work- eventually she would get there, but it was nice to know that someone believed in her. One of her paintings hung over his fireplace, actually, making her smile every time she came over. She painted his cat for his birthday, which had actually made him tear up. That had gotten her a very long hug and a solid appreciation for how muscular he was.

Y/N decided to help him out, readjusting the blankets and pillows as he brought the now cold pizza and treats into the kitchen. It was then that it hit her- she was going to spend the night at his house, and possibly the whole day tomorrow. Snowed in at Harry’s House. He was pretty choosy about the people that came over, citing that ‘his home is his sanctuary and he needs to protect it’, which she sort of liked. When she was in college, she had opened her home up for a bit for the parties and decided that she wasn’t a fan of a lot of people in her space either, so knowing he felt similar made her feel special.

“Okay.” He brought out the hard cider. “I’ve got the holiday version and the regular. Both are good, the holiday version is a bit more cinnamon-y.” He held up the bottles, teetering them in his hands. “Which would you like?”

“I’ll go with regular, please. Too much cinnamon makes me sneeze.” She admitted. “Weird, but even when I get it on my coffee I get a bit sniffly.” It was weird, considering it wasn’t exactly an allergy- but maybe a sensitivity.

“Oh, shit.” He raised his brows. “Okay, We’ll do regular then.” He handed it over to her after snapping the cap off with his bottle opener. “Don’t need a sneeze storm along with the snow storm.” The poor attempt of a joke made her snort, shaking her head. Harry’s jokes were infamously horrible, genuinely cringe worthy, but he had to have some sort of flaw. No one was that good looking and went away without something. Taking the frosty glass bottle in hand, she blamed it for the shivers- and not the fact his fingers brushed her own.

“Let’s get started again, yeah? Let me turn my phone off for real this time.”

—-----

The movie watching had turned to more of a movie and chat. Harry sat closer to her than before, claiming it was ‘cold as fuck’ before starting a fire. The room was dim except for the flat screen mounted above said fireplace, his twinkling christmas tree and the comforting warm glow of the flames crackling

“I really am sorry, you know.” He murmured, breaking her out of thought as he let his fingers play with the ends of her hair. Harry had been a bit more touchy tonight, she noticed. She was trying not to let it be known how much it actually affected her. She’d managed to keep her little crush under wraps for months now, and she didn’t want to slip up. It was hard not to, especially after they’d kissed on halloween. It was a dare, of course, everyone tipsy as shit, but it had done something to her. Their costumes accidentally ended up matching, so it was pushed and she didn’t mind. The girl had been so sure she was immune to Harry’s hypnotic charm, but the kiss had been… really fucking good. It wasn’t something that was rated R, but she got a bit of tongue from him, his hand cupping his jaw carefully enough to not mess up her makeup, and the length… If she had been a bit more drunk, she would have pulled him back for more. Since then she’d been a bit fucked. It was both fortunate and not so that Harry got a lot busier at work after that.

“What for?” She asked, giving him a questioning look. Harry had already apologized for taking so long and it wasn’t something she was still upset about. Not with her body buzzing and heating up with him so close to her.

“I’ve been kinda selfish. Forgot to ask more about you.” He frowned. “We’ve been a gossipy bunch tonight but.. You’ve been holding out a bit.” He teasingly tugged her hair. It was hard to keep her shiver from that hidden, as she really liked the feeling. “Remember you told us you’d been seeing someone. How’s that going?”

Y/N was confused for a moment. What was he talking about? Y/N hadn’t gone on a date in months. She wracked her brain, trying to place what he was talking about- when it hit her. Not too long after they’d kissed, Bradley had opened his mouth and asked Y/N about the date she had been on with his friend. Someone she had been set up with, and definitely didn’t like. Her nose crinkled as she shook her head.

“God, you remember that? It was awful.” She said in distaste. “We went to like.. Two dates. The first one and then the second one only happened because Brad kind of pressured me into it.” Her eyes rolled, still annoyed at her lack of a backbone when it came to hurting people’s feelings. She’d been really trying to work on that. The whole putting yourself on the line just to ensure other people are happy and god forbid you hurt someone’s feelings thing.

“Pressured you?” Harry’s fingers paused in her hair. “How do you mean?” She could see it in his face, his irritation rising. One of the things she liked the most about Harry was how respectful he was towards women. It was a hard thing for some men to conceptualize, apparently, but Harry naturally knew how to be a decent human being. It said more about other men than him.

“Well.. After halloween I told Brad I wasn’t feeling it with his friend when he asked me how it went, but he told me how much his friend liked me and I shouldn’t give up on it so quickly. Give him another shot. And then I was a stupid baby and decided to put the random man’s feelings above my own, and it was a second sucky date. I mean, there wasn’t anything inherently wrong with the guy. I was just bored. He just wasn’t my person, y’know? I felt bad wasting his time and giving false hope.” Her lips twisted in a grimace. It wasn’t a thing she was proud of. “But yeah, I know you’ve been busy lately. Though I would have thought Brad would have told you when you guys worked out? You two love to gossip like old hens.” She knew they met up every week.

“Yeah. I would have thought so too.” He said, something underlying in his tone that she didn’t quite get. “He uh.. He told me that you guys still saw each other occasionally, though?” He looked thoroughly confused which in turn, made her even more so.

“I mean, yeah. Kind of? He comes into the cafe and we’re friendly enough. I ended up telling him after the second date that I wasn’t seeing it go anywhere but I’d like to be friends. I’d say we’re more acquaintances than anything else, but he’s got a girl he’s seeing. I served them the other day.” Y/N wasn’t sure why Harry looked upset, almost annoyed at the information, but she was going to find out. “I’m sorry, are you okay? You just look annoyed, is all.” She tried her best to be soft about it, but she had no idea why on earth he would be annoyed about what she just said.

“No- no, s’nothing you did.” He assured her, rubbing over her back once he realized she was taking his expressions personally. “It’s just- he kept saying you guys hit it off and made it seem like… like you were taken by him. I dunno why he’d do that when…” He paused, shaking his head. It confused her even more, unsure as to why Brad would do that either. What did he have to gain by lying- or stretching the truth?

“When, what?” She asked. What would be in it for him?

“I don’t want t’make it weird, but he knew I was plannin’ on asking you out after Halloween but… he told me you and his friend had hit it off.” He stiffened slightly. “I hope that doesn’t make you uncomfortable, it’s water under the bridge, but I’m just a little upset that he lied.”

Y/N’s stomach dropped.

“He did what?”

“Yeah, I’m not sure… what the motive for that was.” He scratched the base of his neck uncomfortably. It was obvious he hadn’t necessarily wanted to divulge that information to her but she was really fucking glad he did.

She was also angry. Brad knew damn well Y/N and his friend didn’t hit it off and he had told him, albeit politely, straight to his face. It pissed her off immensely if he was being honest. It only made her hypothesis more glaringly correct the more she thought about it, but it wasn’t her place to tell Harry that Brad most definitely had a nasty, big crush on him as well. It was hard not to have one on him, having fallen victim to the Styles Charm herself.

“I don’t either but… No. M’single. I have been for months.” She admitted, not sure if the feeling in her stomach was caused by the alcohol, the anticipation, or the revelation. “I would have said yes, by the way. If you’d asked.” Finding the nerve to meet his eye, she was taken aback at the pure green mixed with a splash of oceanic blue. She’d been up close before but this felt other worldly. Knowing that he was planning on asking her out in any capacity had the feeling in her stomach intensify, looking into eyes that were so pretty it shouldn’t be allowed.

“Yeah?” He asked quietly, the air stilling slightly in the room. He was looking back just as intensely, just as intently, making her body react in ways she hadn't felt in a long time. Giddy, like a kid on christmas from the revelation. “Well… I feel a little silly now. Should have just asked you myself. But… he said you were happy and I didn’t want to intrude on that but it was hard t’be around and not want to tell you so, I kinda buried myself in work for a bit. I didn’t want to be a miserable bastard, like some child who had his toy taken away, but I felt sad that I’d missed my chance.”

The frown on his face made Y/N want to coo. He was so, so sweet. This man. He was incredible, wasn’t he? So human, but honest. Admitting his honest feelings to her despite them being potentially embarrassing. Y/N took a bit of his confidence in tow as she replied to his words, still anxious but knowing that if he could, so could she.

“I missed you. Was sad you stopped coming around.” She rested her hand on his shoulder. There was a new energy, a static between them that she could feel on her fingertips. “It wasn’t silly, though. Your feelings are valid. I understand. I’d probably be a bit hurt if I had a great kiss with someone and then found out they were supposedly seeing someone else not long after. It’s an icky feeling.” Y/N truly couldn’t blame him. She could blame Brad, though. She would.

“Yeah, but I should have… I dunno. Something felt off, I should have trusted my gut as you like to say.” He teased lightly, moving his hand up to the side of her neck. “But… ‘great kiss’, huh?” His raspberry lips, still wet from his sip of beer, turned up in a smirk. “You thought so? How great was it, really?”

Y/N could feel herself flush. God, she had been speaking truth so it hadn’t crossed her mind on how she worded it but somehow, she wasn’t regretting it. If anything, she felt a bit of relief, though his teasing made her flustered. “Stop.” She pushed his shoulder. “I was just- I was just saying.” She grumbled, eyes falling from his back to his curled mouth. She remembered just how good it felt against her own, how his hand had tightened on the back of her costume and urged her closer while the other had delicately held her jaw. A gentle, commanding presence. A will she was willing to bend to.

“Oh, don’t look away, sweetness. M’just teasing.” He cooed, lifting his knuckle to bump her chin back up. “Look cute when you’re embarrassed though. It’s sweet.” His confidence seemed to rise again at her words, which relieved her slightly. At least one of them was feeling it. “For the record- it was a really, really great kiss. S’part of why I wanted to ask you out, hm? Wanted more of that. You’re such a sweet little thing. Always so kind to everyone, maybe a little shy but… s’cute.” Laying on the praise was making her feel like she was boiling, a shy mewl leaving her mouth as she went to divert her eyes again but was interrupted by his hand.

“No more of that. Let me see your pretty eyes when m’talking to you.” It was like he had shifted, making her eyes widen. Her body wanted to respond, blinking rapidly before nodding at him slowly. “Good. Can’t believe there was so much wasted time. M’gonna have words with Brad later, but I don’t think we should wait much more. Do you?” his thumb brushed her bottom lip, making her thighs want to squeeze together. This was a side of him she had only seen the tiniest blip of when they kissed, but god, did she like it. Her body hanging on to his words.

“N-No.” She tripped over the word. “How d’you mean?” The tone was breathless, still in awe of how the situation had shifted. How his hand held the back of her neck and his hand kept her chin up so he could see her eyes. They hooded slightly, tummy twisting in anticipation. He was close, much closer than she had originally thought, and holding her face in a similar fashion to their first kiss.

“Shouldn’t wait to do what we both obviously want. I’d like t’take you out when we’re able to get out of the house, but we were held back because of some lies… and I had a lot planned for us all from that one little, really good kiss.” He murmured. The side of his face was illuminated by the roaring fire, the movie fading into the back of her mind as her eyes searched his face. “It’s been hard to be around you knowing what this mouth tastes like and knowing the pretty little noise you let out when I went t’pull away. Didn’t even want to but you seem to forget to breathe when you’re being kissed, silly girl.” He chuckled under his breath.

“Only with you.” She whispered. It hadn’t been something she meant to say out loud but seeing his smile was worth it- even a tiny bit of a blush if she was seeing correctly. He was stealing a bit of her brain power, she thinks, but at this point she didn’t mind. Harry could take over and she would happily follow.

“Yeah? With me?” He taunted, leaning closer and feeling his nose brush hers. It was cooler than his own, the fire only now starting to heat the room up- but he wanted to keep her warm in another way. At her nod, he let out a sigh. “So can I kiss you again? It’s all I can think about, y’know. When you’re around. Been dying to kiss you and even more. Such a sweet thing, y’are. So good to me. Make me laugh, make me smile. Was gutted when I thought you were with someone else. I’ll tell you a secret.” his thumb brushed her chin again, close enough that his breath could be felt against her lips. “It drove me mad, thinking about you with some other bloke. Someone who I know can’t make you feel half as good as I can. Can’t treat you like the perfect thing you are. Proper princess, aren’t you?”

Y/N was hanging on to his words, nodding along. She always wanted that, wanted to be treated like she was a diamond. To be delicately handled when need be, spoiled with affection. Harry had that quality to him, a man who could take care of business but also come home and dote. At least it seemed that way. She had to imagine him after work, suit jacket strown against the side of the couch and his tie undone, glass of bourbon in his hand. Imagine climbing in his lap and pressing kisses to his face and watching the tension in his body melt away. Let him take out his frustrations on her body instead of letting it fester on his own.

“I can be.” She replied, leaning into him. “I’d like it, a lot.” It felt hard to come up with the right words to express how she felt, how much she genuinely felt the urge to just jump on him- but he beat her to it.

Buttoning their lips together, he scooted closer to her and held her jaw tenderly. Touching her in a way reminiscent of the way he had before, she was stiff for a mere moment before melting into his touch. He was warm, much more so than her, and the blanket that had been thrown over his lap shifted so he could get closer to her. Y/N followed suit, lifting her hand to his chest, palm down on the heated shirt. His heart could be felt thumping away underneath her grasp, cluing her into the fact he was just as worked about about it as she was.

When he pulled back for a second she let out another whine, though the air felt good in her lungs. It was hard to breathe when he was kissing her, not wanting to waste a single second of the experience. Her brain was a loop of his name, not thinking about the oxygen she needed. Now she was needy, knowing that her feelings were returned in a way. She whined again as he halted her from going in again. “Breathe, sweetness. I’ll keep kissing you, but you’ve got t’remember to breathe for me.” His voice was hypnotic and he had all the control. Y/N willingly let it go. She wanted to give it to him.

“Sorry.” She peeped. “It’s hard.. Hard to think.” There was nothing but honesty in her tone, making him want to coo. Y/N was so precious, it hurt. Harry loved that he had this effect on her. The girl was putty in his hands, marshmallow fluff seeping between his fingertips. He hadn’t gotten to see this side of her before and he loved it. Being a man who was in charge most of the time and thoroughly enjoyed it, he loved that she put her trust in him and made herself malleable.

“Mm? S’hard to think when I’m kissing this pretty mouth?” He smiled, “Good. You don’t have to think. I’ll take care of you, sweet thing.” He brushed hair off her face before sitting back on the couch. “Come sit on my lap, darling. Don’t worry your pretty little head about a thing.” He was taking the reins now, and Y/N eagerly followed. Clambering onto his thighs, he had shucked the blanket to the floor and let her warming body settle on top of his. Her body melting into his lap, she clutched his tee shirt before surging back in and connecting their mouths back together.

Y/N was needy in a way she hadn’t experienced before. One of her hands slipped into his hair as he returned the kiss with matching fervor, sliding his hand down her waist and pulling her in so she was pressed against him. Breasts against his chest, the plushness of her body making his fingers dig a bit deeper as he licked into her mouth. She was his willing accomplice, his sweet escape as she mewled softly against his tongue. This was even better than their first kiss, in the privacy of Harry’s home where she could let herself go fuzzy. She’d known him long enough, trusted him, pined after him- Y/N was ready and willing for him. Spreading her thighs over his lap further and making sure they were touching in every single way possible.

A noise she wasn’t familiar with left her throat, a little grumbly moan as he sucked on her tongue and pulled off before taking more. She hadn’t been kissed like this before, her body burning as it got heated rather quickly.The revelation of returned feelings, the pining they’d silently been doing, the kiss they’d shared that haunted them, the desperation to make up for lost time- it all was a perfect concoction to the perfect storm. Hand sliding over one another, revving up the neediness as she slowly began to shift in his lap. Rolling her hips. A dangerous but necessary move.

“Careful, Darling.” The warning was mumbled against her mouth. “M’burning for you. Keep rubbing yourself against me like a little kitten and m’gonna take care of it.” All of the pent up neediness was showing itself, rearing its head and spilling over onto the carpet. Y/N would be embarrassed if she wasn’t so into him, and if he didn’t help guide her hips on him. She wanted to be his, wanted to know what he sounded like. She was in awe of how good it felt to just rub up against him. The large hand cuffed around her waist while their spit slicked lips hungrily kissed one another. Harry was unraveling her and he barely had to try. Pathetic, maybe, but he had a strong effect.

She continued the movement, even going as far to rub a bit harder before she was physically stopped, his hand gripping her chin and tugging her away. It was disorienting, making her whine in sadness, but she looked at him with a bleary gaze ad his thumb wiped at some of the wetness smeared under her mouth. “Need you to tell me how far t’go.” Harry wanted to be sure he wasn’t crossing any boundaries. He needed to. With any of his partners he established those, but Y/N especially. He would weep if he misunderstood and make her uncomfortable. “C’mon, pretty girl. I know you’re a bit out of it, but let me know what you want.” He could feel her squirm on his lap, but a simple raise of an eyebrow made her freeze.

“Anything.” She whispered. “Anything, please. Just want…” She swallowed, trying to say it properly. “Just want to make you feel good. Want you to want me. S’cold, I need you to keep me warm.” Her tone was a little pathetic, but Harry seemed to enjoy it. Relish in it, actually, with how much she was desperate for it.

“Oh, sweet baby. Want you regardless of what this body offers me… But if you want me to do anything I want, you won’t mind me slipping these off?” He plucked at the waistband of her fuzzy pajama pants. Light blue with little penguins and snowflakes. “And this?” Her white cropped tank top. Her cardigan was hung over the back of the couch, and he had access to the bare skin of the sliver of her stomach. “Yeah?” He replied to her head bobbing in agreement. “I can see my pretty girl and keep her warm?”

“Mhm.” She agreed. “Take it off. Want it off.” Her hands tugged at his shirt, making it lift up slightly. It was well known he was covered in tattoos but she wanted it up close and personal. She wanted bare skin against her own, wanted to bite on the curve of his neck and see what sounds he would make.

“Okay, needy thing.” He laughed through his nose, tugging his shirt over his head to expose himself. Swallows at the collar bones, a dusting of chest hair, the butterfly on his stomach. His arms showing off more ink, his muscles- god, he was good. So fucking hot that Y/N felt herself ruining her panties even further. How was it possible for a man to work her up just from a little kissing and grinding, merely looking at his shirtless form in the way it had for her? “How’s it, hm?”

“So pretty.” Her voice mumbled, running her hands hesitantly down his chest. Brushing his nipples slightly, making him groan before they reached his butterfly tattoo. “You’re so pretty, H.” It made the man’s ego raise up, not really being called pretty all that often. Sexy, handsome, sure. But pretty was a newer one.

“You’re prettier.” He kissed her jaw, tangling his digits in the hem of her top. What he hadn’t expected was for her bare breasts to be exposed as he lifted it up. The top had a built in bra, leaving little to the imagination to begin with but… god, he was in heaven. Dipping his head down, he kissed the top of her chest before making his way down with sticky kisses. “God, fuck me. You’re fucking gorgeous.” He hissed, palming one of her tits. “Been trying to hard to keep my eyes away from these but, but I keep droolin’ over them. Imagined them covered in my cum, did y’know that?” He worked over the curve of the exposed one whilst squeezing the other. Enjoying the feel of her in his palms. “That’s the only way they could look prettier. Covered in me.” His tongue found her nipple, making her squeak.

Y/N let out a squeak, moving a hand to his hair as he worshiped her chest. Licking, kissing, sucking, even biting down softly on her nipple before switching sides, letting his thumb brush over her now wet and slightly swollen nipple. Her cunt wept, her clit throbbing as her breathing got heavier and she tried to withhold her noises. She was making some, sure, but it was embarrassing how much wanted to pour from her lips.

“Don’t hold back from me.” He pinched her nipple harder than before, making her squeal. “Said I wanted to hear those noises, didn’t I? Be good for me.” The slight scolding only made her hotter. Something about the tone, something about Harry having complete and utter control over her body in this way had her panting.

“Sorry, m’sorry.” She simpered, spreading her legs further on his lap. Her hot cunt needed some relief, desperately. Her clit rubbing against him and the fabric of her now useless panties had her mewling, his mouth sucking harder on her nipple, hungry for it. “It feels so good, I can’t think.” Her words came out almost as a cry. She was obsessed with this feeling, albeit a tad overwhelming.

Pulling away fro her nipple with a soft pop, Harry licked over his shiny lips before cooing at her. “Who said you need to think, baby?” He stroked her hair, tangling his fingers in it and firmly tugging her head where he wanted it. “My silly girl. Just let me do the thinking. All you’ve got to do is focus on warming my cock so I can keep you nice n’warm too, yeah? Let me take over a little bit.” His tone was intoxicating, the cadence of his speech placing her under a spell. She wanted this, she wanted him to do this for them. “Good. S’time for these to come off. Want to take a peek at that pussy.” He playfully smacked her ass, motioning for her to stand on her shaky legs and let him tug her leggings down.

“What have you done, sweetness?” He crooned, looking at her panties. “Messy little thing, you’ve soaked right through them.” Nimble fingers rubbed over the gusset of her panties, the warm, wet fabric doing nothing to hide her cunt. The soft pink had gone transparent and sticky, making his cock jerk in his sweats. God, she was exquisite. A complete angel. How had he managed to keep his hands off of her? “Love that you got this sticky for me, baby. Y’like me that much?”

It was almost humiliating, the burn in her cheeks making her hot but… she liked it. She liked how he was talking to her, sweet but a tiny hint of condescending to it. It wasn’t something she knew she liked until this moment- perhaps it was something she just liked with Harry. But she shivered at the feeling of his warm fingers finding her pearled clit under the fabric, rubbing lightly over it. “I do.” She whispered. “Like you a l-lot.” Her words stuttered when he pressed his thumb over her, wiggling it back and forth. It was slightly humiliating, standing in just her wrecked panties in front of the man, but the shame licked into flames of arousal as he pulled her in and peppered kisses to her stomach. Soft, sensual ones that left a print of his saliva there before he pulled back to tug the silly waste of fabric down her legs. They were tossed to the side, Harry switching positions to have her sit on the couch.

“Good. Like you too, sweet girl. Felt so guilty, cumming all over my fist while imagining you. That perfect mouth and these pretty thighs…” He hissed, running his hands over them as he got on his knees in front of her. “But part of me didn’t care. Thought I was fantasizing about someone else’s woman, but it was you. So I did it anyway.” His lips found her sensitive inner thighs, kissing tenderly as he spread her open. “It’s a shame we wasted so much time, but m’not wasting another second.

He didn’t. A gasp tore from her mouth as he licked up her slit, tasting the sweetness he had been deprived of. Something started to unfurl inside of him, settling further as he hooked his hands under her knees and urged them to stay spread as his arms moved to their place. His fands looped around, placing one hand on the mound above her cunt, eyes peering up at her as he took his time. Languid, long licks as he cleaned her up. She had made a mess of herself, and he was taking care of it. Of course he was. He had wanted to do this for months, now. Spreading her open and tasting her right from the source.

It was like he fed off of her sounds. The tiny bucks of her hips that he quickly eased by holding her down slightly, only making her more wet. He was taking mental note of the things that she liked, and being controlled was one of them. He’d never have guessed, but he was having a beautiful time figuring it all out. His cock was throbbing, in need of relief, but he ignored it in favor of her pleasure. Pulling up momentarily, he kept their eyes locked as he let a line of split dribble from his lips to her cunt, stringing over it before he lowered his angled hand and gave her clit a few taps.

“Fuck.” Y/N whimpered. “You’re too good at this. Gonna make me cum.” She was a mess, but Harry wasn’t going to give her that. Not yet, anyways.

“No, sweetness. You’re going to cum around my cock. M’just getting you warmed up.. Although you didn’t seem to need it.” He slipped his finger inside of her after releasing a thigh to rest it on his shoulder. “Nice and wet for me already. I’m just being selfish. Wanted to taste you for ages.” His crush had been there for longer, he supposed. It had grown slowly over time, blossoming into what it was now.

He was torturing her, she was sure of it. His finger, thicker than her own, curling slightly as his mouth attached to her clit, suckling on the swollen bud. How could she hold back from orgasm when it felt this good? She was getting closer and closer with each pull into his mouth, the wet, sounds of sucking filling the air and her hands clenching around his hair, pulling him further into her cunt. His nose brushed up against her and little she could do but take it, he continued on it, working her until her thighs began to shake and the pleasure began to boil in her tummy, almost- until he stopped. Cooing at her as she began to whine, squirming in his hold and almost tearing up at her orgasm that she had been robbed of until he rose up and shut her up with a kiss.

“Told you what I wanted. Don’t pout, as pretty as it is. I’m gonna make you cum, baby.” He brushed their noses together before he walked over to his side table and opened the drawer. One day later she’d ask him about why he had a stash of condoms in there, but for now her eyes were far too focused on the obvious outline of his prick through the sweatpants. Nearly gagging for it, she felt, she peeped up at him as he stood back in front of her. “Normally I’d ask how you’d want it, but since you’re a bit thoughtless today, m’gonna choose. Lay back.” He pointed her in the direction of where he wanted her to lay.

“Don’t- don’t you want me to suck you?” Her voice sounded much needier than she had wanted, but he was endeared. His sweetness was obviously wanting to, looking at him as he palmed over himself and shook his head.

“Not today. I’ll bust right inside that mouth. As much as I want to, and I will have it later… Not now. Want to feel you wrapped around me when I cum.” Slipping down his sweats, Y/N watched as his cock bobbed up and the pulsing between her thighs intensified. He was big, thick, and wet. The tip ruddy, dark pink and weeping with precum and a prominent vein extending over the side, trimmed hair around the base up to the little line of hair that went over his stomach- yes, she had never seen a cock as appealing before, and she was feeling hot over it. He apparently noticed too, a smirk on his lips and dimple extended. “No. You’ll taste it later, but I need to be inside of you.” He liked licking her out a bit too much.

Y/N blinked up at him, nodding her head as she swallowed thickly. Settling between her thighs again, this time on his knees, she watched as he slipped the condom on before taking his other hand and cupped her cheek. He softened his gaze, looking over her face before speaking. “Need you to tell me if you want to stop. Any time, any reason and we can be done and go back to cuddling. I like you for far more than your body, sweetness.” He sighed. “Want this to be good for you. Want you to use your pretty mouth and talk t’me so I know how you feel. Don’t hold back.” He was a homeowner and the walls were thick, so it didn’t matter. No one could hear them past the roaring winds outside. The snow itself was silent, his silent savior for making Y/N stuck with him. “Get me, baby? Words.”

“Yes, I’ll tell you. I want it, I promise.” She whispered. “Think I’ll like anything you do for me. I know I’m safe with you.” And she was. Harry had always been a good friend and she would trust him with her life even beforehand, so handing her body over to his tender care didn’t seem half as scary as it may with someone else. Nerve wracking only because there were feelings there- real feelings they both admitted were felt.

“That’s my girl.” He smiled, brushing the tip against her cunt. “Gonna push in now.” He paused for a moment, leaning over to give her a kiss before righting himself on his knees and giving her what they both wanted. Fuck, was it good.

Y/N had never felt so full in her life. Her fingers curled around his wrists as he held her legs up, her stomaching jumping as she panted, Harry filled her up so well she could cry. So deep, so perfectly curved like his dick had been made for her, she dug her nails into him as she let out cries of pleasure.

“That’s what I wanted, baby. Let me hear you.” He crooned, feeling sweat begin to bead on his brow. Working his cock into her, he listened to the sounds of their sex, how wet she had gotten solely for him, and he was happy. God, he was fucking happy. Not only was he inside of her, but her feelings mirrored his own. She wasn’t taken- but she would be now.

“I feel so good.” She said up to him. “I’m so full and you’re so deep, I don’t know.. How does it feel so good?” It was evident her head was a bit in the clouds, but he was there to take care of her. “Stretching me… Don’t stop.” She babbled, closing her eyes as he hit exactly where she needed.

He continued, watching as her cunt spread open for him. Taking him deep, he was enamored with the sight of her wetness all over his cock, wishing he could ditch the latex covering his shaft. All he wanted was to leave traces of her on his skin, leave her smell and taste. This was only the beginning of their relationship, the very prologue, and he couldn’t get enough of her. “M’not gonna stop, sweet girl. You feel too good.” He exhaled. “S’only our first time. Gonna keep fucking you until you can’t take it.” It was serious. He’d held himself back from her for months now, and it was nearly christmas. “My girl… You take it so well, hm? Think you were meant to take my cock.”

“I was- I am.” She replied, blinking up at him blearily. “Nothing has ever felt so g-good. Want it all the time. Please, I don’t want to feel empty.” Her eyes watered a bit, making his cock twitch as he cooed down at her. Something about it was so erotic to him, watching her cry for his cock. For him. She needed it, needed him and he was the only one that could provide the very thing she needed. He was the only thing she could crave and he would make sure of that.

“Oh, sweetheart. So gorgeous… M’not gonna let you stay empty.” He cooed. “No, I like far too much. Want to be tucked as deep in you, as long as I can. You promised to keep my cock warm, yeah?” He wiped away a tear, bringing it off her face. “I’ll keep you warm too.” And he was. Y/N was beginning to get sticky with sweat. Feeling her hair start to stick to the nape of her neck from the room finally feeling the effects of the fire, or his movements and pleasure, she didn’t know the origin. She was almost hot, but that was welcomed. The storm going on outside, snow was coming down hard, but she was nice and warm with Harry.

