#Harry Styles Fic

[gurugirl]

Maybe Fate

MAIN MASTERLIST

This was first posted on Patreon one year ago! Figured I’d share it here with y’all on tumblr! 💕

Summary: The first time you meet Harry is under odd circumstances. But the second time you meet him it feels like fate. Well, if you believe in that sort of thing.

A/N: I have a couple of songs linked through to Spotify if you are interested in listening to set the scene - it's not necessary, though!

Word Count: 8,347

Warning: smut, cuteness, loud sex that can be heard by others

..

Your roommate K had some gall. You could hear her and whoever it was she brought home from the bar going at it for what seemed like an exaggerated amount of time. How was it possible that they could last that long? Why were they still having sex?

As annoying as it was to lose sleep (you had a test in the morning so it was a little more than just annoying) you could admit, it did sound like she was getting it good.

The man, who you’d not yet seen and probably would not be seeing, had a deep voice. And not just any deep voice. He sounded—hot. You couldn’t hear everything that that he said but he was vocal and he was definitely talking dirty to her.

Of course, there was also her bed wildly bouncing and frame smacking into the wall which told you he was plowing her in a way that made you a little jealous. You hadn’t been laid in a while. It was your senior year at university and you were busting your ass like the good student you were. You needed a good grade to get the internship you were up for that summer.

So sleep was vital. And here you were listening as K was getting the life fucked out of her. She sounded like she was crying but then you’d hear her long drawn-out moans of pleasure…

You stuffed your pillow over your head and groaned. If you failed your test the following day you’d be having a word with her about proper roommate etiquette. They could keep it down. There was no way they weren’t aware you could hear every little thing happening on her bed. You could even hear their bodies colliding every time he thrust into her.

Jesus. You needed sleep. But you also needed to get laid.

. . .

You didn’t fail your test, but you barely passed. But a passing grade was a passing grade you thought to yourself as you ordered your cappuccino. You were exhausted. Memories of what had kept you up had you rolling your eyes.

K was nice. You didn’t know her well, though. You were renting a small two-bedroom apartment and found it through an ad she’d posted. It would have been nice to have a place of your own but who could afford that? So, being stuck with K was more out of necessity than anything. You didn’t have much choice.

And up until the night before you’d really had no major complaints. She was six years older than you and had a regular job. She brought men home from time to time but nothing like her most recent Casanova that shook the whole apartment. And it was funny to you how she was always out partying and drinking while you stayed in on the weekends and studied til your eyes bulged out of your head. It should have been the opposite with you being the college kid and her the more mature adult.

Your plan had been to go home and crawl back into bed to catch up on the sleep you’d missed out on. But when you walked into your apartment you realized that K was still home. Which was odd since it was midday Thursday. Normally she was working.

You tossed your bag in your room and toed off your tennis shoes before making your way to the shared bathroom in the hallway and pushing open the door.

But instead of finding the bathroom unoccupied, you were met with a naked man who looked just as surprised as you were, “Oh shit!”

You turned quickly and put your hands over your eyes, “Sorry! Oh my god!”

The shock of seeing a man’s naked dick when you were not expecting it had you a bit dazed.

“Sorry, I’m covered now. Sorry,” you heard his voice and realized immediately who the offender was. The rowdy Casanova from the night before.

You kept your fingers over your eyes as you turned and slowly parted your digits to make sure it was safe.

He laughed and you verified he was indeed covered. But you did notice all the tattoos on his chest and arms, and his dark curls and soft green eyes… Yeah K was a lucky girl. Damn.

You didn’t stare long, though. But you could tell his body looked like he had a lot of stamina, and after everything you’d heard the night before you understood it all now.

“I’m Harry,” he held a hand out to you in greeting.

You smiled up at him and slid your palm into his, “Y/n. Uh… I’m guessing you’re K’s friend?”

He laughed again. Even his laugh was attractive with a big grin and nice teeth, “Yeah. I guess you could call me her friend.”

“Got it,” you nodded as you backed up out of the bathroom, “Well, I’ll come back when you’re done in here. Honestly didn’t mean to see…” you waved your hand around, “any of that.”

. . .

You didn’t see Harry again after that. You did hear him again the following night, though. But this time you had a picture in your head of the man who was obliterating K with that big thing between his legs and his nicely built body with broad shoulders and thick, muscled thighs.

It was no wonder she was crying out in ecstasy. You wondered if she’d need to repaint the wall where the frame was knocking into the plaster repeatedly. Wondered if other neighbors could hear (surely they could). Wondered what position he was putting her in and how he might look doing it.

Then you heard a loud pop and K’s choked gasp and then another three or four pops. He was spanking her.

You rolled your eyes so hard you felt the force of your sockets nearly separate from your eyeballs. It wasn’t fair. God, what you wouldn’t give to have a man that looked like that fucking you so hard into your mattress you were a blubbering mess and then to have him spank you with those big hands…

You could almost see the dimpled smirk on his face as he landed his palms over her bum. You could hear his voice but it was difficult to make out the words he was saying over the racket of the squeaky bed and K’s high-pitched moans.

And once again, the amount of stamina he had to last as long as he did was quite amazing to you. Most of the guys you’d slept with couldn’t keep going like that or they’d come too fast.

But of course, the longer they lasted, the less sleep you were awarded.

. . .

Graduating from university felt different than you imagined it would. Nothing much really changed. You envisioned getting that internship and starting a new life and making new friends with people who had the same interests as you.

But instead, you found yourself not getting picked for the internship even though you were more than qualified, and moving back in with your parents once your lease with K was up.

Honestly, it felt a lot like high school again, except this time you needed to get a job. And as it turned out having your engineering degree meant zilch when you had no experience to speak of. So you were forced to find something that had nothing to do with the framed certificate hung on the wall in your childhood bedroom.

So that’s why you needed a night out or something. Something to break up the monotony of what this very disappointing after-graduation life looked like so far.

“I know it might sound really lame, but I am going bowling with some friends. On Fridays, they have $10 pitchers of beer and pizza. Cheap fun.” Your cousin, Lee, told you over the phone when you called to find out what her plans were.

But even if you were terrible at bowling, beer and pizza with adults your age sounded really fun. You needed to get out of your parent's house and do anything else. Bowling sounded more appealing than listening to your dad talk about his coworkers and what time he was gonna light up the grill and make hamburgers (then hear him complain about how you don’t eat meat).

Rocket Soul Bowl was one of those dirty, old bowling alleys. The parking lot was filled with potholes and had weeds growing up through the cracks and the inside smelled of stale cigarette smoke, had dim lighting, with old school rock and R&B playing. It was perfect.

Well. Better than watching your parents eat hamburgers while you stuck with chips and potato salad.

You found Lee with one of her friends after you got your used (and hopefully sanitized) bowling shoes and she already had a pitcher of beer on the table with plastic cups.

“Y/n!” She jumped up and hugged you, “This is Chris,” she gestured toward the guy who stood up to reach his hand out for you to shake. “We’re waiting on Harry. And then we’ll start bowling and order pizza.”

You smiled at Lee and Chris and then poured beer into your cup as you sat down on the hard, smooth plastic bench at the table. It wasn’t often you heard the name Harry. Immediately your mind went to the tall curly-headed man with tattoos. Part of you thought how funny it would be if that was the Harry who was meeting up with your cousin at the bowling alley. In all the world, to have it be the same Harry seemed impossible.

But when a Bill Withers song began playing over the speakers and Chris stood up to greet someone who approached you from behind, “Hey man! Good to see you!” It was like something inside of you just knew. Before you even heard his voice or looked at his green eyes.

Placing your plastic cup down you stood up and turned to see him. Harry hugged Lee but the moment they parted from the hug he saw you and the smile on his face changed to a flirty grin. “Y/n, what a surprise. Are you the cousin?” You noted he had a black helmet tucked under his arm.

You nodded and looked at Lee and back at Harry, “Yeah. I’m Lee’s cousin. You guys know each other?”

Lee laughed, “For years. Wait? You know Harry?”

Before you could speak Harry grabbed your hand and pulled you into his side, draping his arm over your shoulder, “We do,” he looked down at you, “Intimately.”

Chris laughed and you shook your head, pushing yourself out from under his arm, “We know each other, but not really. Definitely not intimately. He’s joking,” you laughed.

Harry’s demeanor did not falter, “But we do, Y/n. You’ve seen my cock and balls and bush. I’d say that’s intimate.”

You looked at Lee, still shaking your head, “No, that was an accident–“

“She’s playing shy. Knows very well some other very intimate details about me as well,” he kept his eyes on you, the edge of his mouth playing upward in a smirk, “Isn’t that right?”

You rolled your eyes and laughed as you squinted at him, “You’re crazy.”

Harry pulled you back into his side and put his arm over your shoulder, “I am a little.”

When Lee put everyone’s name in the computer and the match started it was your turn first. You picked a bowling ball you liked the color of and stood along the lines on the slick floors and attempted to launch the ball down the center of the lane but once it got toward the end the ball suddenly veered to the left and only knocked down two pins.

You repeated your move, trying to make the ball stay toward the center but it rolled in nearly the same path as before, veering to the left at the end, this time hitting nothing before it rolled into the gutter and then it was Harry’s turn.

“Better luck next time, Cherry,” he eyed your shirt as he spoke and picked up his ball.

You were wearing a black t-shirt with cherries on the front with the words Have a cherry good time! You rolled your eyes as you sat down and sipped your beer. But inside you were feeling something other than annoyed. In fact, you could say you were quite pleased that Harry was there.

It turned out, as was no surprise, that you were a terrible bowler. So was Lee. Chris was good enough to hold his own, but what was surprising was how good Harry was. He claimed he rarely bowled, that it was just luck. But you weren’t sure about all that.

The four of you sat on the plastic chairs after your first set and ate pizza (you opted for cheese) with a fresh pitcher of beer, “I’m just good at most things I do. I have no idea why,” Harry laughed before taking a huge bite of his slice of pizza.

“It’s true. This guy just learns how to do something and immediately he’s good at it. In our sophomore year at university, I was on the track team and one day I was at practice and Harry just pops in because he wants to chat about something so I tell him I’ve got to run laps so he just goes with me. The whole team was out there practicing in our athletic gear, like just dragging and sweating and Harry’s in jeans and a t-shirt and he’s running next to me not even breaking a sweat. He held a whole conversation while we were full-on running without skipping a beat.”

Chris took a drink from his cup, “Oh, and then there was the time that girl was showing us how to play chess and Harry sits and watches and listens to her explain the game so he plays a round with her and he fucking beats her. Like?”