Y/N felt a bit speechless. This was not how she had anticipated her night going in the slightest, but she loved every second of it. Each thrust of his cock filling her up led her closer to her orgasm, knowing she was sticky with arousal and sopping wet on his cock, and he took it in stride. Lowering his hand down to thumb over her clit, soft grunts leaving him as he fucked her. It wasn’t too rough, wasn’t too kinky, but it was perfect. He was treating her with the care she needed. Looking at her with visible fondness, only teasing her a bit, it was evident that he cared about her and that only brought her closer.

“M’gonna cum.” She whispered. “I’m gonna- I’m so close. Please let me- I was good.” Part of her worried about him deciding he wanted her to hold it again, depriving her of the pleasure, but he didn’t. He kept his thrusts the same, rubbing her clit a bit faster as he continued.

“Go ahead, my sweet thing. Make a mess on my cock. Cum for me.” She had already dripped all over him, even some towards his thighs, but he wanted more. He craved the mess only she could give him, the wet slap of skin and her puffy pussy contracting around his length. She had been so close on his finger, so he knew she was reaching it from how she squeezed him, but it was almost too good. He was a goner, watching as she arched her back and let out a broken moan, trembling yet again before her mouth dropped open and she came on him. He could feel it, her cunt squeezing him and her body tightening up as it hit her. Pulsing around him as he continued his thrusts inside of her, the delicious heat nearly making him lose his damn mind.

“Shit…” He hissed, feeling his own start to hit him. “Fuck, baby… fuck.” His voice turned slightly whiny as he held tight onto her leg, his thumb pausing on her clit as the first rope of cum spilled into the condom. Her contracting, hot cunt, her teary eyes, her swollen mouth, all of it was so beautiful that he couldn’t stand it. This was a long time coming, of course, but to actually have her on him, to feel her body react to his touch, to see her cum solely because of him? It was otherworldly. He doubted he’d felt this strongly about an orgasm before, jerking his hips as deep groans left him, imagining there was no barrier in between them as he filled the condom. He knew it was going to overflow, but he didn’t care at this moment.

All he cared about was lowering himself on top of her and kissing her senseless, holding her face like it was a precious stone. Recovering from this orgasm and kissing her, the giddy feeling never went away. It stayed as he checked on her, kissing her cheeks and her nose, wiping the hair that was stuck to her face away and murmuring praises to her. “S’my girl. Not going to let you go.” He loved this feeling. “You’re perfect. Can’t believe it took us so long, but now that I’ve got you… M’not letting go.” It was sappy, maybe, but he was finally getting what he wanted. Something he thought he’d lost the chance to have.

“Don’t want you to let go.” She sniffled, taking his face in her smaller hands once she caught her breath, pressing their lips together again before letting him rest his forehead against her own. “That was perfect. I can’t believe it either…” She stroked his hair back, the slight dampness from sweat not bothering her at all. “Does this mean I’m yours?” It felt a little embarrassing to ask, but she wanted to be clear.

“Mhm. And I’m yours. No more games. Don’t give a shit what any of our friends have to say… M’pissed I was kept away so long, but I’m not going to do it now. I wasted so much time…” He gave a bittersweet smile. “Been dying to make you mine.”

“Well…. Merry Christmas.” She giggled, eyes light and bright. Happiness illuminated her features and it nearly stopped his heart. Y/N was so beautiful that it almost hurt. And now she was his. He took her in as the multicolor lights from his tree flashed over the side of her face, heart completely filled with affection. “I’m your gift. No refunds or exchanges.” He laughed, not able to help himself from taking another kiss. “Best gift I’ve ever received.”

2K notes · View notes

strawnarrries · 7 months

Text

We Fight, We Make Up

Summary: Harry gets turned on when you yell at him.

Requested: Nope

POV: 2nd

Word count: 3.4k

Warning(s): Unprotected sex, slight degradation, slight spanking

The argument happened before the night even started. You didn't even wanna go. You wanted to stay in the hotel with your husband. Alone. Without having to share him with anyone else. Recently, you have been missing him. Yes, you see him every day and fall asleep with him every night; but you felt like you had to share him with the entire world. When he wasn't on stage in front of his thousands of fans, he was either at the gym or working with his team, writing new songs, and talking about new plans.

Tonight was one of his rare nights off and of course, he and his team wanted to go out. He wanted you to go with him and you did, but you were grumpy from the moment he brought it up to the moment you're at with him now.

You were arguing while you got ready. Harry didn't understand where you were coming from. You were on tour with him. You were with him every day, went everywhere that he went, and got to sleep next to him every night. He thought you were being a bit needy and selfish. He didn't say that to you of course, but he definitely voiced that he thought you were being irrational.

Once you had met everyone in the hotel lobby, you both put on your brave faces, not wanting to draw any attention to your problems. You tried to forget about your current struggles and have fun while you could. Neither of you drank that much. You just were not in the mood and Harry had a show the next day. It was only occasional that he would drink while on tour, but never when he had a show the next day.

Once the night was over, the argument continued.

"Y/N, baby, I dunno what you want me to do. We're on tour, this is my work. I can't spend every second with you."

"Oh my god, Harry. You know I'm not asking you to spend every second with me. I just want some alone time with you. I told you I feel like I have to share you with everyone and never get any time just you and me."

"But we do get alone time. We got a whole room to ourselves. I give you a cuddle while we fall asleep every night. Why is that not enough?"

"It's not about being enough. It's about me feeling like you're not prioritizing me or wanting to spend any time with me."

"This is the first tour that you've been able to come with me for every show. This is what it's like. I don't get alone time. This is my job. I can't just drop it all to spend time with you."

You were starting to get angry, "You don't work every hour of the day! Tonight - I told you beforehand that I didn't wanna go and I wanted to stay here with you but you wanted to go out instead."

"Well, yeah because I've got a night off and wanted to have fun with everyone."

"Exactly! Everyone. You didn't wanna spend time with me. You spend time with them every fucking day and the one day you have off you choose to be with them."

"Y/N, you-" he started before you cut him off, your voice raising in frustration, "Harry, you're my fucking husband! I shouldn't have to beg you to spend time with just me!"

All of a sudden, a cheeky, slightly evil smirk arose on his lips and his eyes scanned your body up and down. It was very rare that you got angry when you argue with him, you usually just get really sad. Your disagreements are usually quiet and filled with tears. It was your least favorite thing to do. You hated having serious conversations with Harry and couldn't help but cry when they happened. Harry was a sympathetic cryer so when you cried, he cried. In the 10 years that you and Harry have been together, you only yelled at him in an argument probably 4 times. So, he found this moment quite amusing.

"Why the fuck are you laughing?"

"I'm not," he chuckled looking up at your angry eyes.

He kept that smirk on his lips as he stared at you deeply, your blood beginning to boil as a breathy giggle left his lips.

"Oh my god, I'm so sick of this," you snapped, turning around and getting ready to storm into the bathroom.

"Y/N, stop."

He was quick to grab your arm, pulling him into you and wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you from running from him. Placing both hands on his hips, you glared up at him, "What?"

He didn't reply, his eyes bore into yours while he was pushing your hips against his, jutting his out to show you exactly what he was feeling. You could feel his tight bulge straining in his slacks against your pelvis and you could not believe what was happening.

"You're hard?" you replied as your lips mindlessly curved up in amusement, "Why?"

"Dunno, you rarely yell at me when we argue. It's kinda sexy," he replied, his voice slow and deep.

"What?" You were the one laughing now, "You're not supposed to get turned on. You're supposed to get pissed at me."

"I am pissed at you. But you're fuckin' cute when you get angry." He looked you up and down once more before adding, "Might be this outfit too."

"Oh my gosh, I wanna be mad at you so bad because of this but I'm really amused."

"Are we about to have angry sex?"

You didn't even answer him. You immediately pulled him down by the back of his neck and attacked his lips with yours. He kissed you back, moving in sync with you. His tongue caressed your lips, tasting you as you backed him up against the edge of the bed. The backs of his knees hit the mattress and he immediately sat down, pulling you with him. Pulling your dress up past your hips so you could spread your legs, you straddled his lap. His hands immediately went to your ass, cupping and squeezing it.

You continued to kiss him, making out like you were teenagers. Your kisses were fast and sloppy, your panties dampening as you ground your hips against his center. You ran your fingers through his dark hair, tugging at the soft strands gently. You felt your clit throbbing in anticipation and you knew you couldn't wait too long before he filled you up.

Your hands frantically slid down his body, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. You had been so upset with him, you had overlooked how good he looked tonight. He wore a white button-up, only having the bottom two buttons tied together to show off his tanned, tattooed chest. He paired it with a pair of black slack pants and white loafers that he had slipped off the moment you got back to your room. He had his famous cross and phallic banana necklaces on and had rings lined on almost every one of his fingers.

You slid his top off of his shoulders and tossed it carelessly onto the floor. His glistening skin and dark tattoos were now on full display for you. You ran your fingernails across his body, feeling every inch of his torso that you could reach. You continued to grind your center against his, circling your hips so his bulge rubbed perfectly against your clothed clit.

"I want you so bad," he breathed out and you hummed against his lips in agreement.

His fingertips grabbed onto the hem of your silky dress and pulled it up over your head, tossing it with his shirt. Your lips only parted to pull the dress off, immediately attaching again once you were exposed to him. His hands reached behind your back and unclasped your strapless bra with ease, letting it fall onto your lap. After grabbing it and tossing it, his hands cupped both breasts and kneaded them harshly.

His kisses trailed down your jaw to your neck, kissing, nipping, and sucking at all your sweet spots. You let your head fall to the side to give him more access and hummed in satisfaction. His lips trailed even further down until they latched onto your right breast. He sucked at your nipple, hand still kneading your left one. Flicking his tongue back and forth against your bud, your back arched into him. Nibbling on it, you whimpered and he pulled away, giving your other breast the same amount of attention.

Returning back to your lips, he tugged on the band of your panties, acknowledging that he wanted them off. You stood up in between his legs and pulled your panties down your legs, letting them pool at your feet. While you did that, he unbuttoned the button on his pants, lifted his hips, pushed them down his thighs, and pulled them off his legs.

Both of you were now completely naked and exposed to each other. You straddled his lap again and he reached down between your bodies, sliding his fingers between your folds to feel your wetness. He groaned softly as his middle finger and ring finger slipped past your opening with ease. You mimicked his moan when his fingers began to move in and out of you, the coldness of his peace ring and his pearl ring sending chills up your spine.

"Jesus, Y/N, I'm so fuckin' horny right now," he groaned desperately.

"I need you inside me," you whimpered into his ear, equally as desperate, "right now, Harry, please."

"C'mere," he hummed.

Pulling his fingers out of you, he wrapped his arms around you and stood up. Turning around, he laid you down on the sheets with your hips at the edge of the bed while standing in between your spread legs. He grasped onto both of your ankles and hooked them around his shoulders. Wrapping his right palm around his member, he wasted no time and immediately positioned his swollen tip at your entrance, sliding in while he hovered over you. You both let out moans at the euphoric feeling of him filling you up. He stilled inside of you, allowing you a minute to adjust to his size. His forehead rested against yours and he grunted softly when he felt you clench around him.

Leaning back up, he grabbed onto each of your thighs to ground you. Not holding anything back, he began thrusting in and out of you at a fast pace. He knew your body like the back of his hand. Knew every single one of your sweet spots and every single movement that made you putty in his hands.

His thighs slapped against yours and your breasts bobbed with each hard thrust of his hips. Your orgasm was quickly starting to grow closer and you found yourself clenching around him each time his tip brushed up against your good spot. Your face contorted with pleasure and you tightly gripped the sheets below you.

"Oh fuck," you whimpered softly, "Harry, yes!"

"Is this what you wanted?" he grunted in between stagged breaths, "Just wanted me to fuck you like this?"

His fingertips dug into the skin of your thighs, most likely leaving marks for you to complain about the next morning. The bed squeaked under you and you knew the backs of your thighs were quickly turning bright red with the repetitive slapping. It was purely a pornographic scene and you were in complete and utter bliss.

"Answer me."

"Yes, yes," you chanted, "I needed this so bad. Needed you, Harry."

Lifting your head slightly, you looked down and watched as he disappeared in and out of you. He was slick with you, sparkling against the light in the room. You could physically hear how wet you are for him. His movements intensify that sound with each thrust. You let your head fall back down to the bed and look up at him. He's looking down between your bodies, watching what you were just watching. His eyebrows were furrowed together and his jaw hung slack as he breathed irregularly.

You watched as his muscles clenched with each thrust, a sheen layer of sweat beginning to form on his skin, glittering his tattoos. You let your eyes squeeze shut as the pleasure grew. You felt his left hand leave your thigh and immediately grasp onto your breast, squeezing it and allowing his thumb and pointer finger to pinch at your nipples.

Without warning, he wrapped his hands around your sides and flipped you over so you were on your belly. He tapped your hip gently, acknowledging you to sit up. Resting your elbows on the sheets to support your body, you stuck your ass up in the air for him, leaning back and pressing into him. He positioned at your entrance again and started back up where he had left off.

The sound of his skin slapping and your wetness continued to echo loudly throughout the room and if he wasn't making you feel so damn good right now, you would be worried about people outside the room hearing.

"Talk to me. This is exactly what you fuckin' wanted so tell me how good I'm making you feel."

"No," you whimpered, trying to get a rise out of him, "you don't love me anymore."

"Say that one more time and I'll spank you 'till you cry," he grunted.

You grinned at his words. You knew he wouldn't actually spank you until you cried, but you wanted to challenge him, "I'm not wrong."

His hand swatted at the fullest part of your ass and you squealed at the slight sting, his rings he never took off intensifying that sting. He never spanked you super hard, just enough to get you to straighten up when you were being sassy with him.

"Wanna try me again?"

"You never give me attention anymore."

Another spank landed across your ass and you moaned, his hand massaging the area to soothe the sting, "You're such a brat. You're asking for it now, aren't you?"

After one more smack against your skin, he grunted and his thrusts came to an abrupt stop. You were about to protest but then felt his big hands collecting your hair. He switched all of it to one hand, holding it up into a ponytail. He tugged on it, pulling your head back so that he could easily lean down to nip at your ear lobe and you couldn't help the moan that left your lips. Using his free hand, he grabbed onto your hip again and began thrusting.

"Want me all to yourself all the fuckin' time, huh?" he growled into your ear, sending shivers up your spine.

"You're mine," you moaned, "Don't like sharing you."

"Fuckin' selfish is what you are," he grunted in your ear, "Can't get enough of me, huh?"

You moaned in response, breath hitching in your throat before he continued, "Got people wanting my attention left and right and you only want me for yourself. I can see why though, with how good I make you feel. Not once have I ever failed to have you fuckin' trembling under me, babe."

"You're such a fucking narcissist," you grunted, words coming out strangled.

He chuckled deeply, biting on the shell of your ear, "It's the sole reason why you married me, innit? 'cause of how easy I can get you to scream my name?"

"Fuck off," you groaned and he chuckled again, loving how he got to you.

"Got the sexiest girl in the world to be my wife. How can I not be narcissistic?"

"Mmm," you whimpered, ignoring him, "Want more."

"More? Am I not giving you enough right now?"

"No, gimme more."

"Greedy, greedy girl. You're my greedy girl though, that right?"

You hummed in agreement as he let go of your hair, your head immediately hanging low. With both hands now on your hips, fingertips gripping your skin tightly, he changed his rhythm. Fast and hard. Exactly what you wanted right now.

"I'll give you whatever you want. Got me wrapped around your little finger."

"Obviously not, or else we wouldn't be in this situation right now," you grunted in sync with the smack of his hips against yours.

"Still mad at me, huh?"

"Just shut up and make me cum," you groaned.

You heard him chuckle behind you as he kept his rhythm, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm by the second. His thighs smacked against yours and the sound echoed throughout your hotel room. Your breath was hitched in your throat, your face contorted with pleasure and your jaw slack as moans occasionally escaped when your hitched breath allowed.

He got so deep inside you, hitting your special spot just underneath where your clit was located with each thrust of his powerful hips. His fingers were gripping your hips tightly, nails carving crescent moon shapes within your skin. Your clenched around him and you could feel every inch of him moving against your walls.

"Oh, Harry," you whimpered into the sheets and Harry's heart swelled as he noticed how much you needed this. How much you needed him.

With the length of his thrusts shortening and pace only slowing down slightly, he leaned down and pressed his back against yours, cupping your waist to pull him into you.

"Haven't been giving you the attention you deserve, have I, baby?" he grunted into your ear, words in sync with his thrusts.

"Mm mm," you whimpered, his lips against the shell of your ear making you shiver.

"Been neglecting my favorite person in the world. My beautiful wife, fuck, I love you so much."

You couldn't even reply. Your voice wouldn't let you, the only thing you could get out was moans of pure pleasure by not only him inside of you, but also him finally giving you exactly what he wanted. His hands slid up your torso and gripped your breasts, squeezing them as his thumbs flicked over your nipples. You could tell he was close by the way his member twitched inside of you, his strangled moans, and the feeling of his face contorting against your back.

"Need you to cum, baby." he breathed out, "I can't cum if you don't cum first."

"I need-" you began and it was like he read your mind, fingers heading straight for your throbbing clit and rubbing it side to side vigorously, causing you to breathe out, "Yeah."

It didn't take much longer before your body became numb with pleasure. You were trembling, screaming into the sheets beneath you, knuckles turning white with how hard you were gripping the covers. Harry continued his movements to carry you through your orgasm, causing it to pulse through you in waves, euphoria completely clouding your mind.

You came down from your high with heavy breaths, the continued stimulation from his thrusts sending a new wave of pleasure over you. When it became too much, you whimpered and he pulled out, groaning painfully, "Where do you want me?"

"My back," you breathed out.

You laid down on your stomach and moved all your hair to your front, while he continued to pump himself to keep his orgasm from falling. Once you were in position, he pressed one knee to the bed to angle himself above you. It was only seconds before you felt the warm feeling of him painting your back with his creamy release, your jaw falling slack. Moans of pleasure fell from his lips as he worked himself through his orgasm, pleasure consuming his body just as it did you only seconds earlier.

Once he had milked the last of his orgasm, he immediately got up to grab a few tissues to clean you off.

"You okay, babe?" he asked while wiping the tissue across your skin.

"Mhm," you hummed in response, ready to just fall asleep in his arms.

Throwing away the soiled tissue, he stated, "All done."

You turned over onto your side and he laid down next to you, pulling you into him, breathing out, "Didn't lie when I said I always get you trembling under me, huh?"

You rolled your eyes teasingly at him, "You're so annoying."

"I love you. You know that, right?"

"I know. We still need to talk though. The problem didn't just go away 'cause you're good in bed."

He chuckled deeply, "Can we talk tomorrow? Just wanna hold you right now."

"Yeah, lemme go to the bathroom then we can go to bed," you replied as you got out of bed and made your way to the bathroom.

"Love you, sexy," he teased, landing a soft smack across the curve of your ass as you got up.

You giggled, "I love you too."

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heartateasee · 15 days

Text

“Sunkissed”

boyfriend!harry x you

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Oral sex (f receiving), hair pulling, size kink and unprotected sex

Plot: You and Harry are spending the day at the Masters, but he can’t wait to get you back to your airBNB.

⛳️ • ⛳️ • ⛳️ • ⛳️

Harry’s arm was tight around your waist as you smiled up at him underneath the Georgia sun. You had to tilt your head back a little further to see him under the brim of the hat of his that he insisted you wore to keep the sun off your head.

“Can’t have you getting too hot,” he told you. “There’s going to be some shade, but we’ll be out there all day. I’d feel awful if the heat made you sick.”

So you wore his dark blue cap with the Augusta National Golf Club logo embroidered on the front over the top of your ponytail that you pulled through the hole in the back. You were grateful that it matched the blue of the flowy, pleated athletic skirt you chose for the day - a white halter top hugging to your torso with sunglasses perched on your nose.

“You seem to be having fun,” you told Harry, and he returned your smile - dipping his head down to plant a kiss against your lips.

“Of course I am. I’m with my favorite girl, watching one of my favorite sports on this beautiful day,” Harry tapped his nose gently against yours before standing up straight again.

You couldn’t get over how good he looked. His hair that was steadily growing out was styled perfectly, and you couldn’t stop running your fingers through the front where it had grown out a little more than the other areas. Black Gucci sunglasses were pushed perfectly onto his face, and a dark blue pullover covered up his lighter blue polo.

“Glad I convinced you to not only wear that hat, but also this little number,” Harry stated as he tugged at the white cardigan that he talked you into bringing along. “I told you that you would maybe get chilly once we were out here.”

And he had been right. There was a little bit of wind, and if you were underneath the trees in the shade, it was quite cold.

“And you were correct,” you told him with a nod. “About both.”

He reached his hand down to glide over one of the globes of your ass - causing you to sink your teeth down into your bottom lip.

“You look so good today, baby,” Harry lifted his other hand to slide his sunglasses down so you’d be able to see his eyes as they trailed over you.

“Yeah?” You smirked as you curled into his side a little more, and you pressed onto your tiptoes so you were speaking into his ear. “How good?”

It was as if you could almost feel Harry shudder as you spoke, and then you felt a small squeeze on your ass cheek. “So good that I’m willing to miss seeing the last few golfers finish their rounds in order to get you back to the airBNB.”

Now you were the one who shuddered - a tingle festering in your spine as you knew what he was alluding to.

“Shall we have another cocktail and then go?”

“I think that’s a grand idea.”

⛳️ • ⛳️ • ⛳️ • ⛳️

You and Harry stumbled over each other as he unlocked the front door to the airBNB, and he was immediately tugging the cardigan off your arms - tossing it to the side with your cap soon following. His lips were attacking yours. Your mouths were filled with absolute lust and hunger, and you only disconnected them so that you could tug his pullover up and over his head. It was quickly discarded with the clothing he had already pulled from your body, but your hands were gripping to his biceps again in an instant.

He started walking the two of you backwards and into the kitchen, and you let out a mix between a squeak and a gasp as you found yourself draped over the cold marbled countertop.

“Look at your skin,” Harry hummed as his lips grazed the back of your neck - his body hovering lowly over yours. “All sunkissed from being on my arm all day. You like me showing you off to all those men? All those older men who know they can’t have you. And they can’t have you because you’re mine, yeah?”

“All yours,” you nodded, eyes struggling to look back at him from the angle he had you in.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised you with a kiss right below your ear before the pressure of his body on yours dissipated.

You were practically holding your breath as you waited for his next move, and you smirked as you felt him flip the back of your skirt up. You were wearing the tiniest thong you owned, and you knew that’s what elicited the groan that left Harry’s mouth.

“This perky little ass,” Harry’s large hands began to knead the rounds of your bottom, and you couldn’t help but moan at how good it felt just to have his hands on you.

But that’s how it always was. The slightest touch from him could have you wet in an instant.

And right now you were dripping.

Harry’s fingers hooked around the waistband of your panties, and your breath caught in the back of your throat as you felt his lips trailing down one of your ass cheeks as he lowered himself to the ground. His lips continued their assault onto the back of your thigh - teeth nipping to the junction of your knee before you stepped out of the underwear.

Harry was silent for a moment, and just when you were about to ask what was wrong, his mouth was pressing an open mouthed kiss to your cunt.

“Oh,” you whined, nails scratching against the counter top as you moved your head to rest your forehead against the cool surface. “Harry, you should let me take a shower first if you want to do that.”

You were met with a three finger smack to your clit once his lips left you - causing you to buckle at the knees.

“You’re silly if you think I don’t love it when you’re like this,” Harry scolded before you felt his tongue dragging between your folds. If you listened closely, you were sure you heard him smacking his lips. “Better than any fucking cocktail I had today.”

After that, he dove in full force. Licking, sucking and teeth grazing your clit as hands cupped right underneath your ass - Harry using his thumbs to keep you spread open.

Your whimpers and mewls bounced off the walls and the high ceilings, and you couldn’t help but to bring a hand behind you to tug at his hair. You earned yourself another groan from Harry as you pulled at his soft locks while pressing yourself slightly onto the balls of your feet.

It was everything you could do not to rut your eager pussy back onto his face, but you liked when he determined the pace at which he feasted on you. He had it down to a science at this point - you were convinced.

Once you felt one of Harry’s thumbs slowly enter you, you knew that you’d be succumbing to an orgasm soon. Your pulse quickened as heart shaped lips sealed around your aching bud, and the tip of his digit dipped in and out of you.

“Harry,” you whined, only gaining you a low hum in response that vibrated in the best way possible. “I’m about to come.”

Harry’s worship of your body only became more precise at your confession, and you felt your thighs starting to jump - the familiar pulling in your lower stomach growing tenfold.

Your climax washed over you faster than you could actually process that you were approaching it. Trembling against the counter, Harry didn’t let up until he knew the grip on his scalp was now one to pull him away - not one encouraging him to keep going.

With your chest heaving up and down, you pressed both hands against the counter to lift yourself a bit so you could look at Harry over your shoulder as he pushed himself off his knees.

His eyes held yours with his lips parted as he reached down to undo his belt. Once that was off, he quickly undid the button of his trousers, and pulled down the zipper. He pulled his leaking cock from above the waistband of his briefs, not even pushing his clothing down to his thighs so as not to waste anymore time.

“You ready for me, baby?” Harry breathed as he gave himself a couple of strokes. “‘M cock is begging to be inside you.”

“Please,” you laid back flat against the counter, and soon you felt Harry’s hand tugging at your ponytail before he wrapped it around his palm.

A gasp left you once you felt the pressure of his tip against your needy cunt, and it quickly turned into a moan as he pushed inside of you. You bit down on your bottom lip with a hum as he rocked his hips back and forth - getting you accustomed to his hefty size.

“Feels good,” you babbled subconsciously, and you heard Harry let out a soft chuckle.

“Yeah? Like me teasing you with just a little bit first?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded, eyes slipping shut as you basked in the warmth of him - one that was warmer than the actual sun you found yourself under with him all day.

“You’re already squeezing me so tight, Y/N. I don’t think I’ll be able to fit all the way.”

You knew he was just saying it to get a rise out of you. He liked it when you begged, and to be honest, you liked begging.

“No,” you pouted, eyes shooting open as you reached back to grab one of his wrists. “It will, I promise.”

“I don’t know,” Harry clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth as he shook his head, eyes flitting down to focus on where he was barely entering you. “Your pussy’s so tiny, baby. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Squirming now, you had to keep yourself from stomping your foot on the ground.

“Harry, I don’t care if it hurts. I want it to,” you demanded, and his eyes met yours once again as you felt your own darken. “Make it fit.”

Harry’s lips curled into a smirk at that, and you knew you were going to get your way.

“Just remember,” Harry leaned forward to capture your lips in a searing kiss before letting them just hover. “You asked for it.”

With one full thrust forward, Harry’s hardened prick entered you completely. It pulled a garbled moan from you, and a lewd one from Harry as he stilled. Heavy breathing surrounded the two of you, and soon Harry began to massage his thumb into your lower back.

“You okay?” Even when in your deepest pits of lust, he always made it a point to check on you. It always made your heart soar no matter how blinded you could be with a hunger for him.

“Full,” you smiled as you made eye contact with him again.

He sent you a crooked grin, moving his hand down from your hip to give one of your ass cheeks a couple soft pats. “That’s my girl.”

Harry took this as his ‘okay’ to start moving, and he pulled all the way out to his tip before pushing in fully once more. From there he started up a fluid pace, his eyes honed in on the jiggling of your ass every time it met his pelvis.

“God, I wish you could see what I get to see,” Harry’s hold on your ponytail tightened, and he began to pull it just the tiniest bit to have your torso barely meeting the marble underneath. “Taking me so fucking well, baby. Soaking my cock.”

The sounds of your arousal filled the kitchen, and with the way that Harry was hitting your spot just right, you knew your second orgasm was just a few thrusts away.

“Already gonna come again?” Your jaw went slack as Harry’s movements picked up, and you wondered if this was the deepest you had ever felt him. “About to push me out - you're squeezing me so hard.”

“Fucking me so good, Harry,” you moaned deliriously. “So big.”

Harry gave your ponytail another swift tug, and soon your back was meeting his chest. He bent his legs just a bit so he could fuck up into you at a better angle - his hand falling from your hair to reach down and play with your clit.

“I knew you could take it,” Harry sponged a kiss against the side of your neck. “Just wanted to have you beg a little bit.”

“I know,” you nodded before dropping your head back onto his shoulder. “I like begging.”

“You’re the most perfect girl, you know that? ‘M so fucking lucky to have you like this,” his other hand left your hip to caress one of your breasts through your top. “I love you so much, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Harry,” you whimpered as you leaned your body back into him even more as you felt euphoria creeping up on you again. “Oh god.”

Your second orgasm took over completely, and Harry quickly wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you steady and upright. His fingertips continued to circle your slick pearl until he knew he had worked you all the way through it.

You took his hand away from your mound, placing yours on top of his and loosely linking your fingers together as you pressed his palm against your lower stomach.

“Feel,” you told him breathlessly, and Harry choked out a moan as he felt his tip bulging out against his skin.

“That deep, yeah? I’m about to get you all nice and full with my come - tucking it all the way up in there for you.”

“I want it,” you nodded. “Please, Harry. Fill me up.”

That’s all it took for Harry’s jaw to drop, and you felt his prick pulsing inside of you as he started to do just that. You could feel his orgasm coating you from the inside - causing goosebumps to cover your skin.

“Fuck me,” Harry sighed as he rested his forehead against your temple. “That was so good.”

“It was,” you agreed, giving his hand a squeeze. “But you’ve tired me out. We’re going to have to have a lazy day tomorrow.”

Harry chuckled as he pulled his head back to properly look at you as your eyebrows narrowed with confusion. “Baby, today was just the first day,” he sent you a soft wink before pushing his hips forward, causing you to gasp as his tip brushed your delicious spot one more time.

“We’ve got three more days of this.”

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harryyskiwii · 10 months

Text

Summary: You and Harry attend a wedding together and he ends up getting very drunk.

Pairing: Boyfriend!Harry x Reader

Word count: 1,727

A/N: this was inspired by the photos we got today of Harry looking 👌🏼 at his cousins wedding. Hope you enjoy!

“Do these shoes make my legs look too long? Like scarily long?” You said walking into the bathroom where Harry was standing in front of the mirror after just having had a shower while he was in nothing but a towel and fixing his hair.

His eyes darted from his head to your legs in the corner of the mirror and he smirked “absolutely not. I love your legs” he said coming over and kissing you as you ran your hand through his wet hair.

“I’m just not sure on the dress, what do you think?” You said flattening the front of the sage green silk dress out with your hands.

“You’d look better without it but for today, it’s perfect. You look stunning babe” he says smiling at you. You thanked him and went back through to your bedroom to do the finishing touches to your makeup while Harry got ready.

It was his cousin, Ben Selley’s wedding today and he had managed to get the day off so he could attend. You were looking forward to meeting more of Harry’s extended family; you had only met Anne & her partner and Gemma and her partner Michal since you and Harry had only been dating for 9 months, so you were excited to meet everyone.

10 minutes later, Harry walked into the bedroom and your jaw dropped.

“Stop. Wait. This isn’t right. You’re going to a wedding and you’re NOT wearing cream? Are you feeling okay babe?” You said jokingly putting your hand against his forehead to check his temperature. Harry always had a thing about wearing cream to a wedding, not white as he would make clear, but cream. It was odd to see him not in this colour for once.

He chuckled at your response to his outfit “thought I’d go for something more casual today” he said, showing off his fitted black suit and casual white tank top with his orange tinted glasses with thick black frame to complete the look.

“I certainly approve of it Mr Styles” you said admiring his outfit.

It was a short drive to the church where you saw lots of guests enter the building slowly. Harry’s mum said to meet outside and you could all sit together, and you immediately felt at ease when you seen her walking towards you.

“Don’t the pair of you scrub up well!” She said bringing you in for a kiss on the cheek to greet you.

You chuckled “thanks Anne, you look lovely” you told her, although Anne always looked flawless whether she was wearing a hoodie or a dress, you think that’s where Harry gets it from.

You said hello to Gemma and Michal and entered the church.

You were slightly nervous now at meeting everyone, although excited at the same time to see his cousin getting married.

The 6 of you took a seat in an aisle and immediately Harry got chatting to the people sitting in front.

“This is my girlfriend y/n, y/n these are my other cousins, Ryan and Hayley” he said introducing you to them.

“Hi lovely to meet you” you said and smiled at them. “Nice to meet you, we’ve heard lots about you. H doesn’t stop banging on about you when he’s home” Ryan teased.

“I mean wouldn’t you, look at her. She’s a stunner” Harry said and you blushed. Gemma leaned into you and whispered “you can tell who’s the more sociable one out of me and Harry can’t you” you laughed at her. Harry could have a conversation with a brick wall if he had to.

You chatted with Gemma and Anne a little until it was time for the ceremony. The bride looked absolutely beautiful, her flower girls were adorable and her bridesmaids looked amazing. You couldn’t wait until this was you one day.

“I now pronounce you, husband and wife” the celebrant said to officiate their marriage. You all clapped and Harry leaned in towards you “that’ll be us one day babe” you smiled at the thought and continued to clap for the happy couple.

Walking out of the church and waiting for the bride and groom to get their photos taken, you and Harry mingled with the other guests.

He introduced you to a few more of his family members, all of which made you feel very welcome. Harry was asked if he wouldn’t mind being in some photos for a couple of people who weren’t in the family, friends of the bride and groom more so who didn’t know him, and because he was in his happy place, surrounded by family, he was more than happy to oblige.

“Let me get one of you two!” Anne said as she took your phone out of your hand.

“Harry stand with y/n will you” she shouted to him as he was distracted by talking to someone else. He looked over and joined you at your side, wrapping his arm around your back and his hand falling onto your waist.

“Smile!” Anne said before taking the photo. She captured a few and admired them “you two are just the loveliest couple” she said handing you the phone back. You looked at it and smiled, Harry had a slight smile on his face in the picture but he looked genuinely happy.

“That’s my new lock screen I think” you told him as you walked together towards the reception area.

Luckily at the reception, you were sat at a table with Anne, Darren, Gemma and Michal again, with another 2 of the bride’s extended family. After the meal, Harry insisted on getting shots for the table. Whenever he was at a wedding, it was a tradition he started to always get a shot of tequila after the meal. It served no purpose other than getting him more drunk, more easily. He’d only had 3 pints at this stage but you could tell he was becoming tipsy as he was becoming more and more affectionate, sliding his hand up your thigh with you pushing it away as you’re sure another wedding guest saw him do it.

The bride and groom had their first dance before inviting everyone else up to the dance floor. You and Harry remained sitting at a table, now with some of his aunts and uncles talking about life, when suddenly you both heard the all too familiar main riff of “Man, I feel like a woman” playing to which you and Harry looked at each other.

“We can’t not” he said as he stood up, grabbing your hand to pull you up. “You gotta dance to Shania” he said and at this point in the night, you’d had a few wines and a few shots so you were feeling more than ready for a dance with your boyfriend now.

You chuckled as he led you up to the dance floor, him dad dancing as he made his way up.

“The best thing about being a woman, is the prerogative to have a little fun” you and Harry screamed out over the top of the music as you danced away together, him showing off some rather questionable moves but all in all, you were both having an amazing time.

You danced the whole night after that, with Harry buying everyone another tequila shot, and another and another.

It was 1am when you decided to call it a night, not only because you were done in, but because Harry’s bank account was being rinsed with the £1,200 he’d spent on shots alone that night for the whole wedding.

Luckily, you had booked a room in the hotel where the bride and groom had the reception party so it just meant having to help a very drunk Harry up the 3 flights of stairs. You knew he should have stopped after his 10th pint and 3rd tequila shot but 3 more pints and 4 shots later, Harry’s legs were failing to carry him up the stairs.

You were drunk yourself, giggling quietly as you helped to drag him up the stairs.

“Y/n” Harry would slur as he slowly made his way up the stairs. “Shhh” you would say as you passed the rooms of other guests who were probably sound asleep and didn’t want to be woken up by some 29 year old drunk man.

“Y/n, wwhen can we have a wedding?” He slurred. “Let’s get you in and we can talk about it” you said still trying to get him to the correct room.

“Y/n” he dragged out your name as he giggled “what?” You laughed back, you were almost in as much of a drunken state as he was.

“I love you baby. I love you so much”

“I love you too. But I’d love you even more if you were in the room so move your ass” you said slapping his bum which seemed to sober him up for a brief second and gain some speed as he made his way up the stairs.

After what seemed like forever, you two made it into the hotel room and collapsed on the bed. Harry had taken his suit jacket off at this point and was now lying in just his trousers and tank top with his hands above his head. God did he look good drunk.

You felt the side of your dress being pulled “Take this off” you heard Harry say to you.

“You take it off” you said to him. “Y/n, if I could I would. Please just take it off and-“ he trailed off mid sentence and you looked over to see him falling asleep on the bed.

You laughed at his drunken state and decided to call it a night. Taking your own dress off, you removed your makeup and went back through to see Harry in the same position you had left him.

You pulled out a bottle of water and sat it on his side of the bed because you were sure he would need it when he woke up in the morning. You took off his trousers and left him in his boxers and put the cover over him so he wasn’t too cold. You got in beside him and laid your leg over his thigh and rested your hand on his chest, feeling comforted as you felt his chest slowly rise and fall.

As you lay there, you reflected on the day and how comfortable his whole family made you feel. You couldn’t wait to become a real part of the Styles family.

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gucciforasushirestaurant · 5 months

Text

Kinkmas 🎄 № 1: Cockwarming

summary: you kinda (not really) bet harry to ‘no nut november’ and its finally december 1st.

word count: 2.8k

reading time: 11 min

content warnings: 18+,cockwarming (obviously), teasing, grinding, brief fingering, fluff, clingy reader (and harry tbh), desperate, passionate p in v sex, pet names (baby, lovie).

a/n: Welcome to Kinkmas!

_____________________________

You had told Harry it was a childish idea. But one thing about Harry, he was stubborn and hard-headed, and if you'd told him not to do something he was going to do anyway….well, he'd just commit to it ten times harder. And that's precisely what he did with No Nut November.

He'd brought up the idea of participating directly after the two of you had some particularly mindblowing Halloween sex. You were giggling, wrapped up in one another, Halloween costume in pieces, still basking in your orgasm glow when you'd off-handedly joked how you couldn't believe you'd gone so long without sex like you'd grown accustomed to with Harry. He'd agreed, joking that he'd 'implode' without having you at least four times a week. Which led to you challenging him, lovingly calling him pussy whipped, and saying he couldn't last two days without you before he came begging for it. You know, because you've seen it before. His record was actually three days.

But still, if you think about it too hard, you'd realize that this, No Nut November, not having had sex with your boyfriend in a month, nonsense is all your own fault. You challenged him, and he swore to No Nut November because he's….Harry, meaning he also committed you to it as well, and now here you are. In bed, counting down the hours until December 1st. Literally. Minute by minute. And hour by hour. You've been trying to distract yourself with a book for the last hour, but you've not retained any of the words your eyes have been scanning despite flipping the pages. All you can think about is how Harry's barely touched you outside of light caresses and feather-light pecks to your lips. For. The. Last. Month. The material you were reading is by no means helping. All the talk of groaping, nipping, and ravishing. They seemed to be the only words you could pay any attention to.

While you have made your disdain for Harry's unnecessary commitment known, Harry has seemed to be unphased by it all. It was your favorite thing about him and your biggest pet peeve. He was always so nonchalant. About everything, except you! Usually, at least, but much to your surprise, he's been able to contain himself and even turned down your many attempts to break his silly vow early this month. You were disappointed, and it may have led to an even deeper conversation that the two of you needed to have when it came to your relationship with sex and your sex life. And while you were grateful that this silly bet could be a vehicle for you to have that conversation, you were ready for it to all be done. You looked over at the clock on Harry's bedside table.

One more hour. Forty-five minutes, to be exact.

Harry was still in the bathroom, going through his nightly routine and trying to get a grip himself. Harry had been strong for 29 days, nearly 30 days. He could make it one more night. But, as Harry wraps the floss around his fingers, he tries to remember why he agreed to do this in the first place. To prove a point, he's sure. What point? He couldn't think of anything else but you to think of a decent answer. But he's noticed. How you've been huffing around the house all month, but especially today, hoping he'd break on the last day and give you what you've been desperate for. How you've been glancing at the clock every forty-five minutes since the sunset. How -

"Harry, come to bed, will you?" your voice carries into the en suite from the bedroom. He can't help but smirk. You've been slightly whiny all day, all week, really, and he found it so fucking endearing. Knowing that you were just as desperate for him as he was for you. You'd deny it, but this arrangement the past month has been a fun challenge for you. He knows how much you enjoy being teased, and this month has been nothing if not one giant tease.

So, not wanting to drag out your misery any longer, Harry rushes through the rest of his routine and comes to the doorway, leaning against it, smiling at you and your book, cuddled under the covers.

"How's the book?" He asks. He always asks.

"Meh. It's okay, not as good as the first one." You rush out, place your bookmark, and close the pages. You put it on your bedside table, turning off your light, leaving only the lamp on Harry's bedside table to illuminate the room. You pat his spot next to him, a slight pout on your lips when he doesn't budge from his spot leaning against the doorframe. "Harry….come on, bedtime. I'm exhausted."

"Alright," he chuckles, pushing off the doorframe, "you just remember that." He says, peeping the cute set you'd decided to go to sleep in tonight. It was a silk baby blue, matching set that you'd just bought on a Cyber Monday sale. You figured it'd be the perfect thing to wear to break your temporary celibacy.

"Remember what?" you question oh too innocently, through a yawn, your eyes already closed.

"It's bedtime. Emphasis on bed." He flicks off the lamp on his bedside table and slides into bed in his spot behind you. You notice it after a few moments once he's comfortably tucked behind you, an arm around your waist. And you can't help the proud smirk that creeps onto your face.

Your plan worked!

You knew that the new set you'd put on, plus a few pouts, would get him hard…..he was almost too easy. So you allow yourself to wiggle around, to 'get more comfortable,' and be positive that you'd feel a grip around your hip, telling you to "be still, and go to sleep." It had happened so many nights this month, but not tonight. His tight grip is there tonight, but it's encouraging your movements. You let out a short gasp, biting your lower lip when you feel Harry's lips on the back of your neck.

"I thought it was bedtime." you tease.

"It is. I just…..I was thinking…" he mumbles between kisses to your neck and shoulder and nibbles your earlobe.

"...yes.."

"What if I just slip inside. That's not cheating, is it?"

"It's the last day." you giggle, wanting so badly to give him a taste of his own medicine but quickly losing any remnants of self-control with his lips doing wonders on your neck.

"Exactly, it would suck to come all this way to lose on a technicality, wouldn't it? So what do you think, Lovie? Did we still finish the challenge if I just - put it inside ya? Just missed you wrapped around me, baby." Now it's Harry who's whining, hand tight on your hip, grinding your ass down into his hardening cock.

You have half a mind to turn him down. After all the struggle you've been through this month, just for him to want to give in on the last day? But he feels so good pressed against you, and his lips are so soft pressed against that spot on your neck that gets you every time. His voice grounds you back down to earth before you can get too lost in the feeling.

"Baby…"

"This was your idea," you say earnestly.

"You dared me."

"I did no such -" Just then, he nipped at your neck before sucking on the sensitive skin under your ear, "No, I didn't. You're just a brat." you giggle, throwing the nickname right back at him…for once.

He pinches your side with a groan. "Don't be mean. I'm in need here, baby. Come on." He continues his work on your neck, shoulder, anywhere he can reach. After a few moments, though, he's had enough and taps at your hip, signaling you to turn over. You allow him to flip you on your other side, facing him, his lips instantly catching yours. He slots his throat between your thighs, bringing your hips to grind down onto the flexed muscle of his thigh. You can't help but let out a moan of relief that slips from your lips into Harry's mouth, which he swallows for you happily.

You allow your hands to twist into his curls at the nape of his neck, racking your nails down his scalp, pulling him closer. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you press yourself even further into him, your hips moving on their own accord now.

"You sure you want to - wanna give up." you taunt, nipping at his bottom lip.

"I. don't care. Need you. Please."

In that moment, you realize that all he needed to do was beg. All he ever needs to do is beg, and you are absolute putty in his hands.

You pull back from his lips just a few centimeters, leaning your forehead on his. But Harry was starved, chasing after your lips with his, nipping at your lips.

"Please, baby."

It was unnecessary, now. Harry's begging. You were already going to give him what he wanted, but the prayer rolling off his lips still makes your stomach flip.

"S'not cheating." you rush out before crashing your lips to his once again, eating his moans.

Suddenly, the two of you are a mess of limbs, trying to rid each other of your clothes. Granted, it was just your silk sleep set and his boxers, but the two of you refusing to separate lips made things much more difficult. Once you were both rid of the barriers, Harry rolled on top of you, burying himself in your shoulder, running his nose up your neck, nipping his way up, and moving his hips into yours. He lets out a hiss as his tip nudges at your clit, wet with your arousal from grinding down on his thigh.

"Fuck, baby." he takes his hand from your hip, snaking it between you two, "Gotta get you ready for me, okay?" He moans, leaning his forehead on hears, with a sweet peck to the pout that's made its way to your lips when you realize what he is doing.

"Harry - just -"

"It's been a month. You're not changing my mind, hey. Look at me." He says, nudging his nose to yours, "I'm right here. You just relax and take what I give you. Got it?" when you nod, without a word, he slips one of his thick fingers inside. "Got it?"

"Mhm. yeah. Sorry." you moan, curling yourself into Harry's neck.

"It's okay. Just relax; gotta fit me in there, yeah?" Harry coos at you, skillfully working his finger in and out of you. "Talk to me, baby. Missed you too much."

"Missed you too, Harry -" You force yourself away from him enough to turn your head towards him to capture his lips in a searing kiss. "Missed you so much, you have no idea." you plead, "Please, more." You whimper, rolling your hips into his hand, and he obliges, slowly pushing in a second digit.

"What do we say?"

"Thank you," you whine out, rolling your head back on your pillow, allowing Harry the room to mark up your neck like he's been waiting for all month.

"And, Lovie?"

"Hmm." you hum, blinking up at Harry.

"No coming," he smirked down at you, one hand between your legs and his other arm propping himself up on his elbow. You huff at him but nod your understanding, turning yourself into his neck for comfort while his fingers work you open. "There, you go, baby." He coos as he feels you relax on his fingers, making him want to add a third just for…safety. And he does, enjoying the cute noises bubbling up your throat with each drag of his fingers. "You're doing so good, baby. You think you're ready for me?"

You nod frantically, rolling your hips up into his hand to convince him. "Yes, always ready. Please."

He plants a deep kiss on your lips, pulling his fingers out of you, swallowing your moan in protest. He pulls away, licking his fingers clean, before maneuvering himself back, hovering over you. Harry grabs ahold of himself at the base, allowing you to roll your hips up, your clit rubbing up and down the tip of his cock.

"Shhh, baby. I'm gonna give it to you but remember, I'm just - fuck - just filling you up, okay. Gotta stay still, I'm okay?" He huffs, nipping at your jaw, placing kisses anywhere he can reach.

"Yes. Please, Harry, just -"

"Stay still, baby," he smirked, holding your hip into the mattress. When he's satisfied with your limited wiggling, he slowly runs his tip up and down your folds a few times, lining himself up before slowly pushing inside, inch by inch. "Oh, Lovie." he groans into your mouth, "Missed you so much." he licks at your bottom lip, begging for entrance, wanting to be wholly consumed with you, and you allow him to be. When he's fully seated inside, you tighten your legs around his waist and arms around his shoulders, burying your face in his shoulder, enjoying the feeling of being so full. The heaviness of him, how deep he was. It was heavenly. You enjoy his lips, kissing, and his teeth nibbling, his voice whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Enjoying the feeling of Harry. And with his lips working magic all over? You weren't sure how much longer you could just allow him to be in you without him being in you.

"Harry," you whine, "Please move."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can," you grumble, shifting your hips up to meet his, just for him to hold you back down.

"Stay still," he begs, now because he's losing his resolve and his slow ability not to finish inside you, with the way you're wrapped around him, rolling your hips and squeezing - but he's made it far. He can't give up now, not when he's so close - god, is he already tight? Just from being buried in you for a couple of minutes? You are quite literally fluttering around him, but still, he shouldn't -

"No. Harry, look. You can move - look." you insist, turning your attention to the alarm clock on his bedside table.

12:02 AM

In blinking red numbers.

"This stupid bet is over, please, Harry - oh."

He only hesitated a split second, trying to wrap his mind around what his eyes were seeing. But once it clicked. It clicked. And his hips seemed to be on autopilot, the way they slowly and sloppily rolled against yours, quickly coming up with a pace that worked magic for you both as he ground his pelvis into your clit.

"Fuck, baby - you feel so fucking good." He moans, leaning his forehead against yours, your head cradled between his forearms. "I missed you so much."

"I missed - I missed you too." you barely get the words out before you feel it creeping up on you, the tightening in your belling and tingling at the base of your spine. "I'm -"

"I know, baby, me too. Shit." He hisses, kissing down your neck, speeding up his hips. You wrap your fingers in his hair, giving it an encouraging tug that you know he always appreciates. To which he groans in your neck, and you revel in it. You're so close that your skin starts to prick with heat, and all you can sense is Harry. "Come with me. Please, Lovie." Harry begs, so you do.

You come with a bright white light flash behind your lids, your eyes snap shut, and you hold onto Harry as he holds onto you, groaning into the juncture between your shoulder and neck, biting his own lip.

A few moments later, you're still on cloud nine. You're floating, weightless, as Harry cleans up the mess between your legs, not before admiring at first, though.

"You are such a freak." you giggle, swatting Harry away and closing your knees together. "Clean me up or let me do it, but please don't -."

"Don't, what? I like seeing the mess I've made." He smirks. You roll your eyes as he opens your legs and begins work cleaning you up.

"Thank you," you murmur through a yawn. Already drawing the covers over you. Harry cleans himself off, tossing the rag on the floor to the foot of the bed, promising to put it away in the morning.

"Sorry, by the way. Didn't mean to make the first time we had sex in a month a quicky." he chuckles, climbing into bed with your wrapping himself around your naked form. "I don't know what I expected to happen, though. Don't let me do that again." He sighs, planting a kiss on your cheek.

"Never."

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novelistrry · 3 months

Text

Wind picked up, swirling around the two as she approached him. There was a leather riding jacket hooked on one of the stable doors, and as she approached him directly, he unhooked it and propped it around her shoulders. Reaching down, he began buttoning it up, until his eyes met her.

The sheepish look she had on her face nearly brought him to his knees. “How were your dreams?”

Her face felt hot. Was it noticeable? “Are you teasing me?”

A smile danced across his lips, bringing his hand to her hair and softly caressing it. “Of course not, Princess.”

Harry is a prince, Y/N is a princess, and neither of them know how to feel.

Tropes: Enemies to lovers, forced proximity, fake dating, tension, etc.

Warning: Mentions of panic attacks, nightmares, praise kink, deception, an awkward sexual encounter (consensual of course), etc! Also, this is not proofread.

Word Count: 4k, sorry it's so short D:

Part One

II. The Rain

Niall had been growing increasingly frustrated with Harry as the days passed. As Harry’s hand, and his best friend, he knew Harry was not as cruel as he made himself out to be. This plan of his, this deceit was one of the cruelest things Harry had ever thought of.

Everyday, Niall asked him if he really felt that this plan was sound, and everyday Harry would show remorse. Every now and again, Niall wanted to roll the words “you’re acting like a frightened child” off his tongue, but never could bring himself to hurt Harry’s feelings like that.

As wrong as it felt, as wrong as it was, his loyalty was not to Harry, it was to Y/N, which made him feel like scum at the bottom of a sea barrel. He could not imagine the guilt that was weighing on Harry’s conscience. He knew his friend. He knew his heart.

___

Y/N was floating on a cloud, the air smelled sweet like the grapes growing on the vineyards just South of the castle, and Harry looked so wonderful walking in front of her. A white linen shirt was loosely tucked into his riding pants, and his riding boots hit just under his knees. She could almost see his back muscles through the shirt. It was mouth watering, really. Y/N chose to walk a few steps behind him to admire what he looked like from the back, how beautiful his silhouette was.

As if he could feel her eyes on him, he turned. “Hello, dear.”

Her stomach coiled, and she nearly kicked herself for it. “Hi.”

The sheepish look she had on her face nearly brought him to his knees. “How were your dreams?”

Her face felt hot. Was it noticeable? “Are you teasing me?”

A smile danced across his lips, bringing his hand to her hair and softly caressing it. “Of course not, Princess.”

For a second, she thought maybe he would kiss her but when Brad came out of nowhere, Harry’s hand immediately dropped, putting a chunk of distance between them. Y/N couldn’t help the way her face contorted with disappointment. The way he immediately put space between them almost seemed like he was embarrassed to be acquainted with her.

She never understood exactly what they were, exactly where the boundaries were. Sometimes it felt like they were utterly obsessed with each other, and other times it felt like they were merely conversing because they needed to. The winds grew harsher as Brad neared them. The sound of the wind was like a murmur in the air, musical and somewhat daunting.

Dark clouds had surrounded the palace, signifying rain, which was not ideal riding weather. It was much too dangerous. The sound of the wind replicating the kind of haunting music you would hear the string section play in a Royal Theatre added to the ominous darkness.

“Still doing it, Princess? I’m proud of you,” Brad clapped his hands together, in support of her showing up for riding lessons.

Harry’s jaw clenched together, and his eyebrow twitched as he licked across his teeth. If Y/N knew any better, she would have thought this is something he does when he’s annoyed, “Right, she does very well.”

Her mind rushed, flooding with everything Harry had said about letting Brad into his bed. Was he upset that Brad had complimented her, when he should be complimenting Harry? The pair were so hot and cold, it was beginning to give her whiplash.

Brad and Harry exchanged a few pleasantries as Y/N brought her fingers to Freya’s coat, getting acquainted with the horse once more. Freya was so lovely, and strikingly beautiful.

As Brad scurried off, Y/N had Harry’s completely undivided attention once more.

“I want to get on Freya today.” Y/N spoke the words before she even fully thought them in her head. Her eyes went wide, but she knew why she said it. She wanted Harry to be astounded, to be completely winded with her.

Harry chuckled, tightening the bridle around Freya’s head. When Y/N didn’t say anything in response, he looked over at her and realized she was serious.

“No,” he spoke in a low voice, dancing around the subject with caution.

Anger swarmed her veins, like all of her blood cells had been replaced. Who was he to tell her no? Her ears felt hot, and Y/N’s nose scrunched. It was a habit she picked up as a young child when something didn’t go her way. Whenever she felt her nose scrunch and her eyebrows furrow, she felt like a small child demanding things go the way she wants.

“What do you mean no?” She grabbed the bridle from Harry’s hand, and he couldn’t help the smirk that spread across his mouth. Y/N was even more endearing when she was angry.

Carefully, he grabbed her by the waist, spinning her around so that their chests were pressed together. Taking a breath as the harsh winds racked through the stables, he smelled the scent of her. Vanilla and cinnamon; mouth watering and sweet.

“It means that you are precious to me,” Harry clicked his tongue, eyes locking with hers as if he were trying to convey everything he felt through his eyes. “And you don’t need to impress me.”

“How do you know that I’m not ready?” Y/N’s jaw clicked again, the scowl still apparent on her face, even with his swoon-worthy words. She would not be swayed by his charm.

Harry glanced over to where her hand was white-knuckling the bridle. When she followed his glance, she realized that her hand shook slightly, a nervous habit she picked up after her bad experience horseback riding.

He realized that he needed to approach this delicately; she was stubborn, hard-headed, and did not like to be told she couldn’t do something. He, at times, was so similar to her that it was like they were different sides of the same coin.

She dropped her hand, a deep shame washing through her. It was like he knew everything she was feeling by the microexpressions fleeting across her face.

He took her hands in his. Freya was starting to become an unwelcome third, because everytime he touched her, even in the most platonic way, she craved more.

“Don’t feel shame,” he said softly.

“I…” She trailed off, eyes glued to the ground. It was hard to look at him, and know that he was the picture-perfect prince, and she was so not. “I am not used to being… not good at something.”

Harry chuckled, and when she looked at him, she had never realized how he looked at her with so much delicacy. “I’m the worst sport you’ll ever meet, Y/N. If I am not good at something, it throws my temper. Just ask Niall. I wish I had an ounce of your poise.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” She asked quietly.

“Because… Someone must have told you that it’s not okay to feel fear and I don’t like that.” Harry looped his fingers under her chin, forcing Y/N to take her eyes off the ground and look at him. “We start small, like you did when you were first learning as a child.”

He grimaced at the poor choice of words, comparing her skill level to that of a child’s. Y/N was so easy to discourage, and he felt like he couldn’t say anything correctly.

Y/N saw the grimace and let it go. “So what do we do today?”

“How about today you just sit on Freya. I’ll hold onto her bridle, and you sit in the saddle. No walking, no trotting, just sitting.”

She chewed on the inside of her lip. “For how long?”

“Not too long,” he promised.

And with that said, his hands were all over her, helping her mount Freya. As soon as she was up, her thighs squeezing the horse tightly, he was watching for her micro-expressions that told him he needed to help her off immediately.

But she didn’t have any. If anything, a small smile formed on her lips, like she was proud she got on in the first place. Usually, she chickened out, but with Harry, she felt safe and cared for.

“You’re doing so well, Y/N.” Harry spoke, gripping the bridle closely. His hand rubbed her leg as she looked down at him. Swallowing, he realized he had been gripping the bridle with all his might, white-knuckling it the same way that she was earlier. Harry was feeling more nervous than Y/N was, and a deep sense of pride had him smiling from ear-to-ear as she confidently sat atop Freya.

She muttered an embarrassed-thanks, but by the way her head turned and her smile got bigger, he knew that she was liking the positive attention from her.

“You’re such a good girl, darling,” Harry said softly, his hands now resting on Freya’s sides to ensure she would not move.

“Me or Freya?” Y/N mumbled.

“Both, but I was talking to you, sweet girl.” She was melting.

Freya, feeling sick of their conversation and not being able to go anywhere, shifted her weight from one leg to the other. The sudden movement threw Y/N, causing a yelp to sound from her throat. Immediately, Harry dropped the bridle and reached for her hands, pulling her off of Freya and into his chest.

Whispering in her ear, he tried to soothe her before it led to a panic attack. “You’re okay, you’re fine. Sometimes they get tired of having all their weight on one side, just like us, so they move to get more comfortable. It’s normal,” he hushed her, “You’re okay.”

She shook slightly, but there were no tears or signs of panic in her eyes. As soon as Freya moved and Y/N yelped, Harry was there, pulling her head into his chest and reassuring her.

“Thank you,” she muttered.