The four of you laugh but the truth is you’re a bit impressed. You also happen to know another thing he’s really good at, but you stop yourself from allowing that thought to develop further.

The next game you play, you also suck. You barely hit any pins but you were having such a good time you could have cared less. Of course, Harry was just strike after strike. One time he went up with his plastic cup, launched his ball with one hand while he took a sip of beer and hit all but two pins. On his next try, he threw the ball, knocking down the two remaining. But that was him showing off. His cocky grin aimed at you as he sat down.

But the best part was that he sat next to you every time he went back to the seats when his turn was over. He kept his arm over your shoulder with his thigh flush against yours.

It made you hot having him so close. Every time you looked down at his thighs you were reminded of that day you saw him. You knew what he looked like with no jeans covering his bottom half. And you knew those muscles were definitely good for something.

It was hard not to think about Harry that way. He was hot and he was flirty.

And when your mind was wandering into the figurative gutters (unlike the literal ones your bowling ball kept wandering into) about what he’d be like with you in bed you didn’t realize it was your turn as you listened to his husky voice with his arm over your shoulder and his fingers brushing the skin just under your t-shirt sleeve.

“Cherry girl, your turn,” he spoke into your ear, breaking you from your reverie.

Another bad round. You were terrible. You laughed as you turned back to see Harry right behind you waiting his turn, “Come here,” he pulled at your hand, “Let’s do this together. Your form is all wrong.”

“But if I bowl on your turn I’m gonna fuck up your score.”

Harry’s dimples poked into his cheeks as he smiled, “Why would I care about my score? I’m not making money on this or anything. Even if we hit no pins I’m still gonna win anyway. Now get your cute ass over here so we can figure out what’s going on.”

You coughed a laugh and looked back at Lee who was watching the exchange with her brows raised. Yeah, she’d been giving you looks the entire time. You were sure she thought you and Harry had something going on. You could only hope.

Harry moved you up to the line as he stood behind you with his hands on your shoulders and then he pushed his chest to your back, helping you hold the ball correctly, positioning your hands with his, “Hold it like this, yeah?” His voice vibrated off the shell of your ear and down the back of your neck.

“There, good girl, Cherry. Just like that.” He let go of your hands and then you felt his grip on the back of your hips, “We’re gonna take one step forward, and then as you bring your other leg up you’ll swing this back for momentum before pushing it out and letting it roll toward the pins. Follow my lead.”

He nudged you forward before putting one hand on your right arm, “Now bring it back,” he let you swing the ball back before you felt him push the ball in your hands, giving you a bit more oomph in your swing. “And release. Like that…” he stayed against your back as you both watched the ball roll down the lane and rather than either going directly into the gutter or only hitting the last two pins on the left it was almost center and hit half the pins.

You jumped up and spun around, “Oh my god! It worked!” He laughed as you hugged him and you felt his arms squeeze around your middle before letting you go.

“Now try it again. See if you can do the same thing I just showed you.”

You took your bowling ball and lined up, holding the ball upward as Harry showed you, and then moved to swing and release. The ball didn’t have as much power as when he had helped you but it still hit three more pins.

You jumped up and down and turned back, high-fiving Harry as you both took your seats next to one another. It felt good to hit more pins. Something about it was exhilarating and maybe it was the way Harry looked proud that had you feeling that excitement even more so. It didn’t matter, though. You were having so much fun.

But all good things must come to an end. When the last round was nearly over and you were still losing while Harry was blowing everyone out of the water, you were feeling a bit of anxiety at that being it. Maybe you’d never see him again. He hadn’t asked for your number and even though he was obviously flirting with you there was no guarantee it actually meant much of anything.

When Lee took her turn and a Bruce Springsteen song came on you felt Harry’s fingers move to the back of your neck, “What are you doing after this?”

You smiled as you looked at him, his face was incredibly close to yours, “No plans. You?”

“What a coincidence that two young and attractive people have no plans on a Friday night after bowling. Wouldn’t you say?”

You laughed as his fingers trailed over the skin on your neck, “Yeah. Wild coincidence.”

“Actually it is. Maybe fate even,” he grinned teasingly, “I’m pretty sure this means we’re meant to hang out after this. Me and you, Cherry. You can’t say no to fate.”

The smile on your face couldn’t be removed if anyone tried. Because maybe Harry was right. Maybe it was fate. Maybe the coincidences in life that we think of as just coincidences are more than just random occurrences.

“That’s true. Who can say no to fate.”

You watched him lick his lips before Lee sat at the computer and tallied up the score. Obviously, Harry had won, to no one’s surprise.

Everyone stood up to say their goodbyes. Lee hugged you as she pulled you toward the exit with Harry and Chris following behind after you’d dropped off your rented shoes, “So, you and Harry?”

You laughed and shook your head, “I don’t know. He invited me to hang out after this. Maybe just a little fun,” you raised your brows and Lee laughed.

Harry had a black motorcycle, which explained the helmet he had with him, that had coincidentally (once again) been parked right next to your little shitter car.

“Where are you parked?” He said as he looked at you. Lee and Chris were already headed away toward their cars.

You pointed to the car right next to Harry’s motorcycle, “That’s me.”

Harry’s eyes took in your old beater and he leaned against the door, “Wanna take a ride with me? I can bring you back to your car later.”

You nodded, “Should I have a helmet?”

Harry raised up the black one that he had, “You’ll wear this. Okay?”

“But what about you?”

Harry inched in closer to you as he unhooked the buckle on the helmet, “I’ll be fine. My place is pretty close if you want to go there,” he raised his brows at you in question.

“Oh. Sure. Okay.” His place.

“Yeah? Did you want to go somewhere else instead?” He pulled the helmet over your head and adjusted the straps as you looked at his face.

“Your place is fine, Harry. I’d like that.”

When he’d fixed the helmet tight to your head he looked at you and lowered his gaze over your frame with a sexy grin, “Cute.”

You’d never ridden on a motorcycle before. Harry got on first and held your hand to help you on behind him, “Put your arms around me and hold on.” Turned out you really enjoyed the ride. The cool night air whipped around your body while the world around you flew by in a fuzzy blur as Harry safely took you to your destination.

You liked sitting behind him and holding onto his waist. The smell of his cologne or soap was fresh and his body was warm. You felt like a different person on the back of that bike with Harry. You didn’t know what to expect exactly but that was part of the thrill.

Harry turned into an apartment complex and parked at the front before helping you off the bike, “This is my place,” he gestured toward the second floor of the building and then helped you take the helmet off. Which you didn’t need him to do but found you loved his attention on you.

Following behind Harry you walked up the steps to the second level and he got to his door and stuck his key in. Before he opened his door he turned to look at you, “Kind of messy inside. Didn’t expect to have company.”

When you stepped in and he turned on the lights you looked around. It was about as messy as seemed appropriate. Nothing crazy. An empty glass of water next to a bowl of what looked like dry cereal on the coffee table, a blanket bunched up on the couch, trainers by the door with socks tucked inside, and some books on the floor next to a chair by the couch.

“Would you like anything to drink? Water? Beer? Uh… that’s really all I’ve got.”

“Nah. I’m good. Thank you, Harry.”

He sat the helmet down on the coffee table and plopped onto the couch, patting the space next to him, “Come here, Cherry.”

You laughed and sat next to him. Harry pushed his arm over your shoulders, his body angled toward you, “You know that day you walked in on me in the bathroom?”

You raised a brow at him, looking up to his face, “Yeah?”

“I kind of wanted to get your number. Is that bad of me since I was there with K?”

You breathed a laugh through your nose, “A little bad. But why? Sounded like you really liked K.”

Harry cackled loudly and his body shook the couch as he gripped your shoulder, “I liked her. But she was just using me for my body,” he teased, “But seriously. You were so cute and then I never saw you again. Thought about you a few times after.”

You grinned as you squinted at him, “You did not think about me after. Seemed you forgot anyone else existed while you were in her bed that night.”

He watched your lips as you spoke and he nodded, “I tend to just give it my all when I’m with someone, casual or not. If other people happen to hear then that’s fine. I’ve got no shame.”

“Clearly,” you grinned.

Harry scrunched his brows and looked over your face, “What do you like, Y/n? Does it bother you when other people can hear you having sex?”

You dropped your mouth open and blinked at him in surprise, “I… Well, first of all, I don’t think anyone has ever overheard me having sex. It tends to be relatively quiet I guess?”

“Really? I don’t think I’ve ever had sex that was quiet. Unless I’m wanking myself off but that doesn’t count. So you like quiet sex, then?” He smirked at you and tucked his lips into his mouth.

You shook your head, “I just mean I haven’t had loud sex is all,” you smiled, “I think it could be fun. Sounded like it was fun…”

“It was. But I like to have fun. Bet you’d like it too.”

You were caught in the moment with Harry like there was a force that made looking away from him impossible. You smiled shyly and pulled your bottom lip between your teeth.

“How are you this cute?” He lifted his hand up to your cheek and you watched his pupils wind over your features. “Cherry girl with cherry lips,” he settled his gaze on your irises, “Pretty eyes.”

He lowered his hand to brush his knuckles down your neck softly and you closed your eyes at the light touch as you released your bottom lip from your teeth.

“Likes her neck touched,” his voice lowered as he spoke, moving in closer to you, “Probably likes it kissed too. Yeah?”

You opened your eyes to look at him and nodded. You did like your neck kissed, that was true.

His thumb pressed the side of your neck as he looked at the skin under his fingers, “Is it okay if I do? Right here?”

“Yeah,” you spoke in a breath before you felt his warm pink lips on your skin and the whole world melted away the moment you felt his tongue lave up to your jaw.

He pressed gentle kisses down your neck and then up to the lobe of your ear, “Tastes like cherries,” his breath warming your skin and making you breakout in goosebumps as he continued using his mouth and tongue all around your skin, his damp lips leaving traces of his saliva in each spot he kissed.

Your breath deepened as you moved your hand to the top of his thigh, “Oh my god,” you whispered, not even realizing you’d spoken.

Harry smiled as he lowered his lips to the collar of your shirt, dotting the skin just above the fabric with pecks, and then you felt his hand grip the back of your head before his mouth was pressed against yours and now you were in space kissing the man that coincidence (or fate) had brought back into your life.

You moaned into his mouth as you placed your hands on his broad back and he leaned over you, moving your back into the couch and licking the seam of your lips before you pressed your tongue against his.

Soft and smooth kisses slowly became eager and wanton. Harry’s mouth and his hands directed the whole thing. He pushed your legs apart and settled himself down between them, his hand wrapped around the back of your neck.

When he lowered his mouth to your neck again you let out a helpless gasp and he puffed a laugh against your skin but he didn’t stop. You felt his mouth at the curve of where your neck and shoulder met as his free hand grasped your side, his hips pinning you down. It made you dizzy.

You pulled at his shirt, the material bunching in your hands so you could feel his skin under your palm. He was warm and even his back was strong. You could feel him flexing under your hand as he sat up and slid his shirt off over his head.

You followed suit, pushing yourself to sit up and remove your cherry t-shirt. Harry’s eyes honed in on your bra-covered breasts and he dipped down, cupping both sides with his hands and licking over the thin fabric to wet the spot right over your nipple. You were pushed back down into the couch as Harry’s lips worked over your bra and his hands squeezed.

He moaned as he used his thumb to pull the fabric down slowly and then pressed his lips to the plump skin on your tits where the fabric was pulled down.

“Take it off,” you moaned as Harry’s green eyes settled on yours and he pushed his hands behind your back to unhook your bra. He dropped his mouth to your clavicle as he worked to get your bra undone and when he’d finally had success you felt the material being pulled out from under your back as he dragged the bra from you and draped it over the back of the couch.

He dove in right away. Lips parted, tongue out as he wetted your skin and kissed your nipples one by one.

You put your hands into his hair, thick brown curls between your fingers as he began to lower his lips down to your belly button.

You quickly released his hair and unbuttoned your pants, giving him permission to take them off if he chose.

And he definitely did. With his lips parted and shiny he looked at you as he tugged your jeans down your legs before squeezing at your soft thighs running his palms up to your hips over your panties, “Fucking beautiful.”

He kneaded your tits in his hands again and then softly coaxed his hands down your sides to the tops of your thighs, pressing his fingers into the meat as he took you in.

You saw a grin pull up on his face as he dragged his thumb to the edge of the fabric of your panties, “You like me don’t you?”

You laughed, “Well I think that should be obvious, I’m sitting here in my panties in your apartment.”

Harry looked back down to your panties and smiled, “That you are. I can see just how much you like me too,” he looked up at you as he ran his knuckle down the crotch of your panties and that’s when you realized what he meant. You were wet through your panties.

Out of instinct, you began to close your legs when Harry held your thighs apart and tutted at you, “But guess what? I like you too. Want to get to know you real good, cherry. Wanna know just what you like and how you like it.”

You wiggled your toes as your heart pounded with your legs spread out for Harry to inspect as he pleased.

Harry looked up at you, letting go of your thighs, and began to unzip his jeans, “Wanna see how much I like you?”

You nodded and laughed nervously as you watched him peel his jeans off and you could see the clear erection under his briefs. It was curved to the left a bit, tucked under the band of his underwear until he reached his hand in and positioned his cock upward.

You swallowed. You weren’t sure where to look. His strong thighs, his soft abs, his muscled pecs, or the glorious thick erection bulging at this underwear.

Tonight was your lucky night you decided.

“See? Pretty good match yeah?” He grinned as he smoothed his hands over your thighs again and up to your panties, “What do you want, Y/n? Should we take this further?”

You nodded, “Yes.”

He licked his lips again as he looked at your pretty face, “Okay. How far do you want to go with me?”

You inhaled and blinked your eyes. You wanted it all. Wanted whatever he wanted. Hoped he wanted to fuck you with that big thing but you weren’t sure that’s what he meant. Maybe he didn’t–“

Harry leaned over you and cupped your jaw gently, “Seems you’re overthinking a little so I’ll make this easy for you. I’ll tell you what I want and you just tell me if you like that or not. Okay?”

You nodded.

“First I want to touch you, under your panties. Get my fingers nice and wet, finger you a little. Then I want to taste it. Lick you up and down, make you feel good. Then I want to take you to my bed and have loud sex with you so everyone can hear how good I’m making you feel, how good you’re making me feel. Sound good?”

A cracked moan fell from your lips as you nodded, “Yeah. I like that.”

Harry’s grin widened as he let go of your face and brought both hands down to your panties, “Good. Then let’s get rid of these.”

You felt the wetness on the fabric as they were moved down your legs and then Harry’s fingers were running through your labia up and down. His eyes focused on your bare pussy.

When he pressed over your clit he watched your face and hissed when he saw your brows scrunch up and your lips part, “Right there, yeah? You like that?”

You nodded with your bottom lip bit into your mouth, looking from his face to where his thumb was pressed.

He used his free hand to push at your thigh as he continued stroking his fingers up and down, glazing his digits in your arousal before you felt him press at your entrance slowly.

“Open up for me, cherry… there we go, sweet girl. Fuck me…” he watched as he pressed two fingers inside slowly, your pussy wet and puffy. “So pretty. Look at tha’” he watched his fingers slide in and out and back in to his knuckles with the gushy sound of your pussy being fucked by his fingers.

“Oh god…” you breathed out your words when he put his thumb back over your clit and began to press and circle as he continued pressing his fingers through your walls.

And the way he fingered you was only making you more wet, making you feel desperate. You moaned and ran your hands up your tummy to your tits, as you watched Harry’s arms flex as he fucked his fingers into you and stroked your front wall.

“Fuck that smells so good, cherry,” he kept his eyes on your cunt as he lowered himself down, “Gotta have some of this.”

It couldn’t have gotten any better than it was. Harry’s fingers already felt better than they should’ve but it did, in fact, get better. Because his big mouth and wide tongue on your clit had you unable to think straight as you let out a whine.

He kept his long fingers inside of you as he focused his lips and tongue on your clit. He could have taught a masterclass on cunnilingus. Even your toy didn’t feel like this. And it was a really good toy.

“Oh fuck!” You cried when he sucked your clit gently, using his tongue to press as he did so. The sound was lewd with his mouth on your pussy and his fingers tucked deep inside of you.

You’d need to bring him with you everywhere if this was how he did it. That toy was not going to cut it now that you’d felt how good it could really be.

When you’d finally lifted your head to look down at him you saw his eyes already opened, looking up at you as he swiped his tongue over your button, pink lips winding over your pussylips and up to your clit.

He let go of your thigh as he reached up for one of your hands and pushed his fingers between yours. You clung to his hand tight and gasped.

The gesture was so intimate, so sexy. It felt like everything he was doing was truly to make you feel good. He wasn’t rushing to get you off. The care and attention he gave you made you feel hot and shaky.

You couldn’t take your eyes off his as he worked your pussy and you began to shake.

You were putty in his hands. Totally unable to stop the unwinding of the tight coil in your tummy as you squeezed his hand and he moaned into your cunt.

And it happened so fast. The snap of your orgasm seemed to even shock Harry as his eyes widened when you began to come in his mouth.

He kept his mouth on you and his fingers inside of you as you cried out and threw your head back. He didn’t let go of your hand, keeping you grounded as every other part of you liquified and then evaporated into the atmosphere. The only parts of your body that remained intact, throbbing, and aching were your pussy and your hand. Only the parts he touched were whole. Everything else was hot liquid soaked into the couch.

Your chest heaved and your brain was fuzzy as he finally pulled his fingers from your hole and looked down at you, “Did you come?” The grin on his face told you he was being playful.

You laughed as you watched him wipe the edge of his mouth with his thumb and lick the mess up, his eyes on you.

And just like he said he wanted to do, he took you to his bed. He helped you up onto your wobbly legs and then kissed your lips, smearing your arousal all over your mouth. The kiss did nothing to make your legs feel solid but rather made you feel even weaker. So his assistance was very much needed to put you into his bed.

His room was lit with a lamp and his sheets felt clean as he pulled the blankets back for you and tucked a pillow under your head.

You watched him take his underwear off and then pull a condom from his drawer before he climbed onto the bed next to you, “Still want more?” He raised his brows at you in question.

You nodded and smiled, “Yeah. I do.” You couldn’t take your eyes off his cock, though. You absolutely wanted more. You wanted the whole shebang and if there was anything you knew about Harry it was that he could provide exactly that.

He grinned at you as he tore the wrapper and gripped himself at the tip, stroking down to coat himself in the bit of precome that had leaked from his slit before putting the condom over his impossibly hard cock. His entire cock was thick. From tip to base. It looked… heavy. It looked like it was going to tear you in half.

Harry watched as you ogled him. He didn’t mind. He was pretty proud of it himself. As he pushed himself up to his knees he pulled your legs apart and settled between your thighs.

He pushed his hips in close to yours and let his cock fall over your pelvis and up to your low tummy, measuring his size in comparison to you. You looked down from where his daunting cock lay heavy over you up to his face.

“I want it…” you breathed your words and Harry’s dimples smiled as he smirked at you.

“Oh, yeah? Want my cock inside your pussy, Cherry? Wanna feel it all the way up here?” He pressed over your low tummy and you moaned loudly.

Harry moved his hips back and then gripped his base as he dragged his cock through your drenched pussy, “Want me to fuck this soft pussy, slip in and out until you can’t handle it anymore?”

You nodded, “Please…”

“Please? How sweet. You are a sweet girl, aren’t you? I like sweet girls, Cherry, and you might be the sweetest one yet.”

Harry teased your pussy some more, his cockhead smoothing up and down, pushing your arousal up to your clit until you began to squirm under him and let out a small whimper.

He laughed as he finally stopped torturing you and pressed his thick crown to your entrance, pressing his bulbous crown to your entrance before he began to push through your tight, wet ring.

You gasped when you felt him entering you, slowly pushing your insides apart until he was tucked deep inside of you. He let out a deep breath when he finally had the luxury of feeling your hot pussy wrapped around him.

He thrust in again, bottoming out until his balls pressed against your ass. And again. And again.

He worked you open until he was satisfied that you were ready for more and then he leaned over you, his hands down next to your shoulders with his eyes on you, and began sinking into you so deep you thought you saw stars limning your vision.

“Your pussy feels just as good as it tastes, Cherry,” he moaned before he began to rock into you with more force, and you could hear the sound of his body smacking into yours each time he plunged in.

“Umph…” you grunted when he dipped in sharp.

“Yeah? Deep isn’t it? Pussy needed stuffed properly. Hm?”

Your body was being pounded into and there were no words that could form on your lips as your tits jolted up and down.

“Let me hear you, Cherry. Let me hear how good it feels. I can tell your pussy loves this, so wet and puffy for me…” his voice was shaky as he railed into you, “Am I treating you right, baby?”

You coughed out a moan and nodded your head as you held on to his forearms, “God! Fuck yes, Harry! Oh fuck!”

Harry’s own moan was loud as he watched your face twist up and listened to the way your pussy took his big cock.