He pulled her away, enough to scan her face and make sure that she was actually okay.

“I think that frightened me more than it frightened you, Y/N.” He laughed softly, earning a grin from her. “That’s enough for the day.”

Harry led Freya back to her stable, removing the bit and bridle from around her mouth. Y/N overheard him promise to come out a little later and ride her, or let her run wild in the tall grass behind the stables for some extra exercise. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out an apple slice he had stolen from one of the breakfast carts in the hallway and fed it to Freya with an open palm. Harry’s intention was to have Y/N do it, to get over the fear of their massive teeth, but he thought she had enough scare for one day and didn’t trust her to set a boundary she was actually comfortable with.

Using her fingers, Y/N unbuttoned the coat Harry had put on her. She was fixing to put it back on the rack, where Harry had originally had it then head back inside, but he stopped her, letting her know that he wanted to stay out here for a while longer.

Walking together, they found themselves in a large tack shed with a bench for removing riding boots. There were so many tools and instruments for the horses and Y/N didn’t quite understand what they were for, but she had a feeling he didn’t bring her in here for a lesson on tools and riding equipment.

As predicted, the rain began pouring. Pitter patters of rain, hitting the shed pinged off the wooden roof, some of the holes allowing for water droplets to seep in.. It was cold, but she felt cozy nuzzled so closely next to him. Harry was so warm and so safe.

As soon as the door shut behind them, their bodies were pressed together and his lips were merely inches from her own. “Can I kiss you, Y/N?”

She nodded, but then added, “Why won’t you do it in front of anyone?”

He spoke, now his lips pressed against hers, “This isn’t going to be a gentle peck, Y/N. How would they feel seeing my tongue on the inside of their precious princess’ mouth?”

Harry was so vulgar, sometimes the words that came out of his mouth shocked her, and the gasp that slipped past her lips, Harry used to slide his tongue along her bottom lip and pull her lip between his teeth.

Using the wall made from plywood, Harry moved her so that Y/N’s back was pressed against the wall. His thigh was fitted between her legs as his lips moved against her own. They stayed like this for a while, small moans falling from Y/N’s mouth, and each moan went straight to Harry’s core. He liked earning those from her. He liked being with her.

“I wanna feel you,” Y/N said, and even she was shocked by how outright she said it. With each day, she felt more comfortable expressing her needs to Harry, and when those four words tumbled from her lips, their faces still pressed together, he couldn’t help the vulnerable moan that escaped his own.

“You want my fingers or my mouth, doll?” Harry took a step away, so her body wasn’t smushed between the wall and his own. He wanted to see her face as she answered, as her eyes flickered around the room and she begged for either his fingers or his mouth.

She opened her mouth, then shut it again. That small bead of confidence was beginning to wither away. As if he could read her like the back of his hand, he understood that she was growing too bashful to respond.

“You want both my fingers and my mouth? You don’t have to say it, you can just say yes or no.” Harry tacked on the last end to make this experience as comfortable as possible. They hadn’t been together very much, but he always wanted her to feel safe with him.

“No, no.” She responded, looking down.

His brow quirked upward. “I’m not understanding, Y/N.”

Gently, she pressed a kiss to his neck, her tongue darting over the exposed skin as she suckled softly. It was almost like second nature, wanting to taste him everywhere. The moans that caught in the back of his throat were an added bonus to the sweet taste of his skin.

“You want to feel my cock, love?” He was trying to decipher exactly what she needed from him.

Pulling her lips from his neck, a soft string of spit attaching them together, she nodded her head. “I’m ready for it.”

He shook his head, “Not today, darling.”

She frowned, but he laced his fingers in between hers and led her to the bench against the opposite side of the tackshed. There, he sat, urging her to straddle his lap. She did exactly that, putting one leg on either side of him, so they were touching but their clothes acted as a barrier.

Y/N’s breathing caught in her throat as she felt the thickness beneath his trousers. A devilish smile that she had seen him use on countless other people before spread across his face. Using his hand, he softly grabbed her by the throat and guided her lips back to his.

Their lips worked together; their bodies in tandem with one another. Naturally, her hips started to buck, begging for some sort of relief. As she felt him against her center, she tilted her head back, exposing her neck. Harry used this as an opportunity to attach his lips to her neck and taste her, breathing in the scent of her bath soap. She was so beautiful and enticing, it made his head spin.

As they moved together, her hips became sloppier and sloppier with each roll. He tasted so marvelous, notes of mint and lemon as their mouth worked together. Y/N hadn’t realized just how much she yearned for him, in every single aspect. Even when he was being so mean, she had longed for his approval. Now, she wanted him in every single sense of the word. With just his fingers, he stopped her hips from moving against him, a displeasing cry sounding from her at the loss of friction.

“You’re doing so well for me, darling,” Harry breathed out, slightly out of breath. “I think you need to take your riding pants off, though. You should be as close to me as you can.”

She nodded, and with much enthusiasm, she stood up and quickly unlaced her boots and removed her pants. As she did that, Harry unbuttoned his own, sliding them down to his knees, revealing his white-colored briefs. The sight of him nearly finished her then and there.

“Can I give a small lick?” She asked, not caring how depraved it sounded.

“Christ, Y/N. Yeah,” he breathed.

Y/N sunk to her knees, the cold ground was somewhat uncomfortable but she was too engrossed in Harry to even realize. Darting her tongue out, she licked him over his briefs. Just enough to wet the fabric of them so much that you could see the outline of him.

“Come here,” he whined, but he didn’t have it in him to be mortified with the whiny tone. Typically, he would be.

Like before, she straddled him, her center pressed directly on the hardness of him. Once more, she was moving against him, the pleasure so much more intense now that layers of clothes had been stripped.

He used his hands to guide her, and she mumbled something about how he was a trained professional. This must have stroked his ego in the best way possible, because suddenly he was bucking into her, begging for her to come with him.

Harry often had a tough time feeling comfortable enough to reach his pinnacle with another person, it was something so deeply vulnerable to him that sometimes he couldn’t do it out of sheer embarrassment for them to see him in such an exposed state.

But when he felt her hit her high, he couldn’t stop himself before he was coming too. With no warning, he finished, come spurting in between them and landing on his white linen shirt. Just watching him finish, made her eyes roll back in her head.

Shock washed through him as her hips halted against him. Gently, he removed her from his lap, standing her up. Frantically, he looked around for a rag, anything to wipe the sticky residue off his skin and before it could stain his shirt.

He didn’t watch her as she dressed herself, completely oblivious to the fact that he had no intention of showing her that part of him.

With a hot face, he asked for his jacket to conceal the stains of his come on his shirt as he walked back to the palace, “Is it okay if I have my jacket back?”

She shimmied out of his jacket, handing it to him. He quickly threw it over his shoulders and buttoned it up before muttering out, “That was really good. Thank you.”

Shuffling through some boxes, he found a pancho they used when it was raining but the horses needed tending. He helped her put the cloak on so when she walked back to the palace, she would be assaulted by the rain and grow sickly.

Y/N just smiled at him as he rushed out, letting her know he had somewhere to be. With very much confusion, she watched him as he hurried out the door, rain pelting him.

____

That night, Harry did not find himself going back to the palace immediately.

Instead he wandered around the grass fields, too ashamed to face Niall or anyone else for that matter. Especially Y/N.

But as the sun began to set, and he knew Niall was growing more and more worried as each hour passed, he finally made his way back to the comfortable cottage Niall was staying in during their time at Y/N’s family’s palace. He was completely soaking wet when he returned, shoulders shivering. Niall ushered him to the fireplace, looking around for dry clothes that would fit Harry.

“Where have you been?” Niall asked, a clear tone of worry laced throughout his words.

And with that, Harry dropped himself onto the chair directly next to the warmth of the fireplace and spilled his guts. He told Niall about how Y/N made him feel like he couldn’t control himself, like he was a magnet that only responded to her frequency. He teared up as he told Niall what a terrible person he was for using her like this, and how it was going to feel even worse because his heart was already breaking.

And Niall, like the good friend he was, listened carefully and thoughtfully. Only when Harry concluded did he say, “If you like her so much, why don’t you call off this plan? It sounds to me like the plan is still on.”

“It is,” Harry confirmed. “I’m simply not good enough for her.”

Niall, knowing that he could not argue with Harry when he was in a mood as sour as this, rested his hand on his shoulder and offered a reassuring squeeze.

___

That night, Harry found himself sitting outside Y/N’s door, afraid that her scary experience on Freya today might haunt her in her dreams. With his back against the door, and tired eyes threatening to close, he waited to hear her screams.

He wanted to be there, to hold her and tell her it was okay.

Dorothea, hearing the sound of feet shuffling as Harry readjusted himself so that his earshot had a clear line of Y/N’s room, went out to investigate who was lingering in the hallway.

“Prince Harry?” Dorothea asked, wide eyed and confused.

Harry hummed in response, barely flickering his eyes up to meet hers. He was so tired, they were threatening to close.

“It’s the middle of the night, what are you doing here?” She was slightly delirious from just waking up.

“I’m on nightmare watch,” he muttered out and it took a second for Dorothea to comprehend exactly what he said to her.

“Prince, if she has a nightmare and calls out for you, I will come get you again. You do not need to miss sleep to wait outside her door.”

“And what if she doesn’t call out for me?” His tired eyes looked up, “Will you still come get me?”

“Yes,” she promised, reaching her hand out and helping him to his feet. “Go to bed, Prince. You need beauty sleep.”

He nodded his head, rising to his feet with her help and turning to the direction of his own bedchamber. “Can you do me another favor?”

“Hm?” The sound coming from Dorothea was soft.

Harry reached his hand behind his neck, massaging softly. “Please don’t tell her.”

Dorothea only nodded in response, a silent promise between the two of them.

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unabashegirl · 11 months

Text

Enticing (masterlist)

Summary: Harry Styles is a young billionaire and CEO of his own company. He mostly keeps to himself, he is stern and very meticulous when it comes to business. He also likes to keep his personal life very private for the sake of his newly born son Oliver Styles. It isn't until he meets Y/N Y/L/N that everything changes. She becomes his new nanny after his previous one quits due to personal reasons. She is young, caring, and sweet. Will they ignore their feelings? Will Harry's girlfriend accept their love and leave them? Will she be able to cope with his busy agenda? What about Oliver's mother? Where is she? Who is she?

CHARACTER’s cast list

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46 (early access only on Patreon)

Chapter 47 (early access only on Patreon)

Chapter 48 (early access only on Patreon)

Chapter 49 (early access only on Patreon)

Chapter 50 (early access only on Patreon)

Chapter 51 (early access only on Patreon)

Chapter 52 (early access only on Patreon)

Chapter 53 (early access only on Patreon)

Chapter 54 (early access only on Patreon)

Chapter 55 (early access only on Patreon)

Chapter 56 (early access only on Patreon)

Chapter 57 (early access only on Patreon)

Chapter 58 (early access only on Patreon)

Chapter 59 (early access only on Patreon)

Chapter 60 (early access only on Patreon)

Chapter 61 (early access only on Patreon)

Click below and join our community to continue reading Different or Enticing. Check our different tiers one for $3.00 USD or get access to both series for $5.00 USD.

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poeghoul · 6 months

Text

hard times ii.

in which y/n misses harry.

word count: 5,606 warnings: descriptions of anxiety/panic attacks, angst, a wee bit of fluff part one

Y/n stood staring at her door for what felt like an eternity, mouth agape and hands sweating beside her, but when she was finally able to break her gaze from the chipped wood that stood before her, she realized it had only been five minutes. Five, incredibly prolonged, minutes.

In a daze, she made her way to her bathroom, reaching in to flick the light on before entering. She stared at herself in the mirror; pink, tear stained cheeks while purple and blue hues graced the delicate skin under her eyes; she felt unrecognizable and hated locking eyes with who was staring back at her. She wanted to sob, a wave of anxiety crashed down onto her. She’d never felt more alone. Especially with the way he had left so abruptly. She wondered what she did to anger him so, while the sound of the door slamming played on repeat in her head.

She moved over to the shower, reaching past the curtain to turn the water on, and undressed; her vision blurred from tears begging to escape, wanting to replicate the warmth of Harry’s hand on her cheek. She still didn’t know his name, but he’s bewitched her in ways she doesn’t understand.

She stood still in the shower, covering her chest with her arms, not daring to move from the position that gave her a sense of protection. She felt watched; paranoid that the boy from the diner had found where she lived and planted hidden cameras and recording devices in every crevice of her home. She regretted getting in the shower, she regretted even undressing and, most of all, she regretted doing whatever she did to make Harry leave.

If she could go back to being in the car with him, she would’ve lied about where she lived, drawing out the quick three minute drive to a four hour road trip if it meant spending the entire night in his presence; if it meant her thigh still felt the warmth of his and especially if it meant he would have looked into her eyes for even a minute longer. She missed the sense of safety he gave her and hoped he meant it when he said someone would be staying in the area she lived in. She was doubtful of someone coming by to bring her to and from work, and even more doubtful that, if she was proven wrong, she would be seeing Harry again.

Once she had worked up the courage to wash her hair, body and face, she wrapped a towel that was far too small for her comfort around her body and stepped out of the foggy, suffocating air of her bathtub. The mirror was fogged up, which she was grateful for, not wanting to make eye contact again with a reflection she hoped was deceiving. Had she looked that disheveled all night? Or was it just a reflection of the trauma she had been so unlucky to endure?

After she dressed herself in fuzzy pajama bottoms and a large sweater, she searched for her phone and tv remote, the silence of her apartment had become louder than ever before; it was unbearable, uncomfortable. She wanted to crawl out of her skin; wanted to become two separate piles of flesh and bone. Maybe her ribs wouldn’t feel so hollow, but still, somehow, filled with rocks. Maybe she wouldn’t have to stare at an unfamiliar face in the mirror and hate what she saw, afterall, she wouldn’t have flesh to prod at.

The silence became deafening. She needed something to fill the space, no longer comfortable with where her internal monologue was headed.

Finding the remote, she turned her tv onto Netflix, playing the first thing she saw (she was so grateful it wasn’t Pride and Prejudice, she would’ve just cried on the floor the rest of the night), and throwing the remote somewhere on her bed. She searched her bag for her phone, remembering she had left it in the pocket of her jeans but forgetting if she had set it down somewhere. And for some reason, not being able to find her phone was her breaking point.

She began pacing, breathing picking up before getting caught in her throat like a jagged pill that was too big to swallow. With trembling hands, she gripped strands of her hair, tugging on the root and yanking as hard as she could. She needed the sting, something to bring her back down; she felt like she was floating away; a balloon in the weak grasp of a six year old, haphazardly letting go, and crying from the lack of care. Her breathing caught again, and she couldn’t contain the sob that was begging, pleading with her to escape.

She made her way to the bed, her vision becoming tunneled, and sat down while tears rolled down her face and onto her neck. The sound of the tv was drowned out by a ringing in her ears. She wished she wasn’t alone. She wished he had stayed a second longer. She wished his cologne wasn’t lingering in her studio. She wished his hand stayed on her cheek and, most of all, she wished he would’ve told her his name. She worried she wouldn’t see him again; she worried over how attached she had become to him, knowing it wasn’t healthy. But she couldn’t help it; not very many men would’ve done what he did for her. She would forever be grateful for him even if he never graced her with his presence again, she hoped he would, though.

Finally, she was able to lay down, pulling the covers over her head and pulling her knees to her chest. Squeezing her eyes shut, she covered her mouth with her hand, a poor attempt at muffling the wails that left her body with her palm. The crying had begun to make her nauseous, thinking she’d vomit at any moment. The anxiety caused by that boy at the counter built up in her stomach, the pressure building up there beginning to burst. She rolled onto her back, not caring that this is the last position you’re supposed to be in when about to throw up, and thrashed. Gripping the sheets in her hands, her knuckles turned white, and she stuffed as much as she could take in her mouth and screamed, back arching into nothing above her, as a way to release the built up pressure coursing through her blood. Her throat ached.

She wished he had stayed. She longed to be held.

She cried herself to sleep.

+++

Y/n got out of bed only when she had to; when she needed water and had to use the bathroom. She felt like all the life was drained out of her. And when she did use the bathroom, she didn’t wash her hands, not wanting to spend any extra time out of the familiar, comforting warmth of her bed (also not daring to even catch her reflection in the mirror, she was sure it’d make her feel ten times worse). She didn’t eat anything that morning and barely moved a muscle; her limbs aching all over.

When she had to get ready for work, she brushed her teeth facing away from the mirror, and spat the toothpaste into the toilet. Brushed her hair, washed her face and did her makeup, all while barely making eye contact with herself. Though, she did feel significantly better after taking care of herself.

She dressed herself in her normal uniform, a black long sleeve with black corduroy pants, and tried to slip her feet into her high top sneakers without untying them (she wasn’t sure why she always did that when she was never successful; always having to untie them and put them on her feet just to retie them, but she’d never admit defeat and would definitely do the same tomorrow).

Still unsure of where her phone was, she looked to the time displayed on the clock beside her bed. Only having about ten minutes to spare, she had to prioritize her options: either tear her apartment apart in search of her little cracked device or possibly get a coffee and have a cigarette. She chose the latter. She grabbed her keys from the little dish on her kitchen counter, stepped outside and locked the door behind her. She could look later.

Skipping down the stairs, she pulled out the little blue carton of cigarettes and plucked one from the cardboard. Bringing the little stick to her mouth, she searched for her green lighter in her bag (the color only reminded her of his eyes, and introduced a dull ache in her chest), and cupped her hands around the end of the cigarette to light it. She inhaled the smoke, holding it in her lungs til it burned slightly, before exhaling and repeating the process over and over as she began to make her way to the diner. Black, stale coffee from a little ceramic mug will have to do for today.

She was an hour into her shift, only attending three tables so far, when the bell on the door chimed. She approached the door and her breath caught. Green eyes looking around before staring into her. He walked to her, stomping his feel on the vinyl, checkered flooring as he neared her. Her expression similar to one of a deer in headlights.

“I thought I told you I’d be sending someone to get you, did you not listen to me?” he spat at her, grabbing her arm to pull her closer, his hand lingering on her elbow. She felt tingly, butterflies erupting from cocoons that filled her stomach. She just stared at him, mouth slightly agape. His nostrils flared, “I asked you a question, Y/n,” y/n, even the way he said her name ignited something deep in her.

“I-I just forgot, I’m sorry,” she bowed her head, gnawing on her bottom lip while her hands suddenly became more interesting than the man she yearned for the night before. He sighed, his eyes closed.

“How did you forget? I told you that just last night,” she shrugged, still looking down. She went to respond, “look at me when I speak to you,” her head shot up, looking at him with doe like eyes. She thought she could get lost in the forest of his eyes; tall trees towering over her with leaves the same shade as his irises, crisp air filling her lungs while the wind whispered her name over and over again.

“I just didn’t think you were serious, I’m sorry,” she continued to pick at her nails with her left hand, needing to occupy herself in some way to keep her composure, and pulled her bottom lip back between her teeth. Pale pink flesh turned bright red from surfacing blood.

He didn’t like her response; she doubted his word. “I was absolutely serious, y/n, your safety,” he cut himself off, taking a deep breath in, he let go of her arm, not realizing he was still holding onto her. “Don’t you dare try to walk home tonight, Jax will be here to get you. You are only to leave if it’s with him, understood?” she nodded, muttering a ‘yes’ under her breath. “I don’t understand mumbling, use your words.”

“Yes,” she replied immediately, “yes, yeah, I understand.”

“Good,” he reached into his jacket pocket, a deep green rectangle in his hand. “You were dumb enough to leave your phone in my car,” her jaw dropped at the insult, he held back a smirk, her reaction feeding his desire for her. “Should keep better track of your belongings, y/n,” she pouted, furrowing her eyebrows at him. She looked like a sad little puppy, and all Harry wanted to do was suck her spit slicked bottom lip between his and touch her soft skin again. He stared down at her and the bell on the door chimed again. She broke her gaze, looking to the patron who’d just walked in. She stepped back to grab a menu and navigated around Harry to bring the customer to an unoccupied table (there was plenty, only one other person here) all while he watched her.

After she gave her introduction and took a drink order, she walked back to Harry. “Thank you for bringing my phone, I won’t forget it tonight,” she smiled at him but dropped it as he didn’t return the kind gesture. He nodded, her eyes wandering from his, unable to maintain composure while staring into his. He hummed out a ‘yeah’ in response.

“Is it always this dead?” she shrugged one shoulder, looking out the window.

“Mmm, kinda, depends on the season,” she looked back to him, “I have to bring him his drink, thanks again for bringing my phone,” she half smiled.

“Don’t forget tonight, please.”

“I won’t,” she meant it. She absolutely wouldn’t. She couldn’t wait for her shift to be over.

He didn’t move to leave, still. He stepped closer to her, taking a deep breath in while her breathing picked up, her heart beating erratically; she swore he would cause her to go into cardiac arrest with how close he was. He looked down at her, a significant difference in height, and y/n felt like she could collapse at any given moment. He was so close.

And that was it. He turned to leave, not saying anything. Just turned around, opened the door and left.

She pretended like it didn't hurt and resumed working as usual.

+++

She didn’t have to stay late tonight like the previous. The last customer left a good forty five minutes before closing, giving her plenty of time to properly clean the little diner and scroll through her phone before being able to actually leave. And once 10:00pm hit, she locked the door before heading into the back for her nightly routine of gathering her things and clocking out.

She stepped outside with one of the cooks, saying their goodbyes to each other before parting ways. She looked ahead of her to the black range rover with a familiar man standing in front, the kind man who sat at the counter last night. She smiled at him while she approached him, he held the door open for her and she slid into an empty backseat. Her smile faltered.

“How was your shift, miss y/n?” He asked as he slipped in the front seat.

She locked eyes with him in the rearview mirror and smiled at him, “it was good, thank you.”

“You gave Mr. Styles quite the scare this morning,” he chuckled.

Mr Styles.

“I’m sorry, I-I really didn’t know he was serious, I’m sorry,” she rushed out, shaking her head rapidly.

“Oh don’t worry, sweet pea, he overreacts to everything,” he pulled out of the parking lot. She stayed quiet in the backseat. The drive was short, she was home almost instantly.

“Thank you for the ride,” she collected her bag, adjusting the strap over her shoulder, “I’m off tomorrow so I won’t be seeing you, um, but should I give you my work schedule or-?”

“Mr.Styles already has it,” he smiled at her in the rearview, “enjoy your day off.”

“Oh, okay. Thank you, again,” she returned the smile and opened the door, jumping out and shutting the door behind her before she made her way up the stairs leading to her studio.

She pulled out her keys from her bag, inserted the key and entered the space. She turned the lights on, made her way to the kitchen and set her keys in the glass dish. After kicking her shoes off, she sat on the floor, leaning her back against her bed frame and scrolled through tiktok, trying to distract herself from descending into madness over the fact that he somehow just had her schedule (it absolutely worked, she watched one fifteen second video and the question was completely out of her mind).

She was giggling at her for you page when an unknown number called. She rolled her eyes, sending it to voicemail and resumed her uneventful scrolling. Or she tried to, as the number called again. And she sent it to voicemail, again. And they called again, she groaned and sent them to voicemail another time. The caller really couldn’t take a hint, could they?

Her phone vibrated in her hand, the number resorting to texting rather than calling. A smart move on their behalf, who answers calls from unknown numbers these days? Literally no one, that's who.

Unknown:

Answer the phone.

Y/n:

who is this??

Unknown:

Harry.

Y/n:

harry who?

Unknown:

Just answer the call, y/n.

The drop of her name freaked her out, she held her phone cautiously in her hand. Breathing picking up as she anticipated another call. The familiar call screen popped up, and she hit the green button this time, held it up to her cheek and uttered a ‘hello’ into the speaker.

“Why’d you send me to voicemail?” she recognized the voice immediately.

A dimple dug into the skin of her cheek as she grinned, “I don’t answer unknown numbers, Harry,” she loved saying his name. She wished she could make a song of it. Harry, Harry, Harry, she would sing in the prettiest, sweetest melody.

“Well, I suppose that's for the best. But from here on I expect an immediate answer, understood?”

“Mmhm,” she responded, chewing on her bottom lip to contain her giddiness; she’s only known him for one day and he already has her like this!

He sighed into his speaker, “I’ve already told you, y/n, use your words. I don’t like repeating myself.”

She rolled her eyes, “yes sir,” she mocked.

“Good girl,” her eyes widened and she swore her heart stopped, and maybe he meant it in a fatherly way, but she would absolutely read into it in a way beyond that. In a very non-fatherly way. “Did you make it inside?”

“Yes.”

“That’s good” she bit her lip and shut her eyes. “And Jax was on time?”

“Yes,” she couldn’t find anymore words in her vocabulary, like twenty three years of speaking and learning new terms were thrown out the window from a simple praise. A praise that probably meant nothing to him,

“And you’re off tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“And yes is the only word you know?”

“Yes,” he laughed, “wait no. No,” she scrunched her face up, covering her eyes with her hand, thankful he wasn’t physically with her in her moment of embarrassment. Though if Harry was here again, she would’ve found a way to embarrass herself even more. “How did you even get my number?”

“Your passcode isn’t really that hard to guess,” she scoffed, he breathed out another laugh. Is it possible to tattoo someone's voice onto your body? “Fifteen-fifteen, real creative.”

“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes, trying to suppress the wide smile that was begging to stretch the skin of her cheeks. “Is snooping through my phone how you found my schedule?”

“Maybe,” he teased. Her smile was too strong, breaking across her face while her cheeks ached from how wide it was. “Get some sleep, y/n. Let me know when you wake in the morning, please.”

“I will, Harry, thank you.”

“Goodnight, y/n.”

“Goodnight, Harry.”

Reluctantly, she pressed the red button on the bottom of the screen, a giddy feeling in her veins. She stood from her position on the floor, and laid on her stomach on her bed, her feet kicking in the air as Harry’s name played on repeat in her brain. She smushed her face into her duvet and squealed, kicking her feet as fast as they could go. She couldn’t wait to wake up tomorrow.

Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry.

She loved the way his name played on repeat in her mind while she got ready for bed.

She loved the way her name rolled off his tongue and fell asleep while it played on repeat; her new favorite song. She just wished she could physically listen to it at that moment.

+++

Harry:

Call me when you’re awake.

Y/n stared at the message for nearly twenty minutes, rereading the five words over and over again, but somehow couldn’t manage to respond or call. She even had her read receipts on, so if Harry did check the message he sent, he absolutely would’ve known she was awake. But she still couldn’t bring herself to reply and she definitely was not going to be calling him; she knew he’d call her if he noticed she had read it, she would just wait for the call from him and take his degradation with a giddy little smile.

When more minutes passed, she hovered her thumb over his contact icon at the top of the screen. What was she even gonna say? Why did he want her to call him? Why did he make her so nervous all the damn time? Even thinking about talking to him made her anxiety spike. Even thinking about hearing his voice say her name again rendered her thoughtless. And so her thumb stayed hovered over the little icon at the top, still not daring to make an actual move. She wondered why he hadn’t called her yet.

Huffing out a groan, she turned off the screen and set her phone beside her, deciding that, instead of dwelling in her anxiety, she would make a little cup of coffee. When she had the time, she would make an oat milk chai tea latte, with extra, extra cinnamon on the bottom and top. Iced, of course. Even in the dead of winter, she’d rather have a cold drink over hot, claiming the hot lattes would give her a tummy ache but somehow teas were fine year round. As soon as she rose from her squeaky bed, her phone began vibrating from somewhere in the sheets. In a panic, she tore her bed apart, pulling the comforter off completely before throwing it to the floor.

“Please god don’t let it go to voicemail, please please please,” she felt around for her phone in a frenzy. How was it so easy to lose when she literally had it in her hand two seconds ago? And, of course he would call as soon as she got out of bed, he would do that. “Yes!” she shouted once she found it underneath her pillow, but, with her luck, it went to voicemail.

Phone:

Harry Missed call

Harry:

Call me.

Harry:

Now.

Oh, he was pissed. She knew she was in for it. She tapped on the missed call notification and held it up to her ear. He picked up immediately.

“You don’t know how to answer a phone, y/n?”

“I do, I just misplaced my phone, I’m sorry,” she pouted, and even though he wasn’t with her, he could see her sad little puppy dog face within her tone.

He sighed into his speaker, “you’re infuriating, you know that?” she frowned.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. He made her feel so small; sometimes in the worst way.

“Don’t be, little lamb, I’m only teasing,” little lamb.

She’s convinced she died. She’s convinced she actually died and is dead and is in heaven. He killed her, she’s sure.

“Did you call me to be mean to me?” she pulled her lips into her mouth, concealing a smile.

He laughed, her heart stopped, “well, that’s one of the reasons,” he chuckled, “do you need to go anywhere today, I can send Jax to get you.”

“Mmm,” she thought for a moment, “I may have to do grocery shopping but it’s not, like, dire or anything,” she shrugged.

“That’s it?”

She nodded, “well, yeah. I don’t really do much on my days off.”

She heard shuffling in the back, “you don’t get bored?”

“Sometimes, but I like having time to myself like this. I’ll have to clean today, though, so that'll keep me occupied. I might bake something if I have the time.”

“Mm, what’ll you bake if you have the time?” every noise, every word he lets out makes her heart flutter.

“I have some old bananas in the fridge so I’m thinking maybe a banana bread with chocolate chips. I wanna try to make cinnamon rolls again but I’m too lazy to wait for the dough to rise,” his laugh echoed through the speaker.

“If you do decide to bake some, could you possibly make enough for me?” Yes. Yes. She would bake anything ever if he’d ask. She’d do anything.

“Yeah, I can make enough for you,” she grinned.

Then, the switch flipped.

“Let me know if you need Jax to get you. Have a good day, y/n,” and he hung up.

A frown replaced her beaming smile, her face contorting in confusion. She’d done it again. She doesn’t know what, but she knew she had done something to upset him again.

Y/n practically had no choice but to stay in bed for the rest of the day. The life drained out of her once again. Her head pounded from the lack of caffeine in her system and her stomach ached from lack of food.

Baking was off the table. Cleaning was unattainable. Her tv played in the back while she stared at the wall.

She hated how she grew attached to people so easily. She hated how badly she wanted him to call her again. She hated how badly she wanted to hear his voice. She hated how much she just wanted to be called little lamb again and kissed on the forehead while he held her. It would never happen, though, but she wanted it to happen. So badly.

She yearned for him the rest of the day.

+++

It was dark by the time she finally got out of bed, leaving the warmth of her comfortable position from which she dwelled on her sadness. The recent time change was not helping her emote properly as it got darker earlier now, and was probably only around 5:30 when she finally made the decision to get up. She winced when her feet touched her freezing hardwood flooring, and made her way to the kitchen. Opening up the fridge, she could’ve sworn that a little fly flew out, as there was nothing but old, browned bananas and plenty of apple juice. She wished she had the courage to text Harry and asked if Jax could take her to the grocery store. Banana bread with chocolate chips sounded so good right now.

If she had the money to spare, she could order some pizza, but, of course with the money she makes and the expenses of her apartment, she doesn’t. So instead, she’ll walk to the 24 hour liquor store down the street and buy a bag of chips and a bottle of wine. Getting drunk and watching Brokeback Mountain sounded like the best idea (it wasn’t).

She pulled a different sweater over her head and replaced her sleeping pair of sweatpants with a pair of outside sweatpants (there’s a difference!). Picking up her bag and keys, she headed out the door locking it behind her.

“Where are you going?” she jumped, dropping her keys from her hand. Piercing green eyes looked through her.

“What are you doing here?” she had to look away, she couldn’t maintain eye contact with Harry. Especially when he’s wearing a navy blue suit with the sleeves rolled up.

“I asked you a question, y/n. I expect an answer,” he stepped to her, looking down at her when she couldn’t even look at him.

“I,” she sighed, tears welling in her eyes again. “I just wanted a snack so I was just gonna walk to the store, it’s not far.”

“Get inside,” she looked up at him, he noticed her pained expression, an unfamiliar ache in his chest. “Please,” he sighed, “please y/n just, just get inside.”

She turned, picked up her keys from the floor and unlocked the door, him following behind her. It reminded her of the other night, but this time she was prepared for him to leave angry again. This time, she wouldn’t let him touch her cheek or be sweet to her. She sat on her bed, her head hung low.

“You didn’t make banana bread?” she shook her head. “Oh.” she muttered something he couldn’t make out and sighed in response, “I don’t understand mumbling, y/n, I’ve told you this.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” she still didn’t look at him.

He smiled at her even though she wasn’t looking, “just came to collect my banana bread but I’ve been let down,” he tried to joke with her.

“Sorry.”

He sighed, running his hand through his hair and went to sit next to her on the bed. Still, she wouldn’t look at him. “What’s wrong little lamb?”

She hated that he called her that. Hated that he was so hot and cold with her. She wished he had never come into the diner. Wished that stupid boy never waited for her outside.

“Nothing, ‘m just tired,” she lied, crossing her arms over her chest. He stared at her for a beat.

“Do you still want a snack?” she shook her head. “What have you eaten?” she mumbled out a ‘nothing’ loud enough for him to hear and he ignored the fact that she mumbled against his wishes. “Gotta get some food in ya, little lamb.”

“Stop calling me that,” she loved the nickname, but hearing it in that moment was too much for her. She longed for him to call her that all day, it crushed her thinking that he was only calling her that out of pity now.

“Why?”

“Don’t like it,” she lied, again, but she wouldn’t admit that she loved it. She wouldn’t admit it was her favorite sound.

“Oh okay, I’m sorry then, I’ll stop,” but he really didn’t want to. He wanted to call her his little lamb and stare into her doe like eyes and kiss her pink lips until his lungs gave out. And much like her, he’d never admit it. “But we still gotta get you something li-.” he stopped himself before it could slip from his lips. “Can order you something, anything you’d like,” still stubborn she shook her head. “Y/n please, let me order you something. You need to eat,” he reached up to push her hair behind her ear but she pulled away. He pulled his hand back, the unrecognizable ache deepened.

“ ‘M not hungry.”

“Fine. Go ‘head and pout all night. Fine by me,” he got off the bed and approached the door, hoping it would get her to say something, anything, to get him to stay. But she said nothing. His hand lingered on the doorknob.

“Bye,” was all she said. But he still wouldn’t leave. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, exhaling through his mouth, turned around and walked over to y/n.

He crouched down below her, his hands on her knees. “Please, please just look at me.”

Her hair covered her face, his hands begged him to push it out of the way so he could look into her irises, having never seen any such a beautiful color.

Finally, she looked at him. Her face flushed with watery eyes and a bright pink nose. Tentatively, he reached up, his thumb wiping away a stray tear that managed to escape, before resuming their place on her knees. “Can you please tell me why you’re crying? Please.”

She breathed in and gulped. “You make me feel small,” her lips quivered. “You’re so,” she looked around, trying to organize her thoughts enough to create a coherent sentence. “You’re so hot and cold. This morning, on the phone, at first you were so kind and then you just weren’t,” she looked away from him, picking at the peeling skin around her nails. “You keep leaving like you’re angry and I don’t think you like me very much but you keep coming back and it’s just so confusing.”

“I’m so sorry, little lamb. I just, I,” he was at a loss for words, not knowing how to properly express his feelings.

“You just what, Harry?” she looked down at him, silently begging him to explain himself. They’ve only known each other for two days but he’s captivated her, so enchanted by the mere fact that he’s here before her; that he’s real.

“I don’t know,” he said in a low tone, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, I think it’s best if I leave.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry too.”

He removed his hands from her knees, getting up to make his way to the door. He didn’t hesitate this time though, he opened it up, the chill of the autumn breeze passing by him and entering the space. He wanted so badly for her to ask him to stay, but he felt even if she did, she wouldn’t have meant it. That hurt the most.

The door closed behind him, y/n was quick to get up and lock it. She went to lay in her bed again, her face contorting with pain, a sob escaping her lips as her head hit the pillow. Her phone vibrated next to her.

Harry:

Contact: Jax D.

In case you need to go anywhere.

She wouldn’t reply. And she wouldn’t see or speak to Harry for nearly a month.

But she’d think about him everyday. From the moment she’d wake up to the moment she’d fall asleep.

crying in the light of the TV static

tags: @tiaamberxx

#harry #harry styles #harry fanfic #harry smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #mafia harry #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #one direction fan fic #baldrry #harry x reader

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harrysonlylover · 3 months

Text

Insatiable*

Short smutty blurb based off this gif!

Wc: 1.2k

Warnings: degradation, unprotected sex, slightly mean dom h.

Trope: no specific AU

Masterlist

Harry is ascending to heaven, he’s sure of that.

He must be one of the lucky ones who were chosen to be blessed in their lifetime. He can’t quite remember what good deed he did to deserve this—but he’s not letting her get away.

His ears were ringing and he felt dizzy, almost lost himself for a hot minute before remembering to keep his eyes on her. It would be a shame to close them.

His eyes couldn’t get enough of staring at her perfect body, right in front of him.

“So fucking beautiful.” He panted, his hands frantically roaming her skin.

She only responded with a soft whine, trying to keep up and ignore the cramping in her legs. She needed his cock, needed to ride him, no matter how tiring. She wanted to show him that she’s his good girl and that she can work for his cock to earn it.

It was hitting her sweet spongy spot, daring her to fall against Harry’s chest and beg him to fuck her.

But no, she bounced like a good girl on his creamy cock that was shining with a mix of their juices. She felt like their lower bodies were on fire—the heat bubbling up in her core was euphoric.

“Pretty girl showing daddy how much she loves his cock.” He praised her, moving a few hair strands from her face, before patting her head.

Damn right, she loved it.

The sound of skin slapping and her soft whines had him rolling his eyes. But again—he couldn’t keep his eyes away for too long. Her breasts were in his face, jiggling with every bounce, begging him to knead them and have a taste.

He untied her hair allowing it to cascade down her back. He adored her hair and loved giving her head scratches, but most importantly he craved pulling it while he thrusted into her from behind.

“Gonna light me up with how warm your pussy is baby.” His raspy voice wasn’t helping her neediness, after all, she was in desperate need of his cock.

“N-need it.” She managed to confess through ragged breathing. The view he had may be sinful, but hers is sending her straight to hell.

He was laid back against the headboard, a hint of a grin spread across his pretty face. His beard was still covered in her cum from when he worshipped her earlier.

His hair, so messy from the tugging yet still curly. She couldn’t help but glance down at his chest, a line of sweat trailing down to his chiseled abs that contracted under the dim light.

Not only can she feel how wet and messy they are but she can also hear it. In fact, his pelvis was already coated.

His pupils were blown and his lips were slightly parted in awe. He raked his eyes quickly from where they were connected, watching her sink on his length, to her gorgeous face and chest.

But—he can’t quite forget the setup he made. He placed a tall mirror behind them, so he can glance at it and get a good view of her back and ass that was red.

“Is that all you got princess, hmm? Thought you were my good girl.” He landed a harsh slap on her already sensitive cheeks.

“I—am.” He swore that she almost cried right there and then. He knew how uncomfortable the position must be and still—she fastened her pace.

“Shhhh baby, just take my cock. It’ll help your greedy cunt to rest.” He mocked, not forgetting to degrade her for her sigh of relief once he pushed inside—it was like her cunt needed his cock to survive.

His hands roamed her back which arched when he purposely thrusted all of a sudden. Her head rolled backward as she clenched on his swollen cock.

She was his fucking sex goddess.

He couldn’t stop exploring her back as his ears listened to her beautiful whines and whimpers. He initially mocked her, asking her if she was ovulating—but maybe her pussy is just made for his cock.

He could tell that she was starting to get tired, her forehead dropped against his as she panted and held eye contact with him. His hand rested on her ass, rubbing over the red skin.

“Poor bunny, got tired already?” She nodded quickly, slowing down her pace.

“Then I should make use of this hole, right?” His deep voice went straight to her core as she whispered ‘Please Daddy.”

He really felt like passing out from how good she felt, so warm and wet. Just for him.

He dug his heels into the mattress and placed his hands on her bruised hips before grinning at her and thrusting inside her.

“Need to do everything for you.” His thrusts were rough, and she could feel him in her stomach.

“Always have to fuck this cunt or else you’ll drool like a puppy in heat.” The degrading went through her brain, making her moan like crazy.

He was feral with his pounding, she knew that she’d be sore for days to come. But she also knew that he would kiss her pussy to ease the pain.

She already came twice, almost came for the third time from riding him but she couldn’t continue. With his current rough force, she won’t last long.

He was so raw and primal—his tongue nipped at her skin, just anywhere. She could feel his rapid heartbeats, the thickness of his swollen length pulsing inside her as he fucked her repeatedly.

And god—don’t even ask her about his naked body, how his thighs and pelvis would look right now, all wet and coated from her juices. If she wasn’t already wrecked—he’d ask her to clean it up with her tongue.

“Cum inside me.” She begged as she held his face in her hands.

“Yeah? Is that what you want? My hot load inside of your cunt?” He teased, giving her deep slow thrusts.

“Yes—Daddy.”

“Hmm, maybe that’ll tame your pussy.” He pulled her hair roughly, and the sting of her scalp combined with his creamy cock was enough to tip her over the edge.

She trembled on his length, nails digging into his skin as she moaned his name like a mantra. His orgasm followed hers in a few seconds, unable to resist the clenching and pulsing of her warm pussy.

His hot cum painted her walls white, prompting them to moan louder as they kissed. The feeling of his cum deep inside her was like nothing else.

“My baby, so good for me.” He held her against his chest, as he pressed kisses to her face.

Sweat adorned their bodies and the smell of sex filled the room. He rubbed soothing patterns on her back before whispering to remind her of the bubble bath they had to take.

She simply replied by leaving a peck on his lips and moving herself again on his sensitive cock.

An insatiable little devil. ——————————————————

Taglist: @prettythingsworld-blog @slut4marvelmenn @cherrycokeslay @wandas-lawyer @tbsloneely @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @missmielyhoran @harryssideboob @harrysficreblog @itslottiehere @hsonlyangelxo @gem1712 @adachhi @tpwkkkkk @hrryberry @summertime-pills @lhhrryismyhome @marzhshaim @harrystylessslut @keepdrivingkisses @rideeonstyles @matildasatellite @a-strange-familiar @greivingfortheliving @babyyangel111 @soblavk @straightnogayhs @awesomenavy @infinatetatie @be-with-me-so-happily @harrysrockstarsgf @cherrys4suckers @straightontilmornin @stilesissaved

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sushirrrry · 7 days

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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

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jarofstyles · 6 days

Text

Take Me Higher

Happy 4/20 my lovelies. I just whipped this up quickly so I hope you guys enjoy it 🫣

Check out our Patreon for early access and 160+ exclusive writings!

Send requests here

WC- 2.5k

Warnings- use of marijuana, high users, switch!H, choking, cum play, etc

Picture is not mine, credits to owner

————-

The smoke had cleared out of the room but it was a bit cold still from the chill of the night. It wasn’t quite warm enough to be spring in her humble opinion, but she’d take what she could get. Plus, Harry had brought her some food stuff for them and she was feeling the effects kicking in as she felt a weight settle on her body. Her eyes were hooded and she was a little giggly as his scent engulfed her, vanilla and tobacco more prominent than the smell she tried to keep from her place.

“Mm… you’re warm.” A cool nose brushed her throat, making her shiver as the man crawled up her body and rested himself on top of her. Harry always got like this when they smoked, but it seemed even more prominent today.

“And you’re a needy little thing.” Fingers carded through his hair, knocking the beanie off his head as he buried his face in her neck. There was no real response except a whine, breath warm on her skin as he tried to warm himself up. The window had to be opened so they’d not get any real complaints from their flat, but luckily they were sure her neighbor wasn’t home today.

Comfortable silence made her melt further into the sofa, the playlist on low as her eyes fluttered shut and she busied herself with playing with his hair. He’d been a good smoking buddy for a while, but she knew why he really came over. It was only a matter of time.

A large hand slipped under her body, wiggling itself under her top to feel the hot expanse of her back. He couldn’t get close enough, needy little thing, and Y/N was fully enjoying being clung to. Physical touch always made the high even better, but that’s just her opinion. Or maybe it was physical touch was better when high? She didn’t know. Her brain didn’t want to analyze that right this second.

“Did you sleep last night? Tired?” Her voice was soft as she didn’t want to disturb the vibe, twirling a curl around her fingertips.

“No.” He shook his head, seeming like he was trying to get into her skin. “Jus’ want to get close to you. You’re warm and you smell fuckin’ incredible.” His voice was a little bit more hoarse, but that was to be expected. “You’re my favorite person... To smoke with.” He added on to the thought hurriedly but she wasn’t going to call him out on it. Fingers trailed down her spine, making her shudder a little.

“Hm, is that because I let you eat my pussy?” She smirked, feeling him pull his head form her neck with a glare. Sex with him was fantastic. Maybe it was because they were usually blazed when they did it and they both felt the sensitivity that went with it along with a more intense orgasm. He was the only one who could match her drive when she was like this, so he’d easily become a favorite person of her. Though she had a feeling that he’d do it just as well without the smoking bit, that would be something to unpack at a later date.

“Hey… don’t make me sound like a lecher.” He pouted, sending her heart to beat a bit harder. One thing she’d give the man was that he was adorable. “Not the only reason. I love doin’ that but… you have the best snacks n’you let me talk about anything. Your cunt is just a bonus… though I really do love it.” Harry wasn’t usually super shy, but sometimes he got a bit bashful when it came to Y/N. There was a slight hesitation as he let their noses brush, ghosting his lips over hers. “Can I?”

“So sweet for asking.” Y/N cooed, smiling n at his request. He wanted to kiss her. She could taste how bad he wanted it when the high had hit him, but now he wasn’t able to hold back much. “Go ahead, pretty boy. Since you seem to like it so much.”

Harry was a little messy with it, smearing their lips together and grazing his teeth over her bottom lip. There wasn’t much to hide his desperation as he adjusted himself on top of her, pulling one of her legs to wrap around his hip. “I do.” He breathed before licking into her mouth. Her lips were so sweet and soft, tasting like the cola she’d drank and mint chapstick. His favorite thing. Pulling apart with a soft clicking sound, he let out a groan as he looked down at her. Her bun was all messed up with some flyaways, lips wet and eyes hazy. His favorite sight. Seeing he undone when usually she was so put together, knowing he’d been the one to get to see her like this… it did things to his “I really fucking do.”

Y/N whimpered as he devoured her. His tongue hot in her mouth and his hand gripping her thigh to keep her close, she couldn’t help but grow hot when she felt him against her. It wasn’t the first, nor would it be the last, but it still surprised her every time. How had she ever fit that inside of her? Tightening her legs around his hips, she heard the hitch in his breathing before he pulled away from her lips to groan. It gave her a chance to pull her shirt off her body, exposing her tits to him.

Harry nearly whimpered at the sight of them, pressing a bruising kiss to her lips before making his way down. “Fuck, the things you do t’me.” He whispered, moving closer to her breasts. “Can I kiss on them a bit, pretty? It’ll feel good.” He pleaded, sighing against the skin as she nodded at the request.

Sponging kisses all over the swells, he gently rocked his hips into hers to relieve a bit of the ache. His cock was thick and throbbing, desperate for some relief. The hear of her cunt could he felt through her panties, making Harry thank whatever higher power that she’d chosen the big shirt no pants combination today. “Gorgeous. You’re so pretty, all over.” He praised, puckering his lips over a nipple for a kiss. She shivered under him, her grip in his hair getting fuller as he brought it into his mouth.

Y/N sighed in pleasure as his hot mouth suckled on her. She’d loved when he did this last time, licking over her tits while he was inside of her. He was still clothed this time but somehow that was just as hot to her. Panties were ruined regardless, but she arched her back slightly as he took more of her breast into his mouth and rolled his tongue around the nipple. “Oh, shit.” The girl whimpered, rocking her hips in return. The stimulation made her head cloudy, or maybe it was the blunt, but she didn’t really care. It all felt so fucking good, it didn’t matter. “Harry… you’re so nice t’me.” She sighed, watching him pull off with a soft ‘pop’.

“I know, sweetheart. It’s what you deserve, yeah? So nice to me too…” he sighed into her chest, placing wet kisses to the skin that glistened in the light, leaving cool spots once he left. “Let me come over and smoke, let me eat your snacks, kiss your pretty mouth… let me taste you, sometimes let me feel that perfect little pussy wrapped around me… have t’be nice to my girl.”

She didn’t have a chance to answer before he repeated the process with her other nipple, making her pant. The grinding was getting harder, her breathing matching it as he rubbed over her clit in the motions. Back and forth, sweet relief as she spread herself out further and clutched his head to her breast as he worshiped them. “Fuck me, keep going like that and M’gonna cum.” She warned him, though she had no real want of him stopping.

“So cum.” He mumbled into her skin. “Won’t be the last time you do it tonight.” And oh- oh. He sounded so self assured and cocky and it did something to her, a zap of electricity to her tummy as she moaned into the air, clinging to him.

His back was firm under her hands, not stopping herself from sliding them unde this tee shirt. His skin was burning under her palms as she dragged her nails lightly down his shoulder blades. “Harder.” He instructed, rutting into her with more force. “Scratch me. S’okay.” He couldn’t help connecting their mouths again, fingers digging into the flesh of her thigh as it clung to him.

She did as asked, surprising her when he let out a deeper groan than she’d heard before. His hips quickened, sure his gray sweats were ruined but uncaring about anything else. “Gonna make me cum in my joggers.” He panted against her lips, unable to keep himself from touching her. His mouth was a magnet to her body, his cock throbbing and balls feeling exceptionally full as he dry fucked her.

“Mm… here.” She momentarily reached between them and tugged them down far enough that he was out of them. “Cum on my panties.” Her voice rang into his ears. “Already ruined them. Can’t you feel how wet you made me?” And fuck, could he.

Without the sweats in the way he could feel her soaked through panties wetting his prick, the heat of her through the barely there fabric making him insane. Though the real thing that got him was her request. “You really want that?” He questioned, buttoning their lips together for a moment because he simply couldn’t help it. “You want t’be sticky with my load all over your panties and your skin? I’ve got so much for you…” he wasn’t joking either. It had been a bit since they’d hung out and his hand didn’t do him as much justice as she could. His dick desperately missed her.

“You know I don’t mind a mess, Harry.” She purred, moving a hand to wrap around his throat. “And you’ll be a good boy and lick it off my skin, won’t you? Then you’ll lick my pretty pussy until you’re ready to fuck me. Because you’re always such a good boy for me…”

Oh, fuck. Harry whimpered at the feeling of her hand around his throat, the drop of his guilty pleasure nickname, immediately feeling the shift. He was determined to please her before, but this tone of voice and her slight overtaking made him a bit pathetic. “Yes- yeah, M’gonna do it.” He promised, adjusting them slightly so he tip could brush right over her clit. “Anything you want. Want t’make you feel so good. M’good for you.” He nodded, messily kissing her again as he quickened the pace of his thrusts.

Y/N hummed in pleasure as he got them to the right position. His hard cock rutting against her like the fabric wasn’t even there, thick and hot. She loved feeling him, knowing she’d done that to him. Her stomach tightened as she felt the perfect thrust from him, gasping into his mouth. “Oh- yes, like that. Keep it light that, baby.” She pleaded, mouth falling open as he repeated it. “Mhm… there. Gonna cum.” She had been worked up for a little bit now but feeling his need to please her helped her get there.

“Please, please do it. Want you to cum, want you to feel so good… you’re so perfect, please cum for me. Give it to me, fuckin’ goddess….” He spoke to her like he needed her orgasm to breathe. Whimpery and needy and unlike how he usually sounded, but with his perfect angle and the friction against her clit combined with that, she was pushed over the edge.

“Yes- yes, fuck me.” Head falling further back into the cushions, she dug her nails into his back with one hand while the other tightened on his throat. Sparks igniting her nerves and her legs held on to him like a lifeline as she came. Harry never knew a prettier sight in his life than how she looked when he made her orgasm.

“Give me it too, H. Make me a sticky mess so you can clean me.” She gasped out. “You’ve been so good, I know you can give me what I want. Please?” Her voice shook slightly. “Give me what I want.” Giving just the slightest bit more pressure to the fingers on the sides of his throat, she knew exactly how much to press to make him lightheaded. Choking was a weakness of his, something that made him cum embarrassingly fast a lot of the time, but this time he was grateful as he let out a sob. His prick was slick with her and aching to release but he tried to hold back for her sake. With the mix of the high being at its height, the sensitivity overwhelming him and how she knew exactly how to touch him- The moment she called him a good boy and gave him the head rush he needed, he was a fucking goner.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum, M’gonna cum-“ he babbled her name as he found his release. Jerking against her, hot ribbons of the pearly cum shot against the covered cunt and over her tummy. His balls pulsed as he unloaded on her, smearing it over himself and her as his hips sloppily worked him through the orgasm. Face slack in rapture, he let out a hoarse groan as the last of it spilled from his tip, hips jerking a few times before he felt her hand fall and his mouth descended on hers again.

“You’re gonna be the end of me, hm?” He slurred, biting her lip with a hum before he lowered his body onto hers. His prick was sensitive but he made no move to pull back, pecking her over and over again as she caressed his cheek with her choking hand. Y/N was by far the best at it regardless, intuition leading her to know exactly what he liked. “Feel like m’fucking floating. Dunno if it’s the high or your cunt.” He snickered, feeling her return the laugh.

“Probably a mix of both.” She smiled, giving him a few kisses of her own. “But we’ve got plenty to keep it going for a while. Are you up for it, pretty boy?” The girl had no plans but to be blazed and fucked for the rest of the night, and she hoped he was on the same page.

“M’up for anything, you fuckin’ goddess.” He mumbled as he sat up on his knees to look at the mess they’d made. It was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen, her cunt and little thatch of hair visible through the now transparent fabric and splattered with cum on the ruined panties and her tummy. It made his mouth water just looking at it. “Jesus… look at this.” He mumbled, spreading her further open with his hand. “Seems like I’ve got a lot of work to do, don’t I?”

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stylesloveclub · 7 months

Text

Prose (part 1)

In which y/n's taking way too many units, and Harry's the graduate assistant for her Literature class.

+++

It’s a gloomy autumn day, the sun nowhere to be found, the sky cloudy and gray. Y/n stands in front of Dr. Richmond’s door, nervously pulling back her hair and righting the state of her sweater.

The wind outside was not forgiving today, blowing harsh and cold and whipping her hair all over like she was caught in the middle of a god damn tornado. She tucks any stray pieces behind her ears and pats her wind-stung cheeks – oh gosh, she probably looks a mess.

She should’ve worn something more professional, she thinks to herself as she tugs her skirt down. Maybe trousers and a blazer– or at least a pair of jeans. Not this stupid little black skirt that keeps riding up, halfway hidden underneath her cream-colored knitted sweater. It keeps riding up, no matter how firmly she keeps tugging it down, and she’s got a horrible inkling that she might’ve accidentally flashed her bum at the workers in the street while she was walking to campus today.

She looks down at her shoes, a pair of black mary janes, paired with some lacy white socks to decorate her ankles. They looked super cute when she put them on this morning – but now she’s worried that she looks like a kindergartener. Is she too old to be wearing frilly socks? They’re just so darn cute… but she doubts the sixty-something year old professor that’s on the other side of the door would think the same thing.

Wiping her sweaty palms on her skirt, she takes a deep breath. It’s now or never. She lifts her hand up to the door, and nervously brings her knuckles down to knock.

It took all of her confidence to come to Dr. Richmond’s office today. She’s not a huge fan of talking to professors outside of class – drafting emails to them literally sends her into a spiral of stress, and she always feels like she’s gonna shit her pants when she goes to office hours– but she has no choice but to come and directly talk to Dr. Richmond today. She’d sent him two emails already (both of them had taken her over two hours to send because she actually despises writing emails and is always nervous that she’s gonna make a typo, or call the professor the wrong name, or accidentally attach her sex tape ((even though she doesn’t have a sex tape?)), but he hadn’t responded to either of those emails and she needs a response from him ASAP.

The door opens before her knuckles even make contact with wood, a short stout man walking out of the office with his briefcase in hand. He’s balding, with only a thin circle of gray hair lining the back perimeter of his head, and a pair of classes sit on his large, oily nose. Y/n stumbles, her eyes widening as she embarrassingly lowers her knuckles from the door and takes a startled step backwards.

“Oh– um, Dr. Richmond?” she stammers nervously, her voice at a much higher pitch than usual. She’d love to stick a pore strip on his nose and unclog all those blackheads.

“That’s me,” he grumbles, sighing heavily, not even looking at her. He’s the head of the English Language and Literature department, a busy man surely. Students probably pester him every hour of every day. Still, she wishes that maybe she could’ve gotten a more… enthusiastic response from him.

“Hi, sir,” she says, swallowing thickly. “I-I was having some issues with enrolling in your English 270 lecture and– um,” she’s starting to lose confidence as Dr. Richmond blatantly ignores her, rummaging through his briefcase for his keys. “I was… wondering if you had a second to, um, discuss it?” Her voice quietly fades towards the end, not sure if Dr. Richmond was even listening at that point– as he’d taken out his phone and started replying to a text while she had still been talking.

He takes a solid five seconds to type out and send his text before responding to y/n. “Take it up with Harry,” he mumbles, still not looking at her. “M’done for the day.”

“Harry?” she repeats, her voice confused and eyebrows pinching together. But Dr. Richmond’s already walking away from her, halfway down the hall. “Oh,” she mumbles to herself sadly, lips pouting. All that, for nothing. He literally just walked away from her.

She sighs heavily, ready to turn on her heel and walk back to her apartment from this failed mission – but then a voice sounds from inside the office. "In here!" it calls out.

She peaks her head inside timidly.

Behind the desk sits a boy, with chocolate brown curls swirled atop his head. “Hello,” he hums, putting the essay he’d been reading down on the desk and looking at her with all his attention. There’s a soft smile on his pretty pink lips, twisted to the side with a dimple poking at his cheek. His eyes are green and glimmer kindly, framed by a pair of dark tortoise shell glasses. “How can I help you?”

This man is much more attractive than grumpy old (and oily) Dr. Richmond.

Y/n struggles to find her voice. “Are you… um, are you Harry?” Her eyes flicker all over this attractive young man’s face, trying to figure out if this is a hallucination or if a boy that pretty actually exists in real life.

“Indeed I am,” he chirps, his chair squeaking as he leans forward. She briefly remembers seeing the name “Harry E. Styles” listed as the graduate teaching assistant, underneath Dr. Richmond’s name on the course website, and is finally connecting the dots. He’s dressed in a white button up, the top few buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to reveal tattooed forearms and an anchor on his wrist. His fingers tap against the desk rhythmically, and she finds her eyes drawn to the glittery rings decorating them. Her mind goes blank.