“Yeah? Fuck that feels good, doesn’t it? Pretty thing was made to be fucked. Pussy so sweet needs to have her insides split open every day. Hm?” Harry was breathing hard between words.

“Oh my god… yes. Yes!”

Harry sat back onto his haunches and pulled you up so you were sitting on his lap as he spread his thighs for leverage to continue fucking into you. You yelped at the change of position and how deep he felt inside.

The new angle had his tip slamming into your guts and you grabbed onto his strong shoulders while his hands held your ass, guiding you over him.

Your body flopped up and down on his cock and against his pelvis as he sunk into you over and over again, his hips hammering up into yours.

You began to roll your hips down, smushing your button against him for friction as he continued thrusting upward.

When you finally let out a choked moan Harry gasped and pulled you in by the back of your neck to kiss your mouth. Soft licks against your tongue as your pussy was getting fucked into, had you beginning to shake and fall off the edge of the earth again.

Harry parted from the kiss and held you down on his lap, keeping his dick nudged against your cervix, “Already, Cherry?” He gently rolled upward, “Gonna come on my cock so soon? Can you hold off for a bit longer?”

You sucked in a sharp breath, “Yes. Sorry.”

“Shh… shh… Nothing to be sorry about. Means you like it,” he rutted up into you with a grin before laying you down to your back again, pushing your legs apart.

He began to push into you, his hips slamming against yours making his bed creak and your pussy clench around him. You didn’t know if you could hang on much longer as your thighs began to quiver. His cock was coaxing another orgasm from your body without you even focusing on it, which you normally had to do when you had sex. It was as if you had no say in whether your body should come or not.

“Shit!” He slowed his motions a little and leaned over you to brush his fingers along your cheekbone, “Are you okay?” He laughed as he asked.

You nodded, “I’m gonna come, Harry. I’m sorry I can’t stop it. If you fuck me like that…” Your rounded eyes and heavy breaths had Harry’s heart feverishly pounding.

“It’s okay. You’re not doing anything wrong, Cherry. You just needed a good fucking didn’t you?”

You nodded and pulled your lips into your mouth.

“Yeah. That’s good, then. We’ll give you a nice good fucking,” he slowly pulled out to his tip and languidly moved himself back in making you moan.

“We can go nice and slow,” he repeated his motions, his thighs flexing as he held himself steady to fuck into you in long strokes, “Getting you all creamy. Hear it, Cherry?”

You did hear it as you nodded with a whine. The wetness coming from your pussy. The way his cock fucked your cream into your cunt. The way it sounded when he buried himself into the hilt and ground his hips against yours.

Harry watched your face scrunch up and your moans grow louder as he pushed his way into your tummy until he knew you couldn’t hold on any longer.

He sat back and fucked into you faster as he pressed his hand over your tummy, putting pressure on the spot where his cock was sliding through your insides and you lost it. You cried out his name and gurgles of nonsense as the frame of the bed began to rock into the wall and Harry coughed out a laugh at the way you began to thrash around on his cock.

He watched as he rutted into you, his cock disappearing into your cunt, your slick arousal all over his base and in his pubic hair.

You clamped down on him with your legs wobbly and he felt your walls contracting, squeezing his cock tight. He snapped his hips forward, pressing through your spasming cunt as his balls slapped into your ass and he moaned with you.

“Fuck! There you go, honey! Coming on my cock, yeah? Oh shit…” he watched your body press up each time he slammed into you, your face in ecstasy, and your wet pussy swallowing him whole as he finally began to come, releasing into his condom with a groan, “Draining my cock, cherry. Ohhh, ffff…”

Harry punched through your slick opening with the thick crown of his cock as he gushed into the rubber surrounding his dick until he stilled his hips and ground into you, swiveling in circles to empty every drop of himself.

You could feel him pumping inside of you, the heavy throbbing in his dick as he unloaded his sperm.

You both gasped when you’d finished and he lowered himself to kiss you hard. His hands cradled your face as his sensitive dick twitched inside of you.

Lifting your knees you wrapped your legs around his low back and he brought you down to your side, leaving you both connected fully, still kissing, his cock still deep inside of you.

The wave of euphoria that covered your entire being had you feeling so relaxed and so at peace you sighed and pushed your fingers into his hair.

You were surprised by your reaction to how he fucked you. And you wished you could have gone longer but he was so good, or… you didn’t know what it was exactly.

Harry parted from the kiss, keeping his face close to yours, “Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you’re not comfortable with it.”

You nodded, “Yeah.”

“How long has it been since you’ve had sex? I don’t mean masturbating either. Just curious.”

You squinted and looked toward the corner of the room before putting your eyes back on his, “Like, maybe a year? Something like that.”

Harry’s thumb grazed your cheek, “A year? So that means when you were living with K at that time you hadn’t had sex since before that even.”

You grinned and nodded, “I was in university. It was my senior year and I was super focused. And it just didn’t happen.”

“Poor thing. No wonder you were so sensitive to me. Came so fast, Cherry.”

You laughed, “I know. It’s never been like that before. Surprised me too.”

“I’m glad we met again. Feels like we should honor the universe and stick together for a while. Stay the night with me?”

You puffed out a laugh and rolled your eyes, “Let’s honor the universe. Obviously, she wants us to have sex and hang out.”

Harry watched your eyes crinkle up as you grinned and he chuckled, “She really does. I’m sure of it. So that’s a yes?”

You scratched your nails along the back of Harry’s head and smiled at him, “It’s definitely a yes.”

. .

Feedback/Thoughts | Main Masterlist | Patreon

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like 💕

Tags: @yousunshineyoutempter @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swiftmendeshoran @tiaamberxx @closureesny

@angelbabyyy99 @malwtilda @itjustkindahappenedreally @onlyangellucifer @harryistheonlyoneforme

@butdaddyilovehim-hs @lc-fics @hannahdressedasabanana @babegoalsreads @harrrrystylesslut

@elidoho @gotdrxnkonu @cathy-1997 @imgonnadreamaboutthewayyoutaaaa @angeldavis777

@lillefroe @monicaalexandraaa @hsonlyangelxo @brittanyzelazno @lemoncrushh

@caynonmoondreams @mellamolayla @ladscarlett @heartateasee @littlenatilda

@finelinepie @michellekstyles @harrysredroom @harrydeary @mrs-anna-styles211994

@devilsqueen722 @bananabk9756 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @idkkkkkkk123lgb @freedomfireflies

@fruity-harry @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @mema10 @gmikaelson

[pinkboaclub]

Sweet Thing [prequal blurb]

Summery: You and Harry are best friends, despite your 15 year age gap. He asks you to be his date at a work party, but doesn’t realize how possessive he just may be.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: older!harry, angst then fluff, age gap (15 years), possessiveness, fem!reader

"Pretty dress for a pretty girl," Harry's voice came from the doorway.

You stood in front of the mirror, carefully adjusting the fabric of your dress. The material clung to you in all the right ways. A swirl of nerves knotted in your stomach, making you second-guess your choice.

You glanced at him in the reflection, feeling a little unsure. "It’s not too much, is it?"

He moved closer, his footsteps light, his eyes never leaving you. "Not at all. You look perfect." His lips kissed your head as his hand gently rested on your shoulder.

Harry had invited you as his date to a work party he was hosting. You’d met a few of his colleagues in passing, but never like this, never as Harry’s date. The thought alone made your palms a little sweaty.

You adjusted your hair and gave yourself one last look in the mirror, making sure your makeup was just right. With a final spritz of perfume, you took a steadying breath and linked your arm with Harry’s. He gave a warm and reassuring smile and led you downstairs.

"Such a gentleman," you teased as he opened the front door for you and guided you into the passenger seat of his car.

He chuckled. "Someone has to be."

The drive was quiet but comforting. Harry was always at ease, making small talk about work, the city, anything to fill the space. When you arrived at the venue, he did the same, opening the car door with an easy grace before helping you step out onto the red carpeted walkway.

"Shall we?" he asked, offering his arm with a charming grin.

You giggled and nodded, slipping your hand through his and walked into the party.

Once inside, the atmosphere was very shiny, polished, full of people wearing smiles that were just a little too perfect. The men shook hands, the women glided in their gowns, and everyone seemed to be in conversation for the sole purpose of making connections.

It wasn’t long before you were swept away by some of the wives, pulling you into their circle.

They didn’t waste any time with small talk, quickly asking you about Harry. "So, how long have you and Harry been dating?" one of them asked.

"Oh, we’re just friends."

The woman blinked at you in surprise. "Really? But you’ve…well, you’ve slept together, right?" She bluntly asked.

The question hit you like a splash of ice cold water. You shifted uncomfortably but kept your composure. "No, we haven’t."

Her eyebrows arched, and she let out a knowing laugh, that was almost condescending. "Well, you could have fooled me."

You had no idea how to respond. Before you could get any words out, another one of the wives chimed in, dragging the conversation in another direction.

Meanwhile, Harry was engaged in a conversation with Eric, a colleague of his.

"She's beautiful, Harry," Eric commented as he raised his glass, a smirk on his face. "How long have you two been together?"

Harry stiffened just the slightest bit before answering, without thinking, he lied, embellishing the truth. "A couple of months. But we’ve been friends for a while."

Eric raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the distinction. Harry wasn’t an idiot. He knew Eric had eyes on you, despite him being 50 and you being 23. He knew he had no right to interfere, he should have let you reject Eric yourself, but he couldn’t help it.

Later in the night, you found yourself conversing alone with Eric. He was charming and handsome, a silver fox, but something about him made you uneasy.

"You and Harry seem like a great couple," Eric remarked, a glint of something almost predatory in his eyes.

You laughed, trying to keep the conversation light. "Oh, we’re not a couple."

He blinked in surprise. "Really? Harry told me you two were dating.”

“Uh, no, we’re close friends, he asked me to be his date tonight.”

Well, if you’re single, can I get your number? I’d love to take you out." He pulled out his phone, the screen glowing in the dim lighting.

It wasn’t that you were actively avoiding relationships, but you certainly weren’t looking for one at the moment. Still, you didn’t want to make things uncomfortable, especially since you didn’t have the ‘I have a boyfriend’ excuse anymore.

"Sure," you said with a smile, though your body tensed up. You grabbed his phone, typing in your number.

From across the room, Harry’s eyes locked onto the scene. His face darkened, though he kept his distance, the line of his jaw tight.

The rest of the night felt like an endless loop of small talk, but something in Harry’s demeanor had shifted. He was quieter, more reserved around you, though he wasn’t outright rude. You noticed it, the way he was almost avoiding you, his answers shorter, less engaging. But you didn’t have time to dwell on it as the night was already winding down.