It’s clear that he’s a few years older than herself – but not in a bad way. He just looks taller and broader and… smarter than most of the boys her own age. He has just the slightest bit of stubble on his upper lip, and his eyes just shine with wisdom and intellect.

“Did you have a question?” he asks, voice a little teasing as he jolts her out of her little trance. She tucks her hair behind her ear, embarrassed, and quickly averts her eyes from his hands.

“Yeah, um– Dr. Richmond said you’d be able to help me with my enrollment issues?”

“Sure,” he crosses one leg over the other (y/n definitely notices the way his meaty thighs bulge) and leans back in his seat, hands folded neatly on his knee, “What’s up?”

“Well, I wanted to enroll in English 270, the Romantic Literature and Society lecture–” Harry nods attentively, “ –but the class is restricted to students in the Department of English Literature… which I’m not.” His eyebrows furrow hesitatingly, and she’s quick to defend herself. “I’ve taken all the prerequisites, though! I did well in all of them, and I emailed the department coordinator and they said that it’s fine for me to enroll in this class. It would just be a manual enrollment instead of the standard enrollment but they’ve done it for me for all the other literature classes I’ve taken that were also major restricted. All I need is a permission code and the professor's approval!” She pauses, taking a breath after her big ramble. “Or your approval, I suppose,” she adds as an afterthought.

He’s silent for a bit, sitting there with furrowed brows and pursed lips, just staring at her. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, squirming under his intense gaze.

Finally he asks, “What do you study then? If not literature?”

“Um– I’m a psych major.”

“And… why would a psychology major need to take an upper division literature class?” he presses. Not trying to be rude, but just to understand.

“Oh. I just… really enjoy books,” she says shyly. “It’s not for any credit toward my major. But I promise that I’ll stay on top of the work and participate and all that!”

He leans his forearms on the desk. His eyes are thoughtful, and he takes his time before speaking. “Your name was…?” he trails off.

“Y/n,” she fills in quickly. He nods.

“Miss y/n,” he sits up straighter, and looks her in the eye, “How many other units are you taking this semester?”

“Um…” she counts them off in her head. “16?”

“So with this class you’d be at 20?” he confirms.

She nods, nervously chewing on the inside of her cheek. That is a lot of units. The last time she took 20 units she had a mental breakdown so intense that she spent an entire night just crying to her roommate (Iris), incapable of doing any work or studying because she was just so stressed out and overwhelmed. She had to skip classes just to catch up on the work that she’d fallen behind on for her other classes, and found her weekends swamped with essays and studying and missed assignments. She only just barely survived, and as soon as finals week was over, she literally collapsed with exhaustion, her body and brain so burnt out that she was sick for weeks. She’d promised herself that she’d never do it again… and yet here she is not even two semesters later.

She can already imagine how stressful this semester is going to be.

“You understand, miss y/n, that this is not an easy class?” He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and somehow it’s attractive. “We have weekly readings and essays and discussions, and the final paper is not a matter to be taken lightly. You truly believe you can manage that on top of all your other classes?”

She gulps nervously, but timidly nods. He can tell that he’s laid it all on a bit harshly.

“I’m not trying to scare you,” he says softly. “I’m just trying to be… realistic. You seem to be a highly motivated student – and I admire that you’re pursuing topics that truly interest you – but I’d hate to see you burn yourself out.”

“I think I can handle it,” she says, quiet but confident. “It’s something I enjoy so it’s more like a hobby than a class. And I think it’ll be fun? I saw on the syllabus that we’d be analyzing Frankenstein, which is one of my favorites…”

His lips twist in a soft, endeared smile. He also loves Frankenstein.

“Very well then,” he murmurs, his eyes glimmering thoughtfully. “What was it you needed to get enrolled? A permission code? I think if you just give me your student ID number I can get that sorted out…”

+++

The weather today is better.

It’s still cloudy and gray outside, but the wind is much more forgiving, just a gentle breeze rustling through the trees. Orange and red leaves fall to the ground, crunching underneath y/n’s feet as she walks to class. They match the red sweater that she’s wearing today, soft and knitted with hidden tones of orange and brown woven between the threads. The colors of autumn, her favorite season.

A pair of wired headphones trail from her back pocket to her ears. She’s listening to her fall playlist, Lana Del Rey’s Season of the Witch setting the tempo of her walk to campus. In one hand she carries her book – The Secret History by Donna Tart – and in the other she carries her iced chai latte. Her fingers are freezing as she holds her iced drink, and a shiver crawls down her spine every time she takes a sip – but she doesn’t regret her drink order at all. She’ll have an iced chai in her hand no matter the weather.

Wanting to make a good impression on the first day of classes, she got up extra early today to get a head start. She washed her face so that she’d look extra bright and awake, ate a proper breakfast at her dining table instead of her usual banana-on-the-walk-to-class, and put on an outfit that she thought gave… studious. Her autumn sweater, dark blue denim jeans, and white sneakers. She even chose her book to match the academic vibe she was going for today (she was between The Secret History and Happy Place, and Happy Place just felt too summery for such a gloomy day… plus The Secret History has been on her TBR for way too long.).

She arrives at the lecture hall approximately… 20 minutes too early. But it was on purpose! She’s only taken a few classes in the literature building (most of her classes are in the social science buildings) and wanted to have enough time to find the room before class started. How horrible would it be for her to be late on the first day, when she’s desperate to make such a good impression on Harry? And Dr. Richmond, of course– but mostly Harry.

He was nice. And she wants him to like her. Ballad of a girl who craves academic validation.

The door to the lecture hall is locked, so y/n takes a seat on the floor right next to the door, and cracks her book open. She’s only 15 pages in, but she’s already enthralled. She can’t count how many times this novel has been recommended to her – always in those “best books to read in fall<3” tik toks, or the list of classics recommended by the New York Times – and she gets it. She zones in, her eyes flickering from one page to the next as her headphones softly play Rhiannon by Fleetwood Mac. She’s not one to usually listen to music while she reads (she usually finds it to be too distracting), but she’s so engrossed in this world and these characters that she barely remembers that she’s still listening to music. The people walking past her in the hallway fade away, the fluorescent lights transform into the dark library her book characters are currently huddled in, and no sound passes through her wired headphones – not even the heeled boots clicking against the tile floors, getting closer and closer to her.

She only realizes that she’s not alone when those brown boots stop right in front of her, shining brightly in contrast to her worn out sneakers. She looks up suddenly, yanking her headphones out of her ears. Harry towers over her, key in hand, which he sticks into the lock. A soft smirk twists at his lips, and his green eyes flicker to where she’s looking up at him from the floor.

“Miss y/n,” he says with a pleasant nod, a hint of amusement in his voice, “You’re here early.”

She folds the corner of the page she’s on and stands up, gently shutting her book. “I didn’t want to be late,” she responds, fussing with her stubborn headphones, which refuse to tuck into her back pocket. “I don’t have many classes in this building… didn’t want to get lost or anything on the first day.”

He opens the door and lets y/n in first, following in closely behind her. “Punctuality is good.” He props the door open.

She looks around the lecture hall. It’s not nearly as big as the classrooms she usually sits in for her psychology classes – those classes are huge, usually filled with a bunch of freshmen from all sorts of majors trying to fulfill their lower division GE requirements and whatnot. Those lecture halls could fit up to 400 people. This one probably wouldn’t fit more than 60.

Not a problem though, considering that this class only had about 40 students enrolled (she checked last night).

She wonders where she should sit. Too far in the back and she’d make the wrong first impression… but too close to the front and she might be the annoying kid that asks too many questions. Third row is her best bet.

There’s still about 15 minutes before the class is scheduled to start, and she’s still the only one in the lecture hall apart from Harry. She feels a bit awkward, being the person in the sea of seats, but Harry pays no mind to her, shuffling through papers and logging onto the computer at the front podium. Though her book sits opened on her lap, she can’t help but stare at him.

He’s wearing brown trousers, well fitted around his legs and cutting off perfectly at his ankles as if they were custom tailored for him. Cream colored socks adorn his ankles and those shiny, brown leather boots click against the floor with his every step. Very professional, but also casual with the way his white button up is rolled up at the sleeves and unbuttoned at the top. He’s missing those cute glasses today, though.

She watches as he struggles to turn the projector on, his eyebrows furrowed as he presses all the buttons on the panel. The lights in the classroom turn on and off again, and the computer audio mutes and unmutes before he finally figures out how to get the screen to roll down and the projector to flicker on. Despite him being only a few years older, he looks like an old man toggling with the buttons and trying to get technology to work in his favor. She bites back a smile, and quickly looks down to her book when Harry’s eyes briefly flicker to hers. From her peripheral vision, she can see him laughing as well and shaking his head at himself.

She traces her fingers over the pages of the book, clearly well loved and worn out. She got it from the library just last week, after having been on the waitlist for the book for the past month. She can see why it’s so popular though, already so engrossed by the plot. The pages are old and yellow, the edges folded and ripped with years of use, and it has that old book smell that she just adores. How old is this book? It was published in the 90’s, wasn’t it?

Harry’s voice interrupts her thoughts. “Reading something good?”

She looks up at him with wide eyes. He’s managed to successfully display the course syllabus on the projector screen, and is now walking around the desk with a stack of papers in his hand. He stands in front of the very first row, leaning his weight onto one leg with a hand in his pocket.

“Oh, um–” she falters, “I actually just started it. I’ve heard it’s supposed to be really good.” She sits up straighter in her seat, “Have you heard of it? The Secret History?”

Harry purses his lips, “Sounds familiar… haven’t read it though. You’ll have to tell me if it’s worth reading, alright?”

She nods, smiling shyly. Call her delusional but… it feels like a bit of an honor for him to trust her with a book recommendation. That takes a lot of trust, doesn’t it? To trust that someone will recommend a good book to you?

She’s totally making a big deal out of nothing. She does that sometimes.

“How about you?” she asks, her voice embarrassingly quiet. She’s shy, and nervous, and she’s not that good at small talk, and Harry is looking at her with these intense, green eyes that make her feel like she’s saying the most important thing in the world. She clears her throat, forcing her voice to not come out scared and shaky, “Read anything good lately?”

He grins, and she can tell this is probably his favorite thing to talk about. “M’reading, like, five books at once,” he admits sheepishly. “Kafka on the Shore, if you’ve heard of it… Notes from Underground, by Dostoevsky for one of m’own classes…” he purses his lips in thought, “Started re-reading Paradise Lost as well. We’re analyzing it in one of the other classes im TA-ing, n’ it’s one of my favorites to teach,” he says with a shrug. His eyes are so thoughtful as he lists off the books that he’s reading, flickering green and gold. He’s just… beautiful.

“I haven’t read any of them,” y/n says regretfully, wishing that she could impress him with some sort of intellectual talk about one of these books. “I’ve had Kafka on the Shore on my list for a while, though.”

He smiles. “S’a good one.” There’s a dimple in his left cheek that pinches cutely, the glimmer in his eyes a sight to behold. His pretty pink lips purse thoughtfully, his heart shaped cupid's bow twitching as though he has more to say – but then another student walks in.

Harry’s head whips around. His jawline is sharp, and he nods politely at the new student. “Good morning,” he murmurs to the girl – that same welcoming voice that had made y/n’s heart flutter that first day that she met him.

He turns back to y/n, and hands her a paper from the stack in his hands. “The syllabus,” he says, his eyes kind and warm.

She swallows thickly as he walks away from her, enamored already.

+++

“Classes will be Tuesdays and Thursdays,” Dr. Richmond lectures from the front of the class. His voice is croaky and old, so he has a tiny microphone clipped to his shirt pocket to project his voice to the back of the class – despite the small size of the lecture hall. “Thursdays I’ll lead the class,” he drones on, “We’ll analyze the romantic era… how their literature was a reflection of their politics… how they set the foundation of modern day consumerism, capitalism, patriarchy, globalism, imperialism…” he waves his hand passively. “The works.”

He takes a long sip of water, and his swallow echoes through the class, amplified by his shirt microphone. Y/n cringes at the wet mouth sounds as he smacks his lips together.

“On Tuesday’s–” his voice booms through the microphone again, “you will come to a class discussion led by Harry. This means that you’ll have the entire weekend to do the readings…”

Nearly all the eyes in the room flicker to Harry, who’s been standing quietly in the corner with his hands folded behind his back while Dr. Richmond continues to lecture. He gives a small, almost bashful wave to the class at the mention of his name, his eyes scanning the room of unfamiliar faces. Their eyes meet, and his lips twist into a smile. This is the third time she’s caught his eye during the lecture.

He stares at her for a second, eyes glinting as if the two of them have a secret that they’re not sharing with the rest of the class. It makes her heart race in her chest, smiling back at him secretly.

She breaks their eye contact when Dr. Richmond croaks out with the last of his voice, “Any questions?”

He’s met with silence.

“No? Okay good, class dismissed. See you all on Thursday.”

The class bustles with life, backpacks zipping and pull out desks squeaking as everyone slowly trickles out of the room. A line forms in front of Dr. Richmond’s podium, with students eagerly introducing themselves and asking questions about the syllabus, only to be redirected to the back of the new line forming in front of Harry’s corner. Harry smiles kindly at every question and speaks with eloquence, strikingly different to Dr. Richmond’s grumbling and groaning.

It’s glaringly obvious that Harry is going to be a class favorite.

In the middle of answering a redheaded boy’s question, his gaze wanders over to y/n, watching her as she packs up her things, eyes following her to the door. She tucks her book under her arm and plugs her headphones into her ear, throwing her bag over her shoulder.

Her drink is finished, just a cup full of melting ice at this point, so she stops at the trash can right at the front of the door. As she throws it away, she manages one final glance back at Harry. He’s already looking at her. He grins when their eyes meet, and gives a small wave goodbye.

She bites back a smile, then hurries out of the classroom before he gets the chance to see her giddy eyes and heating cheeks.

+++

Y/n honestly doesn’t love going to office hours.

It’s hard, because on one hand, she knows that she should go to them and form a relationship with her professors so that they can write her letters of rec in the future… but on the other, they’re so crowded and awkward! Every other student is there for the same reason as her, going into office hours to ask their silly questions and try to butter up the professor. There are usually at least a dozen college students in there, waiting for their one second interaction with the professor before they all get kicked out at the end of the hour. It’s annoying and a waste of her time. Plus, she doubts Dr. Richmond is all that into getting buttered up

That’s why she chooses to go to TA office hours instead. Usually much more quiet and much more intimate. Not that many people like to go to TA office hours for some reason, which means she usually gets to have one-on-one help. And sometimes (if the TA is really cool) they’ll basically give her the answers to the homework – a good thing, right?

Well… not when the TA is this ridiculously attractive and charming boy with curly brown hair and pretty green eyes that she can’t help but have a teensy little crush on.

Like… can you blame her? He’s smart and handsome, and so incredibly kind and sweet. His eyes glimmer when he talks about his favorite books and his lips are always curled into a smile that makes her heart bubble. Always so polite and respectful, doing gentlemanly things while his boyish dimples pinch his cheeks. His voice is slow and sultry like smooth honey – and you can just tell that his mind is a beautiful place just from the way he talks.

He’s just… endearing. Straight out of some romance book– and y/n loves romance!!! She can’t help but have a little bit of a heart flutter when she sees him standing in the corner of the lecture hall, especially when their eyes meet and he smiles at her cutely.

He’s just being nice – she knows that, and she is well aware that she’s very delusional and that nothing is going to happen… but still, the prospect of going to his office hours and potentially having a one-on-one conversation with him makes her giddy and nervous at the same time.

She pulls herself together and shakes away all the silly thoughts clouding her brain. Hoisting her bag up her shoulder, she enters the small office, the gold plaque reading Styles, H. shining proudly as she walks through the door.

Harry doesn’t hear her walk in, his brows furrowed behind his tortoise shell glasses. A red pen is in his hand, brutally attacking a freshman essay. He looks up, a tad bit startled, when she knocks on the door timidly.

The furrow in his brow immediately softens and turns into that familiar, kind smile. “Miss y/n,” his eyes shine like the nighttime sky filled with stars, “My first student of the day.”

“Oh,” she checks the time. “I thought office hours started like, thirty minutes ago. Was I wrong? Am I early?” She intentionally wanted to show up a little late, not wanting to seem too eager.

“No, no – you were right,” he hums, putting his pen down. “Not many students tend to show up to our office hours, is all. Especially not during the first week.”

She bites on the inside of her lip and wonders if she should be embarrassed for being the only one to show up, but Harry is quick to continue,“I wish more people did come, though. Like– if nobody shows up, all I do is sit here and grade for an hour.” His lips purse out cutely, a thoughtful pout, “And I hate grading.”

“Oh– I’ll probably be here a lot,” y/n says mindlessly. “I always have questions. And Dr. Richmond kinda scares me.”

Harry sputters out a laugh, and y/n’s cheeks heat up. Maybe that was inappropriate to say. But then Harry leans in and whispers, “He scares me too, sometimes.”

It’s these charming little moments that make him so endearing. She tries not to get too distracted by his dimples and how his fingers tap delicately against his thigh, hugged deliciously by another pair of well fitting trousers.

“Um– if it’s not a bother, I was wondering if I could ask about the first assignment? I was kind of confused about what's expected from us for the free-write thing…”

“M’all yours,” Harry murmurs, gesturing to the seat across from his desk.

+++

Y/n’s fatal flaw is thinking that she can beat a rainstorm.

She actively knew there was an 80% chance of rain today. She saw the rainy streets. She heard the weather forecast. But did she bring an umbrella with herself to campus?

No.

Somehow she rationalized in her brain that she didn’t need it. It was barely sprinkling when she walked out of her apartment, and the walk to class was only like 15 minutes! She’d make it to campus and then she’d be indoors all day and by the time she needed to go home the rain would probably have died down, and everything would be fine.

Oh how wrong she was. Silly girl.

The rain is pounding down on her right now. Big fat raindrops soaking through her hoodie and turning her light wash denim jeans into a completely new color. She has many regrets. What had started off as a cute little walk in the rain has turned into her running through a fucking monsoon or something. The slight, gentle drizzle had escalated to pouring rain in a matter of seconds. She had left her apartment with her earbuds playing Kiss Me by Sixpence None the Richer, romanticizing her little stroll in the rain – but now her wire headphones are barely hanging on as half-speedwalks/ half-runs down the sidewalk with her head down.

When she gets stuck at a crosswalk on a busy street, she glances frantically to her left and right, trying to find a tree or a building to take shelter under. But the sky is wide and open, no roof or canopy for her to hide under. She stands helplessly, the rain pouring down on her. The only thing she can do is pull her hood up and grip it tightly so that the rain doesn’t get in her face.

The rain pierces through her clothes, and the wind feels extra cold against her wet jeans. Thank god she at least wore rainboots today, she thinks to herself as she stares down at the ground. This would suck even more if her socks were getting wet. She had thought far ahead enough to anticipate the possibility of puddles – and yet still didn’t imagine the need for an umbrella. The hems of her pants are soaked and feel horrible against her ankles, and she knows for a fact that she’s gonna have to let her hoodie air dry or something during Dr. Richmond’s lecture. Ugh. She hopes the lecture hall is warmer than it is out here.

She readjusts her headphones, pushing the earbuds further into her ear after they nearly fell out whilst she was running here. She likes this song, and it’s kind of romantic to be listening to it in the rain (it would be even more romantic if she wasn’t SOAKED TO THE CORE). If there’s anything y/n will do, it’s romanticize the shit out of any situation.

Cars are driving past quickly, but she can’t hear them, her music loud enough to drown out their annoying engines. She stares at a nearby puddle, looking at how it ripples as each drop of rain splatters into it. She wonders if mother nature has a personal vendetta against her – if Earth had personally planned to make it rain super hard the minute that she stepped out of her apartment. Why does she always do this? This isn’t the first time she’s caught herself soaked because she was too lazy to bring an umbrella with herself – and it probably isn’t the last time either. She crosses her arms across her chest and hides her hands in her sleeves, hugging herself tightly as a feeble defense against the biting rain. Why won’t the stupid crosswalk turn on? Her slightly damp hair falls into her eyes as she looks back down at her boots, letting out an annoyed huff.

The shadow of a new person tickles her peripheral vision. They brought an umbrella. She scolds herself once more.

It takes her a second to realize that, although she can still see the rain drizzling around her, splattering against the ground and splashing onto her boots… she actually doesn’t feel the gentle patter of raindrops against the top of her head anymore. She looks up.

Somehow, she is now under the umbrella. And the person holding said umbrella… is Harry.

He looks gorgeous as usual, dressed in a dark blue trench coat, black trousers, and some sleek black boots with gold buckles on them. Standing to her left, he holds his umbrella up between them in a way that shields both of them from the rain. He stares forward innocently, pretending like everything is normal – like he hadn't just snuck up next to her and shared his umbrella with her. She can see a slight smile tugging on his lips though, and when she stares at him long enough, he peeks over at her with a glint shimmering in his pupils. His pretty pink lips curl into that sideways smile, and he says nothing.

Y/n can’t help but give a dumbstruck little laugh. Of course it would be Harry.

He winks at her, ever so charming and mischievous, then turns back to face the road. The crosswalk switches from Stop to Go, and Harry takes a step forward. Y/n follows in his stride.

They say nothing, and walk to their lecture shoulder to shoulder.

+++

“So,” Harry says with a clap, his voice loud and strong, “I hope you all got the chance to do the first chapter of our reading.” Unlike Dr. Richmond, Harry doesn’t need a microphone to project his voice to the back of the class. All eyes are staring at him, ears listening intently. And all the girls are staring at his pretty pink lips, and how they curl over each word (y/n included).

“I know life gets in the way, so if y’ever don’t get the chance to finish the assigned reading… tha’s okay,” he says with a quirk of his lips. “M’not gonna be mad. I just ask that you don’t let it turn into a habit, and y’don’t pretend like you read it. M’gonna know if you’re bullshitting me… so just don’t even try.” The entire class laughs, and Harry’s dimple pokes his cheek.

“So– be honest– how many of you guys read the first chapter?”

All the students raise their hands, and Harry nods approvingly, “Nice… very nice.” He’s a natural at the front of the classroom, entertaining and intellectual at the same time – confident and eloquent. His words are thoughtful and slow, but not one student seems to be bored by his slow drawl. No – instead everyone hangs onto his every word, dripping soft and thick like golden honey. He answers questions easily and plays off of student responses like a pro, and everyone seems keen on impressing him with fancy literature talk.

“You might have seen on our course page that I posted a series of discussion questions… I’ll try to have these up at least a week in advance so that you can have them in the back of your mind whilst you’re reading. I always find it to be particularly stimulating to be reading a novel with a question in mind… dunno, makes me feel sharper while I read. Does anyone else feel that way?” He talks to the class as if they’re all friends, mildly flirtatious in the natural, charming way that he is.

The group of undergraduates nod back at him, enthralled by his smile and his wit and just everything about him. God, his smile is just so charming. “Okay... how about we get started with the first one? Wait– actually, before that… I’m just wondering, have any of you already read Frankenstein before?”

Two students out of the forty raise their hands – a boy wearing a Bob Dylan t-shirt, and y/n.

Harry’s eyes meet y/n’s for the first time since they entered the classroom together. They’d walked across campus together in comfortable silence, past the campus Starbucks and the Social Science buildings, and when they got to the Literature department building Harry had held the door open for her, while shaking off the rain droplets from his umbrella. They walked through the halls side by side as well, Harry’s shiny boots clicking in time with the squeak of y/n’s wet sneakers against the tile floors. All he had said to her during the entirety of their walk was “After you,” when he’d opened the door for her.

Now he looks at her for the first time in what feels like ages, and gives her an approving nod. He already knew that, from that very first day when she’d come to his office, asking for permission codes and what not. She feels her heart fluttering excitedly, just from that single nod.

“Interesting… so it’s a first read for most of you. Brilliant! We’ll have a good time reading it together, I promise,” he says, his green eyes gleaming. “I love this book – it’s sometimes called the first science fiction book, written at a time where technology was first being introduced, and it’s regarded as one of the most famous novels of the Romantic era. Mary Shelly, the author, was a prominent Romantic era writer who shared the common Romantic appreciation for the natural world and how art can evoke emotions, which we can clearly see in her novel. We’ll take a few different approaches while analyzing it. Most prominently through a Romantic lens – but we’ll also do a feminist reading and religious reading, as well as a biographical approach… which brings us to the first discussion question – ‘Frankenstein is ultimately a novel about creation– a new and terrifying exploration of bringing life into the world. Based on what you read in the introduction, how can we see Mary Shelly’s personal experiences with life, birth, and death in the themes explored in Frankenstein?’” He looks up from the sheet of paper that he just read the question aloud from with bright eyes, “Anyone want to start us off?”

The class is silent, the crowd of students suddenly much quieter compared to when they’d been going back and forth with playful banter to Harry’s jokes. Everyone’s a little too nervous to be the first one to say anything, and nobody wants to say the wrong thing. Harry holds his breath, and searches for a hand to save them from this awkward bit of silence. This kind of shyness is normal for the first day of classes – in fact, he’d expected it – but it still doesn’t mean it’s any less awkward. His eyes flicker from one side of the class to the other, from the front row to the back.

He almost misses y/n’s hand, timidly raising from her set spot in the third row. Harry’s eyes light up. “Miss y/n,” he murmurs, “go ahead.”

“Well, in the introduction we learn that Mary Shelly had a few failed pregnancies before writing her novel, and that her own mother had passed during childbirth complications. Shelly goes on to depict the cycle of life as destructive… Frankenstein’s monster is this disfigured creature that the creator is running from, which we see right at the beginning. The introduction implies that this “horrifying” birth and the death of the creator at the hands of what it created, might be symbolic of her own experiences.”

“Excellent. That’s exactly right,” his smiles meet his eyes, and they twinkle, impressed. “The reason we have this as the first discussion question,” Harry turns back to the rest of the class, “is because I want you guys to keep it in mind while reading. Look for the ways Shelly describes birth – take note of the strained relationship she creates between the creator and his creation. Also, recall how Shelly herself proclaimed this book to be her “hideous progeny” – to use such intense language whilst also calling it her “progeny” holds a lot of implications of what Shelly’s view on Creation is – whether is biologically or creatively. This is something that we’ll discuss further in depth when we get farther into the novel, so I want you all to start thinking about it now.”

All the students in the room nod intently, writing down what Harry said word for word.

“Furthermore, has anyone noticed that we’ve already seen a lot of references to fire? Pretty obvious symbolism, right?” The class nods. “Does anyone know why she chose fire, specifically?”

It’s silent again. Y/n looks around herself to see if anyone else might have the answer, but everyone stares up at Harry blankly.

“Don’t be shy on me now, guys. Promise m’not mean,” Harry smiles, “Just wanna get the discussion flowing.”

Y/n shyly raises her hand again. “It’s a reference to Prometheus, who stole fire from the gods – she even alternatively calls her story The Modern Prometheus.”

His eyes glimmer, a shine behind his irises that doesn’t show up when he looks at his other students – just y/n. As hard as he tries not to pick favorites… he can’t help but harbor a little bit of favoritism towards her. “Very good, Miss y/n,” he praises with a soft smile.

Y/n’s cheeks turn hot and she ducks her head down, unable to stop the reciprocating smile from spreading on her face.

+++

“Miss y/n,” Harry calls out to her as the students file out of the classroom. “A word, please.”

Y/n hoists her bag over her shoulder and makes her way to the podium where he stands. He’s packing up his own things, his own beat up copy of Frankenstein being placed delicately in his bag, along with a stack of other papers and things that he has to grade. A few other students have approached him, asking questions that they were too shy to ask during class, but with a sly smile he tells them to ask their questions at his office hours (Thursdays at 5 – but y/n already knew that!). Her fingers twist nervously behind her back as she stands awkwardly by his side as the rest of the students ask their questions and trickle out.

He waits until all the students have left, and it’s just him and y/n standing by the podium, before he says anything to her.

“You were making some excellent points today in class,” he looks up at her briefly with a smirk, “I appreciate your participation. Class is always more difficult to lead when students don’t participate.”

“Oh,” she blinks. She’s never been thanked for participating in class. “Erm– yeah. I-I’m happy to participate.” She readjusts her bag, tugging it higher up her shoulders, “S’just kinda like a big book club if y’really think about it.”

“It is, isn’t it?” he agrees with a quirk of his lips. He zips up his bag, and pulls it over his own shoulder, “How are you planning on getting home?”

A strange follow up question, she thinks to herself. But she responds, nonetheless, “Oh, I was just gonna walk.” Harry peers out of the window, then looks back at y/n, his eyebrows raised. She follows his gaze, and realizes that it is still raining like crazy outside.

A heavy sigh escapes her lips without her permission. Of course. “I guess I’ll just wait it out,” she shrugs, walking towards the door alongside Harry.

He locks the door behind them, with her lingering closely by, waiting for him. “Do you live far?”

“No, not really. Just a 15 minute walk.” They walk towards the building exit, and Harry pulls out his umbrella. “Not too bad, as long as there isn’t a monsoon going on outside,” she finishes with a petulant grumble.

Harry chuckles lowly, his dimples shining brightly. “I was just going to offer… y’know, since it’s still raining and you’re umbrella-less…” his eyes twinkle teasingly, “I could drive you home? Wouldn’t want you to get soaked again when you’ve only just dried off.”

“Oh!” she bubbles, looking at him with wide eyes. “Really? You would do that?” He nods, but she presses, “Are you sure that wouldn’t be a hassle? I mean– like, really I could just stay here and read until the rain dies down–”

“S’not a hassle,” he reassures. “Y’don’t even know when the rain will be gone– could be all night. It’ll be cold, n’dark… it’d make me feel better knowing you got home safe, yeah?”

“Gosh that’s… that’s really nice of you,” she says, almost pouting.

He just smiles, pushing the door open and opening his umbrella for the two of them to huddle under. His car is parked in the graduate student parking lot, so it’s not too far of a walk (although they’re doing more of a brisk speedwalk, trying to get out of the rain and wind as fast as possible). The rain patters harshly on top of his umbrella, but they manage to stay dry, shoulders brushing together and their warm bodies radiating heat onto each other.

He unlocks his car and opens the passenger's seat for her, making sure that she’s covered from the rain as she slides into her seat. He then runs over to his own side, quickly shutting his umbrella and throwing it into the backseat. His fingers are numb as he turns the car on, and he immediately blasts the heat for the two of them, putting his frozen fingers in front of the warm air. “God, not even three minutes out there n’ I’m already freezing m’bits off,” he mumbles to himself. He turns to her, and smiles when he sees her copying his actions, “Isn’t this so much better that walking home?”

All she can give is a nod, wriggling her fingers in front of his heaters. Her teeth are chattering as she barely manages to chatter out, “S’freezing.”

“Wind would’ve blown you away before you even made it home, I reckon.” He plays with the windshield wipers until they’re on the highest setting, but even then his windshield is blurry from the rain. He makes sure to drive extra slow and cautiously, reversing out at the speed of a snail and turning his high beams on.

It’s only when she’s sitting in the front seat of his car that a somewhat important thought floats to the forefront of her mind – “is this allowed?”

“Is what allowed?” He's half paying attention, half checking both sides of the road before turning left onto the street.

“Like– I mean you’re sort of my professor, I guess,” she stumbles over her words, “Is it… would you get in trouble? For like… giving me a ride?”

Harry’s eyebrows pinch thoughtfully, “Well, first of all– Dr. Richmond’s your professor, not me. Secondly– I don’t see why it would be against the rules. S’just a car ride,” he shrugs.

She relaxes in her seat, nodding. She supposes he’s right. It’s just a car ride.

“But– if anything,” he adds on with, turning to her momentarily with a mischievous glint in his eye, “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Y/n’s lips curl. “Okay,” she giggles.

It’ll be their little secret.

+++

HOPE U GUYS LOVED IT!!!!!! part 2 is up on my patreon already, and will come to tumblr next saturday (oct 14) pleeeeaaaase lmk what u rhink and give her a rb and a comment i love u guys so so much!!! more tarry to come!

Prose (part 2) is already posted on patreon! : In which not many students attend Harry's office hours, and y/n's kind of burnt out

Prose Masterlist

#harry smut #harry fic #harry styles smut #harry #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry fanfic

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heartateasee · 12 days

Text

“Intraoffice”

ceo!harry x you

Word Count: 13k

Warnings: a handjob, some comeplay, fingering (f receiving), brief spitting and protected sex.

Plot: Your previous CEO was retiring, and Harry is taking his place. Neither of you were expecting each other to be so young, and after while, you begin to develop a flirty friendship within the workplace. One business trip causes all those feelings to come to fruition.

(I stumbled across this TikTok account the other night, and it caused me to spiral. So, this is the result of that 🤭 Big thank you to my bestie @finelinenina for giving me some ideas for this one as well 🫶🏻)

ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ

To say that you were going into work nervous today would be an understatement. Today was the day you were going to meet the new CEO of the company, and you were praying to whatever was above that he was kinder than the current CEO - your boss. It wasn’t that he was necessarily a mean man, Mr. Crawford, but he was older, and he liked for his assistant to not be seen or heard. He expected for you to get the job down silently, and while being invisible. It took you a little bit of time, but for the most part, you had your day down to where you and Mr. Crawford never crossed paths - something he very much appreciated.

His coffee was on his desk, as well as a print out of his meetings for the day before he even stepped foot into the office, and by the time he did, you were already behind your own desk working on other tasks. When lunchtime came, you had his lunch hot and ready, once again on his desk, before his late morning meeting finished. And then when it was time for his afternoon coffee, you snuck it into his office during his after lunch meeting.

The other assistants commented on how odd it was that Mr. Crawford made you arrange everything while he was out of his office, and you felt the same way, but it was just routine now. Hell, you had been doing it for the past four years since you were offered the position right after you had completed your internship. It was just normal now.

So this morning, you placed two cups of coffee on Mr. Crawford’s desk as you knew the replacement CEO would be with him, and you printed off two copies of the day's meetings since he would also be shadowing him all day. You didn’t really mind if the new CEO wanted you to be invisible as well, but you hoped that maybe you would start having a little bit of appreciation thrown your way instead of just being met with silence.

Just as you had turned on your heel, going to exit the office, you heard Mr. Crawford’s voice which caused your eyes to widen. He was earlier than usual today, and that caused your heart to race a bit. The last thing you needed was for him to scold you in front of your new boss.

“And just in here is where your office will be,” Mr. Crawford stepped into the doorway, and you stood there like a deer in headlights - fiddling with your fingers behind your back. “Oh, Y/N, I was hoping we’d catch you.”

You had to force off an expression of confusion at his words as you knew he was probably trying to make himself come off as a better boss. “Good morning, Mr. Crawford. I’ve just placed your coffees on the desk, as well as your schedules for the day.”

“Thank you,” he nodded at you before moving out of the way, and it was as if time stood still once the man behind him was revealed. “This is Mr. Harry Styles. He’s going to be your new boss as of Monday.”

He was young - way younger than you anticipated. With cropped curls and moss colored eyes, you truly found yourself in a bit of a trance looking at him. He had plush, pillowy looking lips with a nose that looked like it had been sculpted by the gods. Fuck, it was honestly as if every part of him had been sculpted by the gods.

“Mr. Styles, so nice to meet you,” you extended your hand to him. “I’m Y/N. I’m looking forward to working so closely together.”

Harry smiled at you, and once he took your hand, you immediately felt a warmth spreading all over your body. “Wonderful to meet you, Miss Y/N. Thank you for the coffee.”

You felt your face flush at his politeness before your hold dropped. “Of course, that’s what I’m here for,” you flicked your eyes between the two men before giving them a nod. “Well, Mr. Crawford, you know where to find me if you need me.”

As you went to leave the office, you could feel Harry’s eyes following you, and you peeked over your shoulder - confirming that he was indeed still staring. You subconsciously bit down on your bottom lip as you quickly looked away to avoid drawing attention from Mr. Crawford. Once you were back at your desk, you let out a deep breath as you stared at your computer screen.

Harry wasn’t at all what you were expecting, and little did you know that you weren’t what he was expecting either.

ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ

It had been a couple of weeks now that Harry had been your boss, and he honestly hadn’t seen or heard you much. Occasionally you would have to call into his office to let him know that he had a call, or he’d approach your desk if he needed to have a meeting rearranged, but other than that, the situation was very much like the one when you worked for Mr. Crawford.

This morning, however, Harry made it a point to get to the office almost ten minutes earlier than usual. He wanted to try to catch you, to see exactly why you had been avoiding him. He wasn’t really aware of the fact that this is how you did things previously considering Mr. Crawford seemed more than elated to have caught you during your initial introduction. He thought that maybe you didn’t like him, and if that was the case, he needed to make things right.

He greeted a few people as he walked through the lobby, heading towards his office where he hoped you’d either be, or he’d be able to already be there before you came in. As he got closer to his door, he could hear slight shuffling, and he quietly poked his head in to see you organizing his meeting schedule, while placing another stack of papers down beside it. He figured those were the contracts that had been finalized for him to sign. His coffee was still in your hand as you did this, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth in concentration.

“Good morn-”

Harry couldn’t finish his greeting as a scream left your lips, and you jumped, spilling his coffee all over the front of your dress. You gasped as the hot liquid seeped through the fabric, and the paper cup was quickly dropped to the ground as you tried to pull your dress away from your chest. Thankfully you were wearing one with a high neckline so you wouldn’t be exposing yourself, but the material was a cream color, something you normally knew better than to wear given how clumsy you were.

“Oh my god!” Harry exclaimed as he walked forward, and without even thinking, he wrapped his hands around your wrists, assisting you with pulling the fabric away from your skin. “Y/N, I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s okay,” you sucked in a deep breath as the burning sensation began to fade away, and you swallowed harshly. “It’s fine. I’m a klutz anyway. I’ll make sure to get you another coffee as soon as possible. Thank god it didn’t get on your documents.”

Harry’s eyebrows narrowed as you spoke, and he shook his head. “I could care less about the documents. I’m not worried about them or another coffee. How’s your chest? Did it burn your skin?”

Your eyes darted down to where only you could see the exposed skin from you dress still being pulled, and you shook your head. “It doesn’t look like it,” you dropped your hands, causing Harry’s to leave your wrists, and the damp dress clung to your abdomen once again.

“Please, take the morning to go home and change and to regather. I can’t tell you how sorry-”

“Oh, I won’t need to go home. I keep a spare change of clothes in my desk. Like I said,” you spoke as you lifted your hand above your head before pointing down at yourself. “Klutz.”

Harry couldn’t help but chuckle softly at your gesture, and he pursed his lips to the side. “Alright then, how about this? You go ahead and change, and then we’ll go out for some breakfast so I can make this up to you.”

“Breakfast? But you have a meeting at-”

“Reschedule it,” Harry said as he tucked his hands into his pockets. “We’re going to the diner down the street. You’re my new meeting.”

Your stomach formed a knot when you heard his words, and you finally found it within yourself to clamp your jaw shut. “Yes, Mr. Styles. I’ll just be a few minutes. I won’t keep you waiting long.”

“Y/N,” Harry stepped forward, and you looked up at him with round eyes. “You take all the time you need, okay? I’ll wait however long if it means you’ll feel comfortable again.”

Words escaped you at that point. This was your boss, and you had never had a man show this much concern over you before, not within the first couple weeks of knowing each other at least.

“Mhmm,” you hummed out a squeak before quickly leaving his office.

You made your way over to your desk to retrieve the extra black trousers, and the maroon colored jumper stashed away in your bottom drawer before making your way into the employee bathroom.

Pulling your stained dress up, you grimaced as it stuck to you slightly since it had just barely begun to dry. You grabbed some paper towels and ran them under the water for a few seconds before beginning to wipe over your chest, and some of your abdomen until you were rid of all the sticky substance.

You pulled on your clothes quickly, not wanting to make Harry wait too much longer, and you exited the bathroom.

Once Harry saw you back at your desk, he left his office as you made the phone call to reschedule his morning meeting to tomorrow instead since you knew he had an opening. You watched as he grabbed your dress from where you had it laying over the back of your chair- eyebrows narrowing as you saw him drape it over the crease of his arm.

You hung up the phone and placed the strap of your purse over your shoulder. “What are you doing with my dress?”

Harry smirked softly before tilting his head towards the elevators. “Ready to go?”

You nodded in response, and then the two of you were down and out of the building - heading down the street.

“Which diner did you want to go to? I can call ahead and make sure a table is ready,” you stated, fumbling to get your cell out of your purse.

“That’s not necessary, Y/N. If we have to wait, we’ll wait,” Harry shrugged as he started to guide you down a side street, and you began to look around.

“Mr. Styles, I’m not trying to overstep here, but I don’t think there’s a diner down this street.”

“I’m not heading for the diner right now,” he shook his head, and you only walked a few more paces before he was opening up a door to a shop.

He lifted his eyebrows in encouragement for you to step in first as he held the door open, and you did so. Harry followed close behind, and you watched as he approached the counter.

“I’ll need this garment dry cleaned, please,” you heard him state before he was handing your dress over to the elderly woman helping him. “Do you think it could be finished by tomorrow?”

“Oh, Harry, I’ll have it done for you by this evening,” the woman cooed, reaching across the counter to pinch one of his cheeks.

You watched him smile, his deep dimples denting into his skin as he left out a soft laugh. “You’re too good to me, Muriel. We’ll be back whenever you give me a call.”

At this point, you were floored. Not only was he so apologetic about the spill that he practically begged you to join him for breakfast, now he was getting your dress dry cleaned?

Once you stepped back out onto the street, you started back in the direction you came from.

“You really didn’t need to do that,” you told him as you pursed your lips to the side. “I could’ve just taken care of it at home.”

“Nonsense,” Harry said, glancing over at you for a moment as you crossed the street. “If I hadn’t startled you, the coffee wouldn’t have been spilled, therefore, I wanted to make it right.”

“I really need you to stop blaming yourself for that,” you laughed softly as you continued down the sidewalk - not realizing where you were stepping was a bit unlevel.

It caused your ankle to slightly roll, and you let out a yelp as you tripped. You braced yourself for impact with your lids shut tight, but instead you were met with a solid chest and an arm around your waist. You blinked your eyes open to see Harry looking down at you - his eyebrows up on his forehead.

“You weren’t joking when you said you were a klutz, were you?”

You felt your cheeks flush before shaking your head. “No, I wasn’t.”

You both shared a chuckle as you separated, and you were grateful to see that you were approaching a diner not too long after your stumble. The last thing you needed was to trip over another uneven sidewalk, or even worse, your own feet.

Just like before at the dry cleaners, Harry held the door open for you, and you immediately walked over to the host stand - a habit of yours to just do this on your own. Any time Mr. Crawford held a dinner at a restaurant, it had always been your responsibility to make sure they knew you were checking in for their reservation.

“Hello, we’d like a table for two please,” you greeted her with a smile, and watched as she gathered a couple menus before nodding her head for you to follow.

Looking over your shoulder, you saw Harry watching you intently, and you tried to swallow down the nerves starting to bubble in your chest. You had never seen someone look at you the way he did before. You weren’t sure if it was a good or a bad thing, to be honest, but all you knew was that it made you nervous.

The host set your menus down on the table of a booth, and you and Harry both slipped into the opposite benches. You tried your best to focus on narrowing down what you wanted, but this was an unusual circumstance. Never once were you asked by your boss to go to breakfast just the two of you, and as appreciative as you were that Harry had asked you, it was unfamiliar territory.

“Do you see something that you think you’d want?” Harry spoke up after a few minutes, and you flashed your eyes up to him over the top of your menu to see that his were already on you. “If not, we can go somewhere else.”

His need to make sure you were constantly comfortable was so foreign that you could hardly wrap your head around it. You realized it had been a few moments since he had asked his question, and you had remained silent. “Oh no,” you shook your head before clearing your throat. “This is perfect. I see a couple things that are peaking my interest actually.”

Harry smiled at you, and you felt a fluttering in your lower stomach. “Get whatever you’d like.”

It was only a few minutes later that a server came over to the table, and Harry ordered a carafe of coffee for the two of you, as well as two waters before extending his hand over to you - asking you silently to order your food first.

“I’ll take the breakfast sampler, please,” you stated, looking over everything that came on it so you didn’t miss any of the options. “I’ll take one sausage and one bacon with that, sunny side up eggs with white buttered toast and hashbrown casserole, please.”

Handing your menu off to the server, you turned your attention back to Harry. His eyes were darting over the laminated paper in his hand before he looked to the server. “You know what? I’ll do the same please, but instead of the sausage and bacon, could I have a bowl of fruit with that?”

The server nodded, taking Harry’s menu as well before walking away from the table.

“For a second I thought you were going to break your vegetarian status,” you said playfully as you leaned forward onto the table - intertwining your fingers together.

Harry mimicked your actions, and you caught sight of the cross tattoo on his hand. You knew he had another right along his wrist as you could see glimpses of the ink sometimes, but you always wanted to ask him if he had any others.

“As much as I do miss bacon, I’ve been going strong for too many years to break it now,” he smirked, and you were slowly feeling more comfortable with the one on one time together.

You weren’t a nervous individual by nature, to be honest, however, you did tend to be particularly quiet. You’re sure a lot of that had to do with the fact that’s what was asked of you for the past four years. Once conversation struck, and you were interested, you could hold a proper interaction.

“Didn’t mean to tempt you,” you giggled before biting down on your bottom lip.

Harry noticed that was something you must do subconsciously, but he found it alluring.

The server came back with your two waters, two mugs and the carafe of coffee - setting it all down on the table alongside sugar packets and cream. You and Harry both went to reach for the carafe, fingers brushing against each other, and you pulled your hand back quickly.

“Sorry,” you muttered, dropping your hands into your lap, but Harry held that coy half smile as he poured you each a cup of coffee.

“How do you take yours?” Harry asked, as he set the carafe towards the end of the table against the wall to have it out of the way.

“Two sugars and just a splash of cream, please.”

Your eyes were fixed on his every move as you watched him pour the contents into the mug before he pushed it over your way. He pulled his own mugs towards him - not putting anything in it, as always.

“Thank you,” both of your hands cupped the warm mug, and you fought off a hum at just how wonderful the heat felt against your palms.

The hustle and bustle of the diner blanketed over the two of you, and for a minute your attention was caught by just how quickly all the servers were moving around to make sure everything was getting taken care of in a timely manner.

“Y/N,” Harry saying your name caught your attention, and you looked back over to him. “Can I ask you a question?”

Your eyebrows furrowed before you gave him a nod. “Yeah, of course.”

“Have I done something to make you not like me?” Harry asked, tilting his head to the side.

Your eyes widened at his question, and you quickly shook your head. “No, not at all! Why would you think that?”

“Well, I never see you.”

You were caught so off guard. Him not seeing you made him think you didn’t like him? You thought you were doing him a favor by not being an interruption.

“Well, I just thought that maybe Mr. Crawford had talked to you before he left, and maybe you wanted me to keep doing things the way he liked,” you explained.

“Which was?”

It was then you realized that Mr. Crawford didn’t tell Harry at all about how he really didn’t want you being present around him. It was a bit shocking to you that he wouldn’t have mentioned that, considering a lot of businessmen had that preference, and it seemed to be a little hard to find assistants who would obey that rule so well.

“He didn’t really like seeing me,” you shrugged. “Or hearing me either. That’s why I always have your coffee, schedule and any documents you may need to take care of on your desk and ready to go before you’re there. It’s also why your lunch is delivered while you’re in your late morning meeting.”

An expression you really couldn’t make out rested on Harry’s face, and since he didn’t speak, you continued.

“If I had to run things to his house after work, I’d use my key to let myself in, drop off whatever he needed, and regardless of whether or not he or his wife were home, I would be in and out. It took a little while to get used to, but once I did, it was easy.”

You watched as Harry lifted a hand to run it through the front of his curls, and you forced yourself to look away from the flex of his bicep as he did so. “God, Y/N, I’m so sorry. I had no idea that’s how you had to do things when he was around. I can promise you that’s not how you have to be with me.”

Slipping your eyes shut, you couldn’t help but let out a small sigh of relief. “Oh, thank god,” you giggled before looking at him again. “It was easier with him because I had his routine down. I was guessing every day with you.”

Harry’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of your giggle. It was hard for him to believe someone couldn’t want you to work around them and do your job properly. From the little bits of you he had been able to see, you seemed like the perfect employee.

“So with that being said,” Harry started. “I’d like my morning cup of coffee after I’ve arrived at the office.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but Harry held up a finger to stop you. “And I’d like to prepare it myself in the kitchen with you, as you prepare your own. Then from there, we can go back to my office, and you can walk me through the meeting schedule for the day. You don’t have to worry about ordering me lunch anymore, I can take care of that myself.”

“What about your afternoon cup of coffee?” You blurted out, making Harry smile even wider than he already was.

“Can I be honest with you?” He waited for you to nod before proceeding. “I was only drinking about a quarter of it before dumping it out. Coffee that late in the day would keep me wired all night.”

“Mr. Styles,” you gasped, jaw dropping. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It seemed a bit impolite, you know? I felt bad that you had gone through the trouble of making it for me, and I didn’t want to just waste it. It also felt wrong to tell you to stop when I thought it was something you enjoyed doing for me.”

You wanted to respond again, but the server was back - placing the appropriate sampler in front of the two of you. You both thanked them as they walked off, and you shook your head as you reviewed the newfound information from him in your head.

“Mr. Styles, I-”

“Y/N.”

“Yes?” You looked at him as he sent you one of the most gentle looks you’ve ever seen.

“You can call me Harry.”

ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ

In the few months that followed your breakfast “meeting” with Harry, the two of you developed a really great work relationship. The truth was, the two of you knew that this was a full on friendship as well at this point, but keeping things professional was necessary. If you texted after hours, it was about work only, and if you saw each other outside of the office, it was at work oriented events.

Regardless of that, you each had gotten in the habit of doing little things here and there for each other. You never made a big deal about it, neither of you would tell the other it was you who did it, but you both just knew.

The first time Harry did something unexpected for you was about a month after your new work agreement. That morning you had noticed that the pink peonies you had in your vase on your desk were on their last leg, and you frowned as you tossed them into the trash.

“Maybe this time I can get yellow ones,” you had told Stella, the assistant who worked at the desk right next to yours. “I wanted them the first time around, but they were all out.”

That afternoon when you came back from having lunch with Stella, you saw that your vase was full of yellow peonies. Your mouth gaped as you raced over to them, running the tips of your fingers over the soft petals. It was then you caught sight of Harry leaning against the doorway of his office out of the corner of your eye, and you looked over to him. He tucked his hands into his pockets as he gave you a smile, and you stared into his eyes as you gave him a knowing one back.

A couple of weeks ago you walked into the office on a Monday after having a relaxing weekend of self-care, and as you met Harry in the kitchen for your usual cups of coffee, you watched his eyes light up as he took you in. “You got your hair done,” he said, grinning from ear to ear.

“You noticed?” You couldn’t help but laugh when you asked. You were so surprised.

“Yeah,” he nodded, the tip of his tongue running over his bottom lip. “It looks really good, Y/N.”

You had blushed furiously that day that you were surprised you didn’t combust into flames.

The vibe between the two of you had floated over into flirting territory probably more times than it should, but you both were responsible enough not to take it any further. Sometimes the flirting involved little remarks, or long glances, and even sometimes Harry would take your breath away with a small squeeze to your hip as he moved behind you to reach for something.

You both felt incredibly comfortable around each other, but regardless of that, you had turned Harry’s invitation down for dinner at his house a couple of times. He would only ever offer when you would come by his house after work to drop something off for him, or when you needed to pick something up to be delivered over the weekend. As much as you wanted to tell him yes, you knew it wasn’t a good idea. The last thing either of you needed was someone finding out that you were spending personal time outside of work.

Of course he was the CEO, the one calling most of the shots, but he still had his own people to answer to. You didn’t want to get the two of you in trouble, and Harry didn’t either - that’s why he understood every time you would decline. No matter how many times you had rejected the offer, Harry couldn’t find it in himself to stop asking, and part of him hoped that one day would give in.

Harry had noticed so many little things about you during the time you had spent together. The way you ate crunchy cheetos with chopsticks so you didn’t get your fingers dirty while working was adorable to him, and he picked up on the way you would slightly scrunch up your nose when you were working on a spreadsheet that was proving to be troublesome.

He noticed the way you came into work each week with a different color of polish coating your impeccably manicured nails. When you told him that you did them yourself one day when he complimented the small polka dot designs you had adorning each of your ring fingers, he was floored. He had become completely infatuated with your presence - if he was going to be completely honest.

That’s why as he stood at the bar with a pint in his hand and his eyes set on you speaking with a man he didn’t recognize, he felt an uneasiness in his stomach. The office had gone out for drinks at the usual spot on a Friday afternoon to celebrate an easy and successful week, and most of the time you were attached to Harry’s hip, however, there seemed to be a law firm that was also occupying said bar.

You had been speaking to this same man for about fifteen minutes now, and Harry watched as he moved slightly closer to you over time. You weren’t a very big drinker, Harry knew that. You’d always have one cocktail while out with everyone, and you’d sip on it the entire time - finishing it up just a few minutes before you’d announce you were leaving.

So, when Harry saw the man gesturing to your drink, clearly asking if you’d like another, his hand tensed around his cold glass before he brought it up to take a large swig of his beer.

He saw that you politely declined, and luckily the man honored it and didn't push. If he had, there’d be a serious problem.

For the remaining hour that you both were at the bar, Harry had managed to get himself properly wasted. It made him sick to watch you openly flirt with some else when all he wanted to do was to be able to do that with you.

It wasn’t until you walked over to the bar to stand next to Stella for a moment to pay your tab that the man walked back over to his friends. Harry watched him closely, and his stomach churned as he watched the way the man tapped each of his colleagues and pointed at you. The men surrounding him, both younger and older, eyed you up and down like a piece of meat.

Harry quickly asked to pay his tab, scribbling a hefty tip and his signature on the receipt just in time as he saw you walking back over to the asshole who had every ounce of your attention. After what Harry had just seen him do, there was no way he was going to let you leave with him.

Just as the man was beginning to ask for just your number, Harry practically stumbled up next to you, and your eyes widened as you quickly wrapped an arm around his torso - having him fully lean into your side.

“Harry, you alright?” You asked with narrowed brows.

As you studied him, you could see that he was more drunk than you had ever seen him. Hell, you had really only seen him tipsy before. This was extremely out of the ordinary for him.

“Yeah, ‘m alright,” he slurred just slightly, but he still managed to stay poised. “Jus’ wanted to come and check on you.”

Your eyes flitted over to the man, and you sent him a weak smile. “This your boyfriend?” The man asked, and you heard Harry try to stifle a laugh in the back of his throat before you saw a look take over his eyes - as if a light switch had gone off.

“Actually, I am,” Harry nodded, and your lips parted at that response. “I am Y/N’s boyfriend, and if you’ll excuse us, I think it’s time we went home.”

The man scoffed, and Harry watched as his eyes now looked over you with disgust. “Pretty cheap of you to flirt with me for the past hour when your boyfriend’s in the same building, but I guess I kind of understand if he gets this wasted and ignores you all night.”

“Hey, that’s enough!” You snapped, speaking up before Harry had a chance to - even though his mouth was open to do so. His body was clearly working on a delayed system. “You don’t get to speak about him like you know him. You don’t know him at all.”

Shaking your head, you tightened your arm around Harry’s waist as he threw one of his around your shoulders, and as you began to walk away, Harry turned his head to look at the man with a smirk.

“Oh, and one more thing!” You spoke up as you turned around, talking a bit louder so the man could hear you over the music, causing the attention from some of the other patrons to be on you. “Your cologne fucking reeks - smells like a cat pissed all over your suit.”

Harry’s eyes widened, and he let out the loudest cackle you had heard within your time together as you pushed open the front door to the bar. As you headed down the street, you could barely walk in a straight line due to having your tall British boss clinging to your side.

“I’m gonna drive you home, okay?” You told him as you approached your car that was parallel parked on the street. Using your free hand, you fished your keys from your purse and unlocked the car before helping Harry into the passenger seat.

Once he was good and buckled, you shut the door and rounded over to your side. You slipped inside and turned on the car as you felt Harry’s eyes lingering on the side of your face.

“Let me know if you’re going to get sick or something, alright? I’ve never seen you drink this much before,” you commented as you pulled out of your spot and started down the roads towards his house.

Harry didn’t live too far from here, probably around five minutes maximum, so you really didn’t mind taking him home.

“Yeah, but ‘m not gonna get sick. I have an iron stomach,” Harry stated as he patted his palm against his covered abdomen. “Haven’t puked from drinking in years.”

The car ride was silent except for the light music playing on the radio, and at first you thought Harry had fallen asleep, but when you glanced over, he was just staring at his hands in his lap.

Once you pulled into his driveway, you got out and went over to his side to assist him - supporting him in almost every way as you stepped up onto his porch. You got his keys out of his suit jacket to unlock the door before the two of you were heading inside.

“Didn’t like that guy talking to you,” Harry mumbled as you tossed his keys into the bowl on the table near the door.

“Oh, really? I couldn’t tell,” you laughed sarcastically. You weren’t irritated by any means, but it was all just a little confusing to you why he was acting that way. “Called yourself my boyfriend.”

Harry hummed as he nodded, as you started up his stairs to where you knew his bedroom was. “I could be, you know?”

“What?” You looked over at him quickly, stopping the progress you were making on the stairs.

You soon realized that was a big mistake as Harry started to sway, and your eyes widened as you started leaning backwards. “Okay, hey!” You exclaimed, pulling him forward again before continuing to walk. “About sent us down the damn stairs, Harry.”

“I said, I could be your boyfriend,” Harry repeated himself, completely ignoring the almost tumble once you got him into his bedroom.

“Alright, big guy,” you couldn’t help but let out an actual giggle now as you patted him on the chest. “I’m going to lay you out some pajamas, and you’re going to change while I go downstairs and get you some medicine and some water. Then I’m gonna get you tucked in and leave.”

“I mean it,” Harry’s eyebrows narrowed, clearly offended even in his drunken state that you weren’t taking him seriously. “I like you, Y/N. You’re so beautiful, and you’re bright - you light up a whole room when you walk into it.”

Never once did you know that’s how he felt, but you obviously couldn’t be sure given his current alcohol level. “Harry,” you said softly as you guided him to sit on the end of his bed. “We can talk about this more when you’re sober, alright?”

You almost felt guilty. If this really was how he felt, you were sure this wouldn’t be the type of situation for him to tell you. You knew how Harry was just from the little things he had done for you over your time together. He was sentimental, and he treasured when things were genuine. This isn’t how he would want this to go.

“No, no,” Harry reached forward to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you into him which caused you to gasp. He rested his forehead against your stomach, but you kept your arms limp by your sides. “The thing is, ‘m too much of a coward to tell you when I’m sober. Never been so intimidated by someone in my life.”