"Not really in the mood to stay, bunny." he muttered in your ear, his voice tired.

You nodded. The drive back was silent, but the tension between you both was thick enough to feel like it was pressing against your chest.

"Harry," you began, hesitating, "Why did you tell Eric we’re dating?"

He didn’t immediately respond, his fingers tight on the steering wheel. "Are you really thinking about going with him?" he asked, his voice quiet, but his words sharp.

You raised an eyebrow, playing along. "I don’t know. He’s kind of cute. Do you have a problem with that?"

Harry’s gaze flickered to you for a moment, his lips curling into a tight, frustrated smile. "He’s too old for you," he muttered under his breath.

You didn’t bite back immediately, instead choosing to remind him, "We have a pretty big age gap, you know."

Harry’s eyes flashed, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the wheel. "He’s 50, I’m 38. And he’s just trying to bone a 23-year-old before never talking to you again."

The words stung a bit, you felt a sharp pang in your chest. It wasn’t just the age comment, but the way he spoke about it…like you were some sort of object for Eric to claim and discard.

You were already pulling at the door handle by the time the car came to a stop in front of the house, your silence louder than any words. Without saying anything, you stepped out and headed inside, your heart thumping as you retreated to the bathroom to shower.

Harry immediately regretted his words, he had let his emotions get to him. He decided to wait outside the bathroom door, which was connected to his room, and wait for you so he could apologize. He sat on his bed quietly, replaying the words in his mind, guilt flowing through him.

After a few minutes, you emerged in your pajamas, your wet hair dripping slightly. Without a word, Harry pulled you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you as he buried his face in your neck.

"I’m sorry," he murmured, his voice filled with regret. "I didn’t mean what I said earlier. I just…I just feel protective of you. And I never meant to imply that Eric only sees you for your age and not how perfect you are, sweet thing."

You relaxed into his embrace, a soft smile tugging at your lips as his lips started to travel around your body. His kisses were gentle as they went down your face, across your cheeks, your forehead, then back to your neck, making you giggle and squirm.

"I forgive you," you whispered, your voice light, the tension finally slipping away. “And for the record, I wasn’t actually considering going on a date with him, you’re the only old man I want in my life.”

He laughed out, more guilt rushing through his body, thinking about how much he overreacted when you weren’t even being serious.

“I love you, sweet thing, I promise not to cock block you the next time you’re about to get some…even if the dick is old enough to be your father.”

[read more of Sweet Thing here!] [and here!]

Tag List:

@mema10

@lizsogolden

[jarofstyles]

Benefits II

Hi my ducklings, here is part two to Benefits.

Or, Y/N is shy about the agreement they’d made and Harry isn’t afraid to call her out on it.

first part to Benefits Here

Check out our Patreon for early access and 230+ exclusive posts!

WC- 3.4k

Warnings- asshole h, degradation, mean!Dom, slight humiliation, exhibitionism, name calling

---

As she stood at the bar sipping her drink and keeping up with the chatter of their friends, she could feel his eyes on her. It was a sensation she was becoming quite familiar with. She knew he was watching her from across the room, his dark gaze following her every move, and it made her skin heat under the surface. It was exactly why she made sure to arch her back slightly, ensuring her ass looked its absolute best in the tight jeans she was wearing.

The memory of his strong, brutal hands gripping her hips, guiding her movements as he took her from behind sent a shiver down her spine. Taking another sip of her drink, she tried to act casual despite the fire of arousal pooling in her core. Every so often, she'd glance in his direction, catching his unfaltering gaze before looking away with a barely there smile. The thrill of knowing what they'd shared, knowing what it felt like to have his mouth and hands on her while he pressed her into the sheets, all the while keeping up appearances in front of their friends, was intoxicating.

Harry did look particularly delicious tonight, his broad shoulders and muscular frame emphasized by the fitted shirt he was wearing. She remembered the feeling of those strong, inked arms wrapped around her, holding her close as he whispered filthy things in her ear that had her blushing just thinking about. No one had ever treated her the way he had. The way his broad body had covered hers, pinning her down as he claimed her so thoroughly. She squirmed slightly, pressing her thighs together as a wave of want washed over her.

Said tight black t-shirt showcased his tattoos beautifully, the sleeve of ink snaking down his left arm. She remembered tracing those tattoos with her fingers as he lay beside her, recovering after they’d both found release. He’d been surprisingly polite post sex considering his usual demeanor, making sure to clean her up and keep her steady, giving her a snack and taking her back to hers in his car to make sure she got home safely. But she didn’t need to think about that. His well-built arms were on display, the muscles flexing subtly as he cradled his beer bottle. She remembered the feel of those arms and hands, every blow, knead, squeeze, stroke and paw, the thrill of being held down still buzzing in her stomach.

It was crowded out tonight though, and she lost her window in seeing him much too soon. The bar was growing warmer by the moment, the press of bodies and the stifling atmosphere becoming a bit too much for her in particular- especially with the added heat of her body that was unable to let go of the illicit memories swirling through her cloudy brain. Excusing herself from the group, she slipped out the back door onto the quiet, dimly lit alley behind the bar. She leaned against the brick wall, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath of the cool night air, taking a second to unbutton the top two buttons of her blouse, fanning herself to try and cool down.

It was hard to concentrate on anything when was so lost in her thoughts- so much so that she didn't hear the door open. Startled, she looked up to see Harry walking towards her, the door swinging shut behind him. "Fuck! You scared me.” she hissed, clutching at her chest. Her heart pounded in her ears as she took in his towering form, the shadows cast by the dim light behind him only serving to emphasize his size.

“Didn’t mean to.” He murmured, arms crossed against his chest. The same arms she had been drooling over the whole night. “Y’alright?” Tilting his head, he looked her over before returning to her face. “Or did you jus’ want me to follow you out here.”

She bit her lower lip, considering his words. "No, I...I just needed some air. It's so hot in there," she explained, gesturing vaguely back towards the door. Her eyes flicked down to his biceps, something he had to be aware he was doing to her. It had been apparent that he was far more observant than she was, and he was using that to his advantage. She swallowed hard, meeting his gaze once more. 

“Y’didn’t text me this week.” He stepped closer, pulling the pack of cigarettes from his pocket along with the lighter. “Were you busy? Or did you just want me t’fuck off?”

She shook her head, eyes widening a bit as she reached out to take the cigarette he offered. He lit it for her, his fingers brushing against hers as he did so. "I wasn't busy," she admitted, taking a long drag on the cigarette. "I just...I didn't know if you wanted to hear from me or not." She looked up at him through the haze of smoke. It was weird to be confronted like this, to know someone else had so much power over her body in ways she doubted he could control. "I didn't want to assume."

Letting out a snort, he reached for the cigarette in her fingers, ignoring the lipstick on it and brought it to his lips. Letting her words linger, he took a pull before exhaling the bitter smoke and letting it drift away. “It isn’t an assumption. Told ya I wanted t’be friends with benefits. Left it in your court.” He didn’t want to seem like a complete ass just running to her for sex, but… “Should’ve called me. Texted, whatever. Could’ve had a little fun instead of runnin’ off to the alley cause you’ve been squeezing your thighs half the night while lookin’ at me when you think m’not.”

Y/N blushed furiously, taking the cigarette back from him. "I- I wasn't," she stammered, avoiding his piercing gaze. "It's just...hot in there." He raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. Like he could read right through her brain, analyze every filed thought she had put in there- even If it wasn’t very well organized. Harry knew better and there was no use in hiding it. She sighed, taking another drag. "Fine. Yes. I've been...thinking about last weekend. A lot." She met his eyes, her own filled with defeat.

“Good. So have I.” He leaned against the brick as he watched her smoke. “We should keep doing it, like I said. Y’don’t have to wear the jeans that hug your ass and give me looks across the room t’get what you want. You can jus’ tell me you want to be fucked.” Letting out a hum, he reached out to tuck her hair behind her ear. “Would’ve been happy to do so. Been worked up. Think both of us coulda’ used the stress relief.”

Shivering at his words, her body reacted to the raw, blunt way he spoke. Something about it had her feeling it down to her toes. No one else spoke to her like that, let alone so vulgar in the way he did, but it didn’t meant she didn’t like it. Y/N took another drag of the cigarette, her fingers trembling slightly. "You're insane." She muttered, but there was no heat behind her words. "Fine, I'll let you know. Next time." She dropped her gaze to his lips, remembering how they felt against hers. Against her neck. Against her thighs… God, why did he make her feel this way? It was alarming. "And for the record, I like these jeans. Not everything I wear is for your attention." The jeans definitely were for his attention, though. She just wouldn’t admit it.

“Wasn’t complaining about the jeans, Sweetheart.” They did hug her perfectly. Then again, most things did if she bothered to ask him his opinion. “I wouldn’t complain if you let me inside of ‘em tonight. Though…” Dragging his finger down her hot cheek, he curled it around her chin to tilt it up. “I think you’d let me if I wanted to.”

She let out a soft hum as he tilted her chin up. "And what if you wanted to?" The thought of him pushing her up against the wall right here, hiking down her jeans and taking her roughly, was almost enough to make her beg. "Would you? Want to, I mean." Her voice was quiet, her breath catching in her throat as he looked down at her.

The reward for the sweet voice she gave him was one of his rare smiles, shaking his head at the girl that had made tonight far more difficult than she needed to. “Mm. I’ve wanted to since you walked in. But we don’t have enough time t’fuck considering one of the nosy brats will come looking.” He looked to the door and back to her. “So you can choose. Y’want me to slip my fingers into that pretty cunt? Or do you want to suck my cock.” It wasn’t a matter of being selfish, either. Harry had to have been oblivious to not have noticed how much she liked it last time. Called her his ‘pretty cockslut’, all the same.

Y/N glanced at the door, knowing they wouldn't have much time before someone came looking for her. It was a shame, too, because she had been wanting it all week. If her stupid insecurity hadn’t gotten in the way she was sure she’d have been able to get more than that prior to tonight bit… beggars couldn’t really be choosers. "Fingers," she breathed. "Please, just your fingers. I need it." She was desperate, her body aching for his touch. She reached out, grasping his wrist and pulling his hand to her waistband. "Now, please."

“Greedy.” He clicked his tongue. “Makin’ demands. Who says you could call the shots, hm?” His hand not captive by hers grubbed her chin firm, squeezing it enough to ensure he had her attention. “I’m the one in charge. S’all your fault, anyways. Could’ve gotten fucked half the week if you’d put your big girl panties on n’texted me.” The taunt had its desired effect as she rounded her eyes up at him. His fingers undid the button, palming over her tummy before slipping the fingers down and into her panties. “But think you caught me in a good mood tonight. Let’s see… How wet are you, mm?”

Her breath hitched as his calloused fingers pushed down into her underwear, slipping through her cunt with little hesitation. "It is your fault," she attempted to sass back, trying to regain some semblance of control. "For looking so...so menacing and hot." 

He chuckled darkly at her choice of words, his finger finding her soaking entrance and slipping inside. “Shut the fuck up, sweetheart.”

She moaned softly, her head falling back against the brick as it filled her. "Oh god, Harry." His single digit was the equivalent of two of hers. She’d tried well enough to recreate any feelings he’d given her that night throughout the week.

His fingers slid into her with ease, coating them in her arousal. She was absolutely drenched, clenching around him greedily, her body betraying just how desperately she had wanted his touch all night. Her juices smeared on his fingers and palm, the evidence of her desire unmistakable. "Fuck, you really are soaked, Y/N." Teeth grazing his lip, he crowded her against the wall, towering over her. “A little pathetic, don’t y’think?”

She whimpered needily as curled them just a tad, her hips rocking against his hand. "I can't help it," she gasped out, her voice thick with lust. "You just...you do this to me." Her hands fisted in his shirt, tugging him closer. "Please, Harry. I need more." The wet squelching sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of her dripping cunt could be heard if you listened close enough, stepping out into the alley.

“I know y’do. Needy little whore.” He cooed, making the word sound sweet. “Gonna have to be quick. Think you’re going to be able handle going back in there with all of ‘em, knowing you just got fingerfucked in the back alley? Like the slut you are?” Harry could tell just how much she liked it. He’d known just by her first interaction with him that she’d like this, but knowing they were compatible only made this even more fulfilling.

Her legs trembled lightly as he quickened his pace, his thumb swirling around her swollen clit. "Y-Yes," she stammered, her mind foggy with desire, his thick finger adding another inside to make her tear up. It was pathetic, as he said, but it wasn’t something she could help. It was just how he affected her. "Please, just...more. Harder. I'm so close." She could barely think straight, let alone care about the embarrassment of returning to the group. All she could focus on was the heat pooling in her belly and the intense pleasure he was wringing from her body. 

When it was over and her face was hot, her panties sticky, and her cum on his hand? She’d probably feel those nerves about facing everyone after being finger fucked half dumb in an alleyway. Especially after begging for it, loving the feel of his fingers digging into her jaw to keep her face tilted up towards him so he could watch her face- but that was part of the thrill, wasn’t it?

“Already?” He laughed in disbelief. “Fuck me. You really are filthy. Can’t believe it.” Curling his fingers up into her, he did what he could with the denim keeping his hand trapped. “Think m’gonna take you home after the night wraps up. Let you sit with your sticky cunt and think about how silly you were to not call me when you needed me so bad you’re making a mess out here. Think you still need t’suck me, don’t you?”

She let out a muffled cry as he curled his fingers upwards, her inner walls clamping down around him. "Yes, yes, I need it. I want to." she whimpered, feeling his fingers lessen on her face and making her head falling into his chest. Her release was building rapidly, the coil in her belly tightening with each thrust of his hand. "Harry, please, I'm going to-"

“You’re going to what?” He taunted, pulling her head back by the hair. “C’mon, good girl. Those lips are good for more than sucking cock, aren’t they? Y’like to talk all night to everyone else. Talk.” 

She choked out a moan as he pulled her head back, her body shaking with the force of her impending orgasm. "I'm going to cum.”

“Say please.” He reprimanded. “You can do better than that. You’re so polite with everyone else too. Where are the manners for me?” The tone was condescending, cruel, and it made her want to cum. He could feel it as she pulsed around his fingers. “Where is that sweet girl, hm? Or do I only get the slut t’night?”

She whimpered, her face contorting with the effort to hold back. "P-please, Harry. Please, may I come? Please?" The words tumbled out of her mouth, desperate and needy and everything she knew he wanted despite the desperation. "I can't hold back, please. I need-" Her cry was muffled by his hand, clamping over her mouth as her orgasm hit her with full force. She bucked against his hand, her body clinging to his as waves of pleasure washed over her. Her inner muscles milked his fingers, more of her cum coating his fingers.

She let out a soft mewl against his palm as he buried his fingers deep one final time, pressing her firmly against the brick to keep her up. Holding her trembling body as she came down from her high, he gave quiet reassurance as he felt her pulse around his digits.

She sagged against him, her body boneless in the aftermath of her intense release. She nuzzled into his chest, her breath hitching as he slowly withdrew his fingers, feeling the wet smear as he pulled it out of her panties. He’d made a mess out of her. She whimpered at the loss, her eyes fluttering shut as he showed her the slick coating them. "That's...that's embarrassing." she murmured, her face hot as she leaned her head back from him to rest on the wall.

“S’not.” He muttered, sucking the wetness from his digits with a soft hum. “Told you. Think I like you a little bit pathetic. Makes my cock hard. You do a good job.”

What did it say about her that she felt slightly giddy over the thought of him being turned on by her needy behavior? That Y/N felt a thrill of excitement at the idea of being his pathetic little thing? She reached out, her hand shaking as she tried to clean his fingers with her thumb. Her brain was jumbled and the air felt much warmer now, making her take a few breaths as the pieces of the puzzle came back together as her body joined her back down on earth. "So you’re…. um, when we’re done, we’re leaving together?"

“Yeah.” He wiped the remnants of her on his jeans, using the clean hand to fix her hair. “Think you can behave long enough without my cock t’get through the rest of the night?”

She bit her lip, her eyes flicking down to the bulge in his jeans. "I'll try," she promised, her voice still holding a bit of breathlessness to it. Y/N had to wonder if she’d ever truly have the upper hand but… did she actually want to? Having him control her in ways everyone else had failed was really fucking nice. "But you can't look at me like that. And...and you have to behave too." She reached out, tracing the seam of his zipper over his cock. "Can you? Behave, I mean." She knew he was as eager as she was.

“I can.” He shot her a look, putting his hand over hers to place her palm over his cock. “M’not the greedy, crying slut here. I can wait until we leave.”

Her touch grew firmer as she wrapped her hand around his erection through his pants. "But what if I can't wait?" she taunted, her voice low. "What if I want to touch you right now? What would you do?" She leaned in close, her breath hot against his ear. "Would you push me to my knees?" She slowly unbuttoned his pants, her knuckles brushing against his hard flesh.

Her seduction was halted when she felt the large hand wrapping around her throat. It wasn’t too rough, pushing her back and crowding her against the wall with his body, but she felt the thrill as his voice emerged as a dark snarl. “I said, we’re waiting. Don’t be a fucking brat or you won’t get my cock in your throat tonight. I know you’re gagging for it.” His breath washed against her lips. “But if you ask me real sweet, I’ll let you taste my tongue before I take your horny ass inside.”

Her pulse jumped under his fingers. The threat in his words sent a shiver down her spine, even as her cunt clenched with renewed need. Y/N searched his eyes, seeing the barely restrained hunger there. "Please, Harry?" she breathed, her voice trembling. "Can I taste your tongue? I promise I'll be good for the rest of the night."

What had this man done to her? 

Usually Y/N was the one who left men begging- but this borderline asshole of a man ruined her panties just by calling her pathetic. She wasn’t sure what was happening, but she knew it was something she’d worry about later. “There y’go. seems like you can listen to direction after all.” His hand around her throat tightened possessively as he crushed his mouth to hers. His tongue pushed past her parted lips, licking against hers in a filthy slick over. Y/N moaned softly, her arms winding around his neck as she pulled him closer. The kiss was wet, messy, and full of promise that made her knees feel weak. She didn’t want it to end, not even for a second- but when he finally pulled back, they were both breathless. "I'll be good. I promise."

[glitteredrry]

sugar honey kisses

summary: harry’s next tour is joined by a special guest that has taken over his life and the world.

warning: brief mention of infertility/ miscarriage & fluff

wc: 3k+

a.n. i’ve been in a writing slump, and i just thought of this. i kind of went overboard (sorry). please excuse any spelling errors. i hope you enjoy these little blurbs. i was missing our harry, and i’m secretly manifesting another tour for us. byeee see y’all soon. 🤍

1. breaking news

Harry sat in the studio stuck on a verse on the last song to his album. He was gearing up to the release of his 4th studio album, and tour. Love on tour was going to be hard to top, but he looked forward to how this tour was going to be. He felt that he was in a better era of his life, all he hoped was that his growth would reflect on this new album. Fans were begging him to come back, and soon their prayers would be answered. His management was going to be releasing the album release date at 9 P.M. tonight. As he thoughtfully bite on the arm of his glasses, in walked in his wife YN. Harry’s eyes shot up looking at her happy to finally see her for the first time today, he had an early studio time today and only was able to give her a kiss to her head as she slept. Harry’s happiness quickly turned to nervousness as he saw a disheveled YN walking closer to him. “Doll, what’s wrong?” As she came in arm’s width from him, he grabbed onto her, and guided her to sit in his lap. Taking the tips of his fingers, he moved her hair out of her face as he watched her eyes tear up. Which only caused him to be more worried, “Harry, I wish I would've waited to tell you but I can’t.” YN reached down in her purse to grab something, and once it was shown to Harry he felt as if his heart rate had tripled in a split second.

“We’re pregnant.” She whispered to him with a smile. Harry was speechless as he stared at the test, he couldn't believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. “You’re serious,” YN nodded, touching his face for some solace. “I’m absolutely serious, we have half of us here.” She grabbed his hand holding him to her stomach. Harry’s tears came crashing down as he laid on her chest still accepting that they were with child. Joy rang through Harry’s body as he felt his wife’s comforting touch all over him. Harry reelected on their journey of building their family, going into everything they thought it would be so easy to add a baby; Yet that was the furthest thing than what it was.

After the loss of two children you never got to meet, Harry had been grief ridden for his wife. YN had the optimism Harry couldn’t bear to have during that time. She tried her best to keep him determined that they would one day have a child. They had tried for two years straight, and as of 10 months ago they stopped deliberately trying, and just left it to divine timing. There were doctor appointments to see if something was off with either of them and everything came back clear. The couple tried IVF, and that also wasn’t for them. Harry couldn’t believe that YN was sitting here pregnant after all this time. Harry quickly remembered his album and tour that was supposed to happen, and panic rushed through him. “I-I need to push back the album. I'll call Jeff, and tell him to postpone the tour.” “Absolutely not, you’re not pushing anything back, H. You’re releasing the album, and you’re going on tour. This baby will have to fit into our lives, we’re going to have a tour baby.” Harry smiled at his wife hugging her tightly, he didn’t know how this was going to happen. All he knew is that he loved and trusted his wife. If he had her he could get through anything.