You? Intimidating?

Yeah, he was definitely letting the pints and shots he had do the talking.

“Look, I can initiate the conversation next time we see each other that way we can ease into it, but you’re going to regret doing this right now.”

Lifting his head, Harry stared up at you with his droopy green eyes. He moved one hand to rest on your hip, while his other just barely reached to wrap around the back of your neck. “Thought about kissing you,” his lips rolled into his mouth for just a moment before continuing to speak. “Think about it all the time.”

The truth was, you had thought about kissing him too, and you’re sure if you were the one spilling your guts right now, you’d use the same phrasing - you thought about it all the time.

“Come on, H,” the nickname you rarely used slipped from your mouth as you tried to calm him down a bit more. “Let me get you some pajamas so you can change.”

You wrapped your hands around each of his wrists to break his hold on you, and you walked over to his dresser to pull out a pair of joggers and a shirt.

By the time you turned around, Harry was on his back still fully clothed with his mouth wide open. In the twenty seconds it had taken you to get him proper pajamas, he had passed out.

“You’ve gotta be joking,” you mumbled as you walked back over to him, tossing the pajamas onto the top of the dresser before doing so.

Lowering yourself to the ground, you untied each of his shoes and slipped them off of his feet before tossing them to the side. You stood up, tugging his body around so you could at least get his suit jacket off. Unfortunately, the rest of it would be staying on. You didn’t feel comfortable changing him without his permission as this situation had never happened before.

With every bit of strength you could muster up, you pulled Harry further back onto the bed so that his head was on one of his pillows, and you tucked him underneath the sheets.

You went downstairs to grab the glass of water that you had talked about before, as well as two Tylenol and a granola bar. Going up to his bedroom one last time, you placed all the items onto his nightstand, and retrieved his phone out of his jacket pocket to plug it in before you exited the house all together.

You weren’t sure if Harry was going to remember this evening or not. And you weren’t really sure if you wanted him to.

ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ

“Y/N, are you almost ready?” You heard Harry’s voice, followed by a tapping of knuckles against your hotel room door.

You and Harry were out of town for a work event, and you were just putting the finishing touches on your look, however, you hadn’t been able to put your dress on yet as you just finished curling your hair.

Making sure that your robe was tied securely around you, you walked over to the door and opened it - your jaw immediately dropping as you saw how delicious Harry looked in his suit.

“Oh my,” you gasped before you could stop yourself, but once your eyes met his, you cleared your throat. “You look spectacular, Harry.”

You could see a pink tint washing over his cheeks, and it was then you noticed the garment bag he had draped over the crease of one of his arms.

“Thank you,” he smiled before tilting his chin towards the bag. “I know you probably brought your own dress, but I saw this the other day when I picked up my suit, and it reminded me of you.”

You watched as he extended the garment bag to you, and you shook your head. “Harry, I don’t know if I could-”

“Please, Y/N, it would mean a lot to me if you’d wear it. If you don’t like it though, you don’t have to.”

You wanted to ask how he knew your size, but you figured he made a mental note when taking your dress to the dry cleaners that one day.

Sucking in a deep breath, you took the bag from him. “I just need to change and then I’m ready to go.”

Harry nodded. “Take all the time you need. I’ll wait for you down in the lobby. Do you want me to order you a quick drink?”

“That’s okay,” you shook your head. “I’ll have a drink at the event.”

Harry knew that would probably be the only one you’d have for the evening given your track record. “Well, I’ll leave you to it.”

You kept your eyes on Harry’s retreating frame as he walked down the hotel hallway, and you sighed as you shut the door.

It had been a few weeks since Harry’s confession after the bar. When you saw him at work on Monday, he apologized profusely for how drunk he had gotten, but he also thanked you for getting him home. You didn’t want to just flat out ask if he remembered what happened by reciting exactly what he said, so you asked him if he remembered almost pulling the both of you down the stairs instead.

That’s when he confessed he didn’t remember a thing after approaching you at the bar. Since he didn’t remember anything, you decided that you’d leave it. It was probably for the best anyway, and you didn’t want to embarrass him.

But the truth was, Harry lied.

He remembered everything, which shocked him given how drunk he was, and he was so ashamed of himself. He couldn’t believe that he rambled to you about how he felt, how he wanted to be your boyfriend. Not to mention he spilled that he thought about kissing you all the time.

Harry knew it was wrong to lie to you, considering it wasn’t like you could forget what happened. Technically neither could he, but at least he could act like he did.

The fact that you accepted the dress made him happy. There had been a weight in his chest since everything happened because things didn’t feel like they used to between the two of you, and he had no one to blame for that by himself. He didn’t lie about how he came to find the dress though. He really did see it in the window a couple shops down from where he got his suit. He just hoped that you liked it.

Leaning against the bar in the lobby, Harry had ordered himself a short glass of tequila on the rocks - just something to ease his nerves as he waited for you. He was hoping the fact that it was just the two of you on this trip that things could go back to the way they were. You were here together for the weekend, just arriving today and then heading home Monday morning.

He missed the playful banter between the two of you, but most of all, he missed your giggles. He had only heard one or two since that night, and it was eating away at him that he was the reason they went away.

Just as he was sipping the rest of his drink, he heard the clicking of heels against the tiled floor of the lobby, and he turned to look towards the elevators.

Harry thought he was going to fall through the floor just at the sight of you in that dress. He watched as your eyes searched around before falling onto him, and you sent him a small smile as you started to make your way over.

“Wow, Y/N,” Harry met you halfway, having finished off his drink and already paid his tab. “You're stunning.”

You knew you were blushing due to his compliment, so you tried your best to change the subject off of your appearance.

“Let’s just hope I make it through the night without breaking an ankle in these heels,” you joked, causing a soft laugh to leave Harry.

“I’ll make sure you’re steady on your feet, don’t worry.”

You each took a moment to take each other in once more before Harry was extending his arm out to you. “Shall we? The car is waiting out front for us.”

Your eyes dwelled on his arm for a moment before you closed the gap between the two of you completely, cupping the crease of his elbow as he started to lead you towards the doors of the hotel.

Once outside, the driver opened the back door of the car, and when he went to extend his hand for you to take for assistance while getting in, Harry made it a point to stand right in front of him and offer you his hand instead. You couldn’t fight the small smirk that pushed its way forward, and you took Harry’s hand before entering the back seat.

You slid all the way over, watching as Harry got in right behind you, and the driver shut the door.

“Didn’t want him holding my hand?” You asked, raising a brow.

Harry rubbed his hand along the back of his neck before shrugging. “I guess not.”

It reminded you of him saying he didn’t like that man talking to you at the bar, and for some reason, the thought of him being jealous over you caused a new feeling to ignite in your stomach.

Did it turn you on?

You were drawn out of your thoughts as you heard the driver’s side door shut, and you started off towards the event venue.

“Nervous?” You questioned, knowing this was Harry’s first big event since taking on his position.

“A little bit, yeah.”

But not because of the event. He was nervous because of you.

“Me too,” you confessed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I haven’t been to an event like this in a while. I’d come along with Mr. Crawford, but I’d stay at the hotel.”

Harry’s brows narrowed. “He didn’t allow you to accompany him?”

“No, not seen and not heard, remember?” You shrugged. “It’s okay though. I used to just order a bunch of room service, or I’d pay the hotel spa a little visit. He covered all the expenses which was the silver lining.”

“But still. That’s awful to make you travel all this way for you not to be able to participate in the main reason for coming.”

“To be honest, I probably would’ve had a terrible time. He was no fun,” you laughed softly, causing a small smile to grace Harry’s lips. “Not like you.”

“You think I’m fun?” Harry tilted his head to the side playfully.

“Definitely the most fun boss I’ve ever had. But I’ve only had one other than Mr. Crawford, and that was when I worked at a clothing store,” you joked.

“You wanna know a secret?” Harry asked.

Your stomach swirled a little bit at his question, but you nodded. “Sure.”

“I’ve never been a boss before. I wasn’t CEO at my last office even though I was practically doing the job. The other guy just got to be the face for all my hard work.”

“Oh my god, Harry, that’s awful,” you shook your head. “That’s seriously messed up.”

“It was, but I would’ve never left had I actually been the CEO, therefore, I would’ve never met you,” the words slipped from Harry’s mouth before he could process, and you watched as his eyes widened.

His slip up caused your heart to flutter, but you couldn’t allow yourself to get too giddy over it. Harry made it clear that his confession that one night was just drunk rambling, so it was clear your affection wasn’t reciprocated in the same manner.

“Very true,” you decided to finally respond after a moment. “I could’ve had another Mr. Crawford if it weren’t for you.”

The conversation came to an end as you approached the venue, and Harry got out of the car first - extending his hand out just like he had when you got in. You took it, and once you were out of the car, he offered you his arm just like he had back at the hotel, and your hand once again made its home in the crease of his elbow.

The two of you walked into the building, and when you saw just how many people there were, you subconsciously curled yourself into Harry’s side a little more.

“Lots of people, yeah?” Harry asked, and he turned his head to look down at you. Even with your heels, he still stood taller.

Biting down your bottom lip, the two of you ran your eyes over each other's faces before you answered. “Mhmm.”

You noticed the way that Harry’s eyes focused in on your mouth, and for the first time, you wished he’d actually kiss you. You wanted nothing more than to feel his lips against yours, but you knew it was wishful thinking.

“Mr. Styles!” The call of his name caused the two of you to separate, and you looked over to see the investor who had invited you to this event. “And Y/N, you look amazing.”

The man placed his hand on your hip, and leaned in to press a kiss against your cheek. Your eyes flitted over to Harry as he did so, and you could see his fists flexing by his side.

“Nice to see you again, Mr. Noble,” you said once he pulled away from you. “Thank you again for the invitation.”

“Of course, Harry here was also very insistent that you be joining him, even though it was already my intention to have you here.”

You could see Harry’s cheeks flush as Mr. Noble spoke, and you knew that wasn’t necessarily something he wanted you to know.

“Well still, I appreciate it very much.”

Mr. Noble nodded before extending his hand behind him. “Bar is all the way in the back, and there’s servers walking around with hor-d’oeuvres, so please, help yourselves.”

Once he walked away, you looked over to Harry. “Should we get ourselves some drinks?”

“Sure,” Harry placed his hand along your lower back as you made your way through the sea of people.

Just the smallest touch from him could warrant butterflies flying in your tummy, and as much as you loved it, you also hated it. You hated it because you knew those butterflies would never lead to anything. Sometimes you wondered if you’d be stuck with this stupid crush on your boss forever.

“What would you like to drink?” Harry asked you once you approached the bar, and you knew you needed something strong to ease your mind.

“I’ll take a whiskey on the rocks.”

Harry’s eyebrows raised at that, and part of him wanted to question you about it, but he decided against it.

“A tequila on the rocks, and a whiskey on the rocks, please,” he spoke to the bartender for the two of you, and you turned your attention to the floor of people conversing around you.

It wasn’t until you felt the side of Harry’s finger gliding against the outside of your arm that you looked back to him, and you saw he was extending your drink out to you.

“Thank you.”

You took it from him, taking a large sip to start which caused you to wince.

“Everything okay?” Harry’s face showed his concern.

“Just a lot of people,” you repeated his observation from earlier, and even though Harry didn’t believe you, he let it be.

“Ladies and gentlemen, dinner will be served in ten minutes!” The announcement rang overhead, and you felt Harry’s hand against your back once more.

“We should find our seats.”

ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ • ꕤ

You ended up having another whiskey, which Harry knew was extremely unusual for you, and it caused him to worry. Even though you still seemed just fine, he didn’t want you overdoing it. You had mentioned to him once that you didn’t like the feeling of being drunk, and that’s why you only ever stuck to one drink.

The event had wrapped up, and you and Harry found yourselves back in the lobby of your hotel.

“Feeling okay?” Harry checked in on you as he pressed the up button for the elevator, and you nodded.

“Just fine,” you answered, which was the truth.

The extra drink didn’t have you feeling very different, it was just helping you calm those nerves that had been wracking your system for the past few hours.

As you both stepped into the elevator, you ran your hands over your dress which had you realizing you hadn’t thanked Harry for buying it for you.

“This dress is so beautiful, Harry,” you told him, and he looked over at you as you did. “Thank you for buying it for me. I know it must have been expensive.”

Harry waved his hand in the air softly while the other stayed tucked into his pocket. “I didn’t even think about that when buying it for you. Just saw it and knew you had to have it.”

“It’s probably the prettiest piece of clothing I own now,” you laughed, which brought a smile to his face.

The elevator doors opened, and you both started towards your rooms which were right next to each other. After fishing your room key out of your clutch, you turned to face Harry for a moment.

“I had a really good time this evening. I hope that you did too.”

“I did,” Harry nodded. “It was nice seeing them raise all that money for charity, and I was happy to be a part of it.”

Part of you hoped he would have complimented the company he had instead of just speaking about work, but you didn’t know why you had expected that to begin with.

He’s your boss. That’s all.

You had thought for a moment there that it was maybe leading to something more, but with the way Harry had been acting ever since the night you took him home, you knew that was no longer the case.

“Well, goodnight,” you said softly, forcing a smile on your lips before swiping your key and entering your room.

Your mood was officially deflated, and you hated that you felt that way. You had no right to. You indulged too far into the fantasy you had created in your head. You had no one to blame for that but yourself.

Sighing, you tossed your clutch onto the dresser with your room key before heading into the bathroom. You reached your hands behind you to pull down the zipper, but it wasn’t budging.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” you huffed as you turned and looked over your shoulder in the mirror so you could properly see the zipper, and it was then you noticed it was caught on the fabric of your dress.

You closed your eyes as you took in a deep breath as the realization that you were going to have to ask Harry for help dawned on you.

Grabbing your room key, you walked out of your room and over to his door. You had your fist raised above the wooden surface for a few seconds before you finally found the courage to knock. At first you didn’t hear anything, and you thought maybe he was in the shower and couldn’t hear you. You couldn’t bring yourself to knock again, in case he had heard it and was ignoring you, but just as you turned to walk back to your room, you heard the door open.

You looked over to see him standing in the doorway, and you couldn’t help but drop your jaw as you saw that he was just wearing a pair of joggers low on his hips.

Your eyes ran over the ink that was etched into his skin, particularly the ones that draped over his hips, and the large butterfly on his stomach.

“I-I’m sorry,” you stammered, clearing your throat once you forced yourself to look at only his eyes. “My…my zipper. It’s caught.”

Harry’s eyebrows knitted together as he stepped to the side. “Come on in - let me have a look.”

You walked into his room, and you glanced into the bathroom to see that his toiletry bag was open.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” you stated, figuring he was just about to get in the shower.

“Nonsense, Y/N, you’re not bothering me. There’s no need to apologize. Turn around so I can see.”

Swallowing harshly, you turned around and brought all your hair over one of your shoulders so he had proper access to the zipper. You soon felt his hands on you, one cupping your ribcage while the other fiddled with the zipper.

“Oh, I see,” he mumbled, and you knew he was mostly talking to himself.

His hand gave your ribcage a small squeeze before he brought it up to meet the other one. You felt a bit of tugging for a few seconds before the sound of the zipper being pulled down filled your ears, and you felt the dress loosening against your torso.

“There you go,” Harry whispered, and you felt his fingertips dancing along the tops of your shoulders.

You kept your back to him, looking at him over your shoulder as you licked over your bottom lip. By the look in his eyes, you could tell he was pondering over something, and you couldn’t seem to stop yourself before speaking.

“Are you thinking of kissing me?”

Harry’s lips parted at your words, and you held a hand up against the top of your dress to keep it in place as you turned to face him.

“You told me you think about it all the time that night,” you told him, and you could feel your heart pounding against your ribcage. “And I should have told you that I think about it too.”

Stepping forward, Harry got rid of all the space between the two of you as he brought a hand up to cradle your chin in his palm. “Y/N, please don’t be playing with me.”

You shook your head as you let your freehand glide over the forearm of the hand connected to your face. “I’m not, Harry. I know it’s wrong, and that we’d be stepping over a line, but I can’t help it. I’m so enamored by you.”

Your breath caught in your throat as Harry moved his face forward, but you felt him tilting your head to the side - giving him full access to one of the sides of your neck. His lips grazed your skin, and as little as the contact was, you couldn’t stop the moan that left you.

“Please,” you pleaded, wrapping your hand around his wrist and giving it a squeeze. “Please, Harry.”

It was then that his lips fully connected to your neck, and he kissed his way down over the top of your shoulder. Your fingers dented his skin as he then made his way back up to your jawline. “Tell me what you want, Y/N.”

“You,” it came out as a whine unintentionally, but you couldn’t help it. You were a woman blinded by your want for him. “I need you.”

All time stood still as Harry’s mouth finally met yours - causing you to let out a small gasp. He took this as an invitation to seal his lips around your bottom one, and he lightly sucked it into his mouth. Another moan left you, and it was then you moved your hand from your chest - your dress falling to the ground around your heeled feet as you pressed your body against his.

Harry’s hands then grazed down your body until they met the rounds of your ass, kneading them softly before he dropped them lower to the back of your thighs. He was then lifting you off the ground, and you wrapped your legs around his waist - ankles crossed along his lower back as he walked you over to his bed, and you kicked your heels off your feet.

He laid you down gently right in the middle of the bed, and you finally opened your eyes to see him hovering over you. His eyes were drinking you, and you could tell he was admiring your breasts as they heaved up and down from the deep breaths you had to remind yourself to take. His cross pendant swung back and forth before resting against your chest when he leaned down to place another sweltering kiss on your mouth.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. Something that you had imagined in your mind for so long was now becoming a reality.

Your hands trembled as you brought them up to rest on his pecs, and you could feel that his heart was pounding just as hard as yours.

“Y/N, I have to tell you something,” Harry pulled away from your lips with a soft smack, and you couldn’t help but panic at his words. “I lied.”

You waited a moment before speaking. “You lied about what?”

“That night. I do remember confessing everything to you, but I was so embarrassed that it felt better for me to act like I had forgotten it. I was so nervous that I had ruined everything, and I thought lying would make things okay. I was wrong for doing that.”

“And you meant what you said?”

Harry nodded. “Meant every fucking word. I’m crazy about you.”

This time you initated the kiss as you wrapped one of your hands around the back of his neck, and you brought his mouth down against yours once more.

Your other hand journeyed down his chiseled chest to the waistband of his joggers, and you tugged at them - signaling that you wanted them off. Your eyes were closed as you felt him moving around, but they shot open when you could feel his hard length resting against your stomach. You had expected him to be wearing underwear.

Disconnecting your mouths, you looked down to see his cock - hard and leaking against your skin.

“Sorry,” he blushed furiously as you briefly looked up at him before looking back down. “I’m just so turned on right now. I’ve thought about this for so long.”

“Me too,” you nodded, running your tongue along your cheek before you reached down to wrap your hand around his shaft.

Keeping your eyes on his face, you watched as Harry’s eyes fluttered shut, and his breathing deepened once you began to work your hand over him. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” You let your hand leave him for just a second to spit into your palm before you started your movements right back up. “Can’t even fit my hand around you, Harry. You’re so big.”

Your dirty talk shocked him. For someone so quiet and reserved in the office, you sure did have a way of speaking in the bedroom.

“Pretty little hand just squeezing me, hm?” Harry knew he could dish it right back to you - the thought of the two of you going back and forth causing another blurt of precome to drip from his leaky slit. “I could come just from this, to be honest. Fucked my fist so many times thinking about you. Felt wrong to moan your name, but I couldn’t help it.”

“Thought about me while touching yourself?” You earned a nod from Harry in response. “Thought about you too when I’d have my toy sucking on my clit. I always pictured it was your perfect lips playing with me. I would moan your name too. I had to. I could only get off when thinking of you.”

“Who knew you were so dirty?” Harry chuckled, pressing his tongue against the inside of his bottom lip. “You’re so fucking sexy, Y/N. My little minx.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at that, but you nodded as well. “Just yours. Only want to be yours.”

Your hand began to work him faster, and you moved your free hand down to swipe your fingers along the precome that was continuously dripping onto your stomach. Harry’s eyes were glued to your every move, and you bit down on your bottom lip as you smeared his arousal over his lips before slipping your fingers between your own.

“So yummy,” you commented as you held his eyes. “I can’t wait to taste all of you.”

“Fuck,” Harry groaned before licking over his lips. “You’re going to make me come.”

“Please,” you mimicked your plea from earlier. “I want it all over my tummy.”

“Want me painting your skin with my come?”

“Again, I need you to,” you moved your legs around to where one of Harry’s toned thighs was pressed right against your covered cunt.

You began to rock your hips back and forth, a hardy moan flooding out of your throat as you did so. Your clit was throbbing - begging for attention as your hand continued to glide up and down Harry’s prick.

“Oh my god,” Harry gasped, and you looked up just in time to see his eyes shutting again with a slack jaw. “For fuck’s sake.”

It was then you felt his come shooting out, coating your stomach and even reaching up to your breasts as you rode him through his orgasm. Once you knew he was finished, you couldn’t help but tighten your hand once more, and you watched as you milked another string of come from him.

“Jesus, Y/N,” Harry dropped his forehead against you, but he kept his torso hovering yours.

Still mesmerized by his load on your stomach, you didn’t even notice his hand had slipped between your legs until you felt his fingers gliding through your drenched folds - your underwear tenting around his hand.

“Oh,” you whimpered, tossing your head back. “Feels good.”

“Barely touching you, baby,” Harry chuckled as he used his index and middle fingers to spread you apart - the pad of his thumb pressing down against your pulsing clit.

You moaned as he began to move his digit in circles, and your eyes followed him as he leaned down. Sticking out his tongue, he licked over your nipples, cleaning up his come as he sucked on them. It caused you to clench down around nothing, and you could feel yourself growing wetter by the second.

“Yes,” you gasped as his teeth grazed against the pebbled bud.

“Like having your little nipples played with, honey?” Harry asked, smirking up at you. “Pretty little things they are. I knew they would be. Pretty nipples, and a pretty pink pussy. Never seen something as pretty as you in my life.”

“And I’ve never seen something as pretty as you,” you breathed as he started giving attention to your other nipple as well.

Soon his mouth had worked to clean all of his come off of your skin, and it was then that he moved his hand around to have his middle and ring fingers slipping inside of your welcoming entrance while his other hand pulled your underwear off.

“Christ, Y/N,” Harry groaned, shaking his head. “You’re so fucking tight.”

“It’s been a while,” you confessed as you bucked your hips up against his hand - feeling the heel of his palm against your clit.

“How long?” Harry began to move his fingers with more purpose, and you choked as a moan got stuck in your throat.

“Three…three years.”

Harry’s movement stilled, evoking a whine from you as you snaked your hips around.

“You’re serious?”

“Yes,” you swallowed, using this little pause to try and catch your breath. “Haven’t had anyone since my last boyfriend. I don’t go out much, and I don’t like dating apps. I haven’t really had the opportunity to meet anyone.”

Harry leaned down to massage his lips against yours briefly before pulling back - knocking his nose against yours. “I’m about to give your the best fucking of your life, you understand?”

Another moan left you at his words, and you nodded. “Please.”

Harry’s fingers left you, and he got off the bed to walk over to his wallet on top of the dresser. You watched as he retrieved the square foil package from it before he climbed back onto the bed over you.

“You’re sure about this?” Harry asked. “This…this changes everything.”

“I’m sure,” you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck. “I’ve wanted you for so long, Harry. I know that I want this.”

“I’ve wanted you too, Y/N. You have no idea how badly.”

You heard the sound of the package opening, and you looked down to watch Harry roll the rubber over his length - him having grown fully hard once again.

“Ready?” Harry lined himself up with your entrance, and you felt his head pressing just lightly against your fluttering hole.

“Yes, yes. Please, fuck me.”

With the angling of his hips forward, Harry’s tip entered you, and you groaned as you felt him stretching you completely.

“Gotta relax, honey,” Harry’s hands reached down to massage your hips. “Breathe in with me. I’ll count. One, two, three, four, five.”

You each let the deep breath back out, and he smiled down at you.

“Again,” he instructed you, but this time, he began sinking his length inside of you as he spoke each number. “One, two, three, four, five.”

Eventually he bottomed out completely, sheathed inside your warm cunt, and you felt yourself clench down around him.

“You’re so big,” you whimpered, nails digging into his biceps. “Never had anything this big inside me before.”

“Never? Not even a toy?” Harry asked as he drew his hips back before thrusting in again.

“No,” you shook your head. “My biggest is hardly half your size. I’m not the biggest fan of dildos or vibrators. My suction toy gets me off just fine.”

“Well, I don’t think you’ll be needing that too much anymore,” Harry laughed as his hands now cupped your breasts. “I’ll make sure you’re satisfied every damn day.”

He gave you three aggressive thrusts as he spoke those last three words, and you felt your eyes roll into the back of your head. “Yes.”

“That sound good to you, baby?” Harry started up a steady pace - his balls slapping against your rear entrance as he did so. “Have you coming on my fingers, my tongue or my cock every day? You’re never going to go without, understand?”

“Mhmm,” you mewled, arching your tits further into his palms. “I understand.”

For a few moments, only soft moans and heavy breathing filled the room, accompanied by the sound of your skin slapping together as Harry satiated your sexual hunger. You had never been fucked like this before in your life. He was taking you with such precision - each of his thrusts filled with a purpose. The purpose being to get you off by any means necessary.

“You know what else I’ve thought about?” Harry asked after capturing your lips in a brief kiss. “Thought about taking you in my office, especially on those days where you wear those tight pencil skirts, or those flowy dresses, and I think about bending you over my desk - taking you from behind.”

“Yeah?” You stared up at him. “Thought about taking you at work too. I thought about - uh - riding you as you sit in your desk chair, and I wouldn’t even care if people heard. I see the way Darlene in marketing looks at you. I’d want her to know it was me who got to have your cock.”

Your words caused Harry to give you an extra hard thrust, and you could feel his tip punching against your most sensitive spot.

“I would hope they all hear,” Harry tilted his head down, spitting against your clit before beginning to use the tips of his fingers to play with it. “Hope they all know it’s me who gets to fuck you this good.”

“Promise me,” your hands found their way to Harry’s back, and you dragged your nails down his skin. “Promise me you’ll fuck me in your office first thing Tuesday morning. I’ll wear my prettiest underwear - just for you.”

“Better be just for me,” Harry growled as he smacked your wet pearl. “I’m the only one who gets this cunt now.”

“The only one,” you agreed. “I don’t want anyone else. Just you.”

“And I only want you. God, I can’t believe this is happening right now. I’ve finally got you underneath me.”

“Want to stay underneath you,” you babbled as you felt heat pooling in your lower stomach. “Harry, I’m close.”

Harry’s fingers applied more pressure to your clit, and it was then that your orgasm washed over you. You could feel yourself gushing past Harry’s covered cock - your body trembling as your knees squeezed against his hips.

“Oh my god,” your head lulled to the side as you started to come back down. “I’ve never come so hard in my life.”

“Look so pretty when you come,” Harry shook his head, still not believing that he was seeing you like this. “It’s a fucking honor to see something as gorgeous as that.”

You started to lift your hips up to meet his movements, and you could feel yourself clenching down around him again. If he kept this up, you’d definitely be having another orgasm before you were finished.

“You feel so good around my cock, Y/N. Never had a cunt fit me so perfectly. Take a look.”

One of Harry’s hands cupped the back of your neck, and he sat up just a bit as he pulled your head up. You peered down, spreading your legs further as you watched his thick cock glide in and out of you.

“Look at that,” you bit down on your bottom lip, a whimper leaving you as you couldn’t find it in yourself to look away. “Just clinging to you, huh?”

Harry hummed in response, and you could feel his thrusts growing a bit uneven. “I’m about to come, baby.”

“Me too. I’m going to come again, Harry. I want you to come with me.”

After a few more thrusts, you felt absolute pleasure blanket over you for the second time, and you watched as your orgasm coated him completely. It was then you looked up to see Harry’s face contorting once again, and this time he looked even more glorious than before as he emptied himself inside of the condom.

Making sure that you both rode your highs out completely, Harry continued his movements for just a few more seconds before he collapsed on top of you.

Your bodies were sticky with sweat as you clung to each other, and your fingers played with the hairs at the nape of his neck. This all felt so right - that the both of you were exactly where you needed to be in each other’s arms

You opened your eyes when you felt Harry’s head tilting up, and you both smiled at each other. “Hi,” he said, fingertips dipping into the ridges of your ribs.

“Hi,” you giggled, and you saw his face brighten even more at that.

“I missed that sound,” he told you. “It’s one of my favorite things.”

“Well, I think you’ll be hearing a lot of it now,” you smirked, pushing some of his curls off his forehead.

“I can’t wait.”

Harry gave you a quick kiss as he pulled out, and he helped you into the bathroom before giving you privacy to clean yourself up. He discarded the condom in the trash can before slipping back into his joggers.

Once you were out of the bathroom, Harry’s eyes ran over your naked form as you approached him. You threw your arms around his neck to bring him down for another kiss as Harry rested his hands against your hips.

“So, I guess now if someone at the bar asks if you’re my boyfriend, you don’t have to lie this time,” you teased.

“Oh yeah?” Harry’s smirk that you’ve come to love so much crept its way into his lips. “So, I’m your boyfriend now?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed. “If you want to be.”

“Are you kidding me? Been dying to be able to say that and actually have it be real. I wanna fucking tell everyone that I’m yours, but I’ll make sure we’re careful at the office. It’ll all work out.”

You both shared another kiss before you just hovered your lips over his.

“So…round two?”

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