2. trending topic

The world was preparing for the release of the album “Saturn Return”. He had given it that title because he believed he was in his life's peak. Harry was elated as he did his press tour. He felt reconnected to his fans in a way where he had missed them. As Harry was in the green room preparing for his last appearance before the album dropped, Harry’s manager, Jeff walked into the room with his phone in hand. “We have a slight situation going on. Pictures of YN leaving her gym class were released today. She looks visibly pregnant in them. I could release a statement to the press to calm the media, or we can ignore it.”

Harry was furious because he knew that where YN was pictured was an alley. She tried her best to be as inconspicuous as she could. YN was bent over, tying her shoe, and her shirt came up, revealing her growing belly. “I’m sure she’s going to be upset at herself,” Harry kissed his teeth, hating that he would have to break the news of this to his wife. As he continued scrolling online, he saw how fans defended their beloved YN, and Harry appreciated the support at this time. Harry looked at the time and would have to be out there in five minutes. So, he quickly dialed YN. When she answered the phone, Harry explained what had just happened, and the couple decided that the media wouldn’t push them to say anything. This was for them to reveal when they wanted to. Harry rushed to the stage as Jeff followed him, “I want you to make sure there are no questions about what is out right now, no family questions in general. Understood?” He said to Jeff sternly.

As not only a husband but now a father it was his duty to protect his unborn child. Jeff nodded and spread the message. Not commenting on this assumption from the press didn’t make it die down. It only brought more media attention to the couple. On the night of the album release, Harry decided to have a private dinner in New York to celebrate his achievement. YN wore a dress that took attention away from her bump, but as the couple approached the restaurant, paparazzi attacked the couple, asking questions, and someone hit YN, making her nearly fall to the ground. “Move back. Get the fuck away from her,” he created a barrier around YN, making sure she was on her feet. “You okay, doll?” “I’m fine. That just scared me.” Harry held her hand, pressing a brief kiss to her hand as they walked through the door. The media only got worse as time went on. He knew that they wouldn’t stop until they had an answer. So, YN thought of a way to announce the tour that Harry couldn’t resist. Harry’s hand hovered over the “share” button on Instagram as he looked at his wife. “You sure?” “Yes, press it, Harry. It’s now or never.” Harry hit the button and shut off his phone. Within ten minutes of the post being out, the couple was trending on Twitter with one simple post.

Laugh On Tour. Coming 2025. +1.

3. not your average gender reveal

YN had just become accustomed to tour life, and she would soon be leaving to prepare to give birth. Harry pampered her throughout the tour, ensuring she had her own dressing room to cater to all her needs. YN was sad to say she would leave the tour, but soon, her baby would be here. Harry took it seriously that he wouldn’t have YN flying for the last two months of her pregnancy. In the four months, YN had been on tour with Harry, fans loved pregnant YN content. She was considered a style icon with her looks not only during their time off but at shows. YN would sometimes be recorded more at his shows than him, as fans would see her on the side of the stage dancing with her pregnant belly. Harry often joked with fans and asked them about his dad's jokes and if he needed to improve them. Fans would boo or cheer, and it became a fun section of the show. “How about that one, honey?” Harry asked YN on the mic, putting her on blast. As the fans turned their attention to YN, her reaction would be what the audience followed with. YN shook her head and threw out a thumbs down. Then, the crowd followed with booing. “I love constructive criticism. I’ll work on a better one. I’m trying to make my baby laugh when they get here. I would rather get booed here than with my baby.” He shot YN a wink and continued to the next song.

The moment between the couple went viral, and people wondered what the child's gender was. As the couple sat in the bath together after a show, YN thought of something that had been in her head for two weeks since fans had been asking about the gender of their child. Harry rubbed on her growing bump and hummed as he felt himself destressing. “Harry, we should do a gender reveal for my last show with you. Well, the last one for my time on tour, what do you think?” “This tour has felt like a special one. I can’t describe it, but it feels more personal than past ones. I think that would be a great idea.” Harry’s team got ready for the big day and decided that the best idea for this last-minute gender reveal would be to do it right before the closing song, “Kiwi.” YN would be joining him on stage for the first time since they’ve been together, which would also be a massive moment for the couple. Harry took a sip of water after finishing up a song, and he couldn’t help but smile at himself, knowing that the crowd was about to go crazy. “Now, I hate to say that we are coming to an end. But we are. Soon, you will be stuck in traffic, and I will be thinking of you all and the laughter we have shared. Before you go, though, I want to invite a special guest. To all you people trying to sneak off, I see you, so sit down. You won't want to miss this. Please welcome my wife, YN Styles, to the stage.”

YN comes from stage left with a big black balloon, making the crowd scream so loud her ears begin to hurt. “Everyone calm down. My baby is sleeping. Shhh.” Harry said to the crowd as he embraced YN. “Many of you don’t know, but, today is my wife’s last show with me.” The crowd began to say “no” collectively, sounding upset she was making a departure. “It will only be a short break, but when she returns, our baby will be here. So, today, we will be celebrating our baby before their arrival. YN, will you give us the honor of sharing the gender of our baby?” Harry said as if it was nothing, and it was at that exact moment all phones in the room were up, ready to capture the iconic moment happening before them. “Wait, before you pop it, let's add some suspense, right?” Harry looked toward the band as they teased the crowd with music. There was anxious screaming across Wembley Stadium. At each sound of the music, you heard and felt the tension. Harry gave YN the cue to pop the balloon, and as she did, pink confetti flew out, causing the crowd to squeal, cry, and shout, saying how they knew it was a girl. The instrumental to Kiwi started. YN and Harry shared a sweet kiss as YN exited the stage. At the show's end, pink fireworks ended the best night of Harry’s career.

4. tour baby

Everything has been perfect for Harry and YN for the past three months. They couldn’t be happier with their baby girl Genevieve, or Vivi as Harry called her. YN left the tour five months ago, and now she had their three-month-old daughter in her hands, staring back at her. Harry decided to go on break during the middle of his tour to spend three months with his family without worrying about it. YN gave birth in December of 2025, and now, in April, Harry would be heading back for tour, and YN would be joining him again. Harry had been so consumed by their bubble that he almost dreaded coming back for a tour. YN would be lying if she said she wouldn’t miss his attention, and his time. It was the sad side of touring that she was familiar with. YN always knew his family was his number one priority. Now, going back on tour, the fact of the matter is that they aren’t his only priority. Naturally, with Harry touring, it could weigh down on him. He became tired easily or just lacked being attentive in other areas. It wasn’t necessarily his fault.

The tour just consumes his life. Harry had promised her that he wouldn’t let that happen this time around. YN was going through postpartum depression, and expressed to Harry her feelings. Harry took that into account and constantly tried to pour love into YN. Sometimes, his sugar honey kisses got her through the day. YN felt wholly supported as she transitioned to becoming a mother. Harry was the perfect spouse during this time; as Harry prepared to return to tour, there had to be many accommodations for Vivi and YN. Harry wanted to ensure they had everything and more that they needed. Harry was nervous about his baby girl coming to tour, he knew the media would wish to have the first look at his child. His only priority was to protect his family. Over the break, Harry and YN had many talks about the transition that would be taking place. Nannies were in place for the rest of the tour, and there was a schedule the couple would try their best to follow.

On the first day back from tour, the crew fell in love with Vivi. Harry made sure to have a long talk with everyone about the boundary with his most precious gift the world gave him, and he made sure to have NDAs signed for anyone who would be working on the tour. If news were to leak about Vi, he doesn’t know how he would react. Truly he would feel betrayed. As Harry was on stage, he saw signs all around the stadium asking about his baby girl. “She’s happy, we’re happy,” Harry said to a fan sign. Towards the middle of the concert, fans across the Camp Nou stadium got a notification while Harry was dancing across the stage, which caused all of them to scream.

Laugh On Tour. Barcelona I. April, 2026.

5. bittersweet first birthday

Vivi was the star of the tour, and as her first birthday approached, she knew this. As she gained consciousness, she joined Harry for soundcheck and even joined him in singing (which was just her screaming). Harry was overjoyed that it seemed like his baby girl was enjoying this side of his life. He had many fears that she would be scared of the loud music, but instead, she embraced it. As Vi got older, YN thought it would be good to start showing her to attend concerts.

Typically, during shows, Vivi would be backstage with a nanny. During Vivi's 6 months on tour, she finally sat in a suite with YN, watching her father perform on stage, and it seemed that she enjoyed it. At nine months old, even though she had protective earphones, YN often caught her hanging on to the songs she once knew in the womb. It looked as if she was relearning them as the months flew by. Now, one day away from her first birthday, Harry and YN both share tears about this bittersweet birthday. Of course, the couple was happy that their child was turning one year old while Harry was on tour, but the tour would end a month after Vi’s birthday, and it felt like an era of all of their lives would be ending. Vi was conceived right before this era of their lives, and Harry had reached heights of his career that he had never reached before. He had to credit this to his wife and child for all attributes.

Harry felt a sense of motivation and drive that he never had before. Vi was the inspiration for everything in his life, and he knew that shortly after this tour ended, he would be working on an album dedicated to his daughter. Watching her grow had caused him to jot down small notes about what he would write about for the next album. Vi was the inspiration of his life. Harry wanted to share his daughter with fans because they patiently waited and never invaded his space in public when they saw his daughter was with him. Harry kept Vi’s identity under wraps, although some articles would pull different things together about what they thought his daughter looked like. Sharing the most private thing in Harry’s life made him anxious; he was exposing Vi to the public eye's scrutiny. Harry knew how difficult it would be to keep her hidden as she grew into a toddler.

As she got older, Vi would attempt to snatch the blankets off that kept her hidden, or she would try to peek out from her stroller as the flashing noises from cameras were on her. Harry knew he wouldn’t show her often, so he wanted the first time to be a special occasion. Once he brought up the idea of singing “Happy Birthday” to her on stage to YN, it was something YN had to agree to. As Harry performed to a crowd of 78,000 people, he knew it was time for his surprise before he took a brief intermission. His fans didn’t necessarily know the date of Vi’s birthday, so this would be something else that was personal to him. “If you all would join me, it’s a very special someone’s first birthday.” The crowd cheered loudly as Harry laughed briefly at the reaction, opening his eyes in shock at the loud cheering. “That’s the best you can do?” He said sarcastically as the crowd screamed louder. “I think we should bring our guest out on stage…what do you say?” As the crowd continued to cheer, it dawned on them that this would be the first look at his daughter. “Don’t scare her too bad; she’s new to show business. Welcome my pride and joy to the stage, Vivi. Come here.” YN sat Vi down and YN instructed her to walk to Harry. Vivi walked out on stage to her father with stumbling legs as if the stage and crowd were second nature to her. As Vi walked into Harry’s opening arms, the crowd loudly aww’ed as Vi laid her head on Harry’s shoulder. “Now, don’t make my baby cry. Let’s have a nice hushed happy birthday to my Vi.” The crowd listened to Harry and joined him in singing to Vivi. Which seemed to surprise her as the crowd said her name to her, “Happy birthday, Vivi,” Harry said, then he pressed a kiss to the side of her head feeling more emotional than he thought he would.

Vi clung to his body as Harry walked off stage to an emotional YN. When the show ended, the crew decided to do something special for Vivi, which had Harry and YN thanking everyone for hours afterward. That night in the hotel, Genevive was sleeping in between the couple after her sugar crash from eating too much cake. Harry and YN watched the online outpour of love and admiration for their baby.

NEW DADRRY CONTENT

Happy birthday to the laugh on tour baby

Aww she has his eyes

Harry and YN reacted to different comments, which also led to playful arguments about who she looked more like. YN was happy with her decision that Harry continued to go on tour, creating memories for a lifetime as a family. Everything fell into the right place for the couple, and the timing couldn’t have been more perfect. As weeks passed, Harry was on cloud nine when his tour ended, and he couldn’t wait until the next tour to see how much more involved Vi would be. He thought of including her throughout his next album, too. He just wanted something to capture her at this age, his personal time capsule. His family slept upstairs in their London home, and before he joined his wife for bed, he posted one last picture to conclude the end of this era.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. This is goodbye for now, but not forever. I love you always. - H & V

[harrywavycurly]

Handle With Care: Are You Okay?

Masterlist: Here

CW: language, drinking, Harry is still a bit of an asshole and slight angsty bits

Tag List: @gmikaelson @ell0ra-br3kk3r @tulips4harry @mellamolayla @mads3502 @empathyroad @idk199o @sassamanda77 @maudie-duan @macy-tpwk @coralferrio1 @stylesftcher @mema10

A/N: Harry is showing he can be nice-ish and I love that for you, but also this part is kinda angsty👀

Summary: Harry has a party that ends with someone knocking on your door at an odd hour📦✨

Harry smiles as he walks around his crowded living room so he can reach his kitchen and he’s only mildly confused as to who some of the people are that give him friendly nods and waves, surely he knows them but just has had one too many drinks to remember the exact details of meeting them. Throwing a party wasn’t originally on his agenda for the evening but honestly he needed a distraction from the girl who lives two floors up and is entirely too nice to him that he can’t seem to stop thinking about since he met her only a few days ago. You have somehow wormed your way into his mind and he’s not sure when you’ll ever leave or if he even wants you to. It’s gotten so bad he can’t even make himself a cup of coffee in the morning without wondering if you like coffee or are you a tea person and if you do like tea which ones are your favorite and how do you like it? And frankly Harry feels like he’s gone full on looney because he knows how he’s treated you since meeting you so the odds of him ever getting to know how you take your tea or if you like coffee is very slim but it doesn’t stop him from wondering.

“This is a great party.” Harry tries to be polite as Heather, the girlfriend of one of his fraternity brothers leans in to give him a half hug once he enters the kitchen. He really does try to give her a nice genuine smile but all he can think of when she hugs him is how her perfume is far too sweet smelling and it makes him miss a certain floral scent that has a hint of something else he hasn’t been able to put his finger on because he’s not sure what exactly makes the sunshine smell but he thinks it’s something citrusy.

“Thanks.” He knows his tone isn’t full of enough excitement as it should be considering there’s a party happening around him but he can’t help it. Because as it turns out surrounding himself with random people hasn’t helped in the way he thought it would because instead of the party being a distraction it only seems to amplify the fact his crowded living room is missing the one person he wants to see.

Heather doesn’t bother asking what’s wrong, too distracted by someone grabbing her hand and leading her out of the kitchen to the makeshift dance floor that’s just the space between the couch and his entertainment center. Harry takes the opportunity now that he finds himself alone in his kitchen to let out a deep sigh and lean against his counter near the fridge. Normally he’s a better host, doing his duty to make sure people are having fun and don’t need anything but tonight he can’t be bothered to care if everyone is enjoying themselves or not because honestly he kind of hopes if they’re having a horrible time then they’ll all leave and he can be left alone to his thoughts that somehow always lead him right back to you.

“Harry where are your-” Niall stops talking when he notices his curly haired friend is leaning against his kitchen counter, hands gripping the edge and a frown on his face with his eyes closed. “Harry?” Niall takes a step towards him so he can place a hand on his shoulder but as soon as Niall reaches his hand out Harry’s eyes open causing both men to be startled and jump a bit.

“Jesus Christ Niall what the hell is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me? You’re the one who’s sleeping during his own bloody party you twat!”

“Wasn’t s’leeping.” Harry mumbles making Niall roll his eyes as he walks over to the sink that Harry has filled with ice and various bottles of liquor and beer.

“What’s got you lookin all doom and gloom huh? Your ex here or-”

“I’m not all doom and gloom you asshole I’m just tired that’s all.” Harry says with a sigh as he runs a hand over his face before looking out into his living room.

“Tired huh? I’m callin’ bullshit mate.” Harry turns his head just as Niall cracks open a beer, a smug looking smile on his face as he stares back at him.

“Oh fuck off. Just go back to flirting with everyone that smiles at you and leave me alone.” Niall laughs and shakes his head before taking a sip of his beer while Harry crosses his arms over his chest as a scowl takes over his face because his annoying Irish friend won’t just let him sulk in his own kitchen by himself.

“Why don’t you just go invite her to the party and be done with it?” At this Harry lets out a scoff as if what Niall just had the nerve to say to him is the most absurd thing he’s ever heard.

“Am I supposed to know who you’re referring-”

“Oh my god dude you’re actually fuckin’ annoying me now.” Niall puts his beer down on the counter next to the sink so he can walk over and put both hands on Harry’s shoulders. “Go ask her to come down for a drink so you can stop mopping around like a wet blanket because it’s getting on my nerves so if you don’t go do it then I will.” Harry narrows his eyes into a harsh glare as Niall tells him that he’ll go to your door because if there’s something that Niall knows about Harry it’s that he’s always been a jealous person so the image of Niall knocking on your door instead of him is enough to make his jaw clench and his blood want to start boiling.

“Like hell you will.” Harry snaps as he practically shoves Niall off of him, while to anyone watching this would look like the beginnings of a fight it’s actually exactly the kind of reaction Niall was aiming for so he just steps back with a smile on his face. “If anyone is going to go bother her it’s gonna be me you wonky kneed-”

“Okay okay I get it I won’t go knock on her door.” Niall says with a laugh as he goes to grab his beer off the counter. “Just be quick with it you lanky fuck.” Niall adds as he turns to head back into the living room to join the rest of the people at the party leaving Harry standing in his kitchen annoyed that he just fell for whatever trick Niall just played on him.

“Fuckin asshole.” He mumbles to himself as he runs a hand through his hair while heading for his front door. He grabs his keys off the table by the door and pats his pockets to double check he has his phone because if you do decline his invite then maybe at least he can try to get your number, just so next time he can properly invite you instead of asking you to come over two hours after the party starts.

You reach over and turn the lamp on your nightstand off before getting comfortable in your bed for the night. Seeing as it’s nearly one in the morning you let out a sleepy sigh as you close your eyes. You don’t drift off the sleep right away, your mind is still going a mile a minute with random thoughts of the green eyed boy that helped you move. While for the most part he wasn’t the friendliest person you’ve come across you still can’t help but think that maybe he was just having a rough few days having to adjust from living in a giant house with ten other guys to living alone, after all it can be hard being alone with just you and your thoughts all the time and Niall did tell you Harry was very popular so maybe he just doesn’t do well alone. And to your annoyance no matter how rude he may have been it doesn’t change the fact he is extremely handsome with his green eyes and curly brown hair and nice jawline, and not to mention the tattoos scattered in random places on his arms it makes it that much harder to just forget about him.

As if the universe can hear the inner workings of your mind you suddenly hear a very loud knock on your front door. You open your eyes and sit up to see if maybe someone just accidentally knocked on your door, mistaking it for someone else’s but when you hear a second much more deliberate sounding knock you know that’s not the case. You lean over and turn on your lamp before tossing the covers off your legs and slipping your feet into your fuzzy pink and orange polka dotted slippers. You think that something must be wrong with whoever is on the other side of the door as you hear a third knock, so you quickly rush to turn on your kitchen light before heading to your front door.

“Maybe she’s not-” Harry freezes as you swing open your door, while he was hoping to see you again he never in his wildest dreams would’ve imagined he’d see you answering the door in a pink and yellow tye dyed nightgown that seems to be a little loose fitting as one of the straps is dangerously close to falling off your shoulder.

“Harry? Are-are you okay?” Your voice is filled with worry as you look him up and down, silently wondering why he’s dressed in skinny jeans and a long sleeve black knitted shirt that allows his tattoos to show through when it’s nearly one in the morning but when you don’t see any obvious signs of a possible injury you let you eyes flicker up to his face. When you see his eyes are wide and his mouth is slightly hung open you all of a sudden realize what you’re wearing and instantly cross your arms over your chest in an attempt to cover yourself up.

“Uhm I uh.” He clears his throat and gives his head a shake as if it’ll help clear his mind of all the wildly inappropriate thoughts he’s having all because you’re standing there in your nightgown. “I’m having a party.” You raise an eyebrow as he practically spits the words out as if they caused a bad taste in his mouth and he needed them gone.

“Oh uhm okay when is your uh party?”

“Now.”

“Now? Like right now?”

“It started two hours ago.” While this is the most the two of you have talked without him saying something incredibly mean or with a snarky attitude you can’t help but feel like something is off with him.

“So why are you here if you have a party going on right now?” You ask and Harry lets out a sigh as he runs a hand through his hair.

“Niall told me to come invite you.” Harry doesn’t mean for it to come off as if Niall is the only reason he’s standing in your doorway at such an odd hour but he can tell by the way your shoulders slump and you just nod at him, that is exactly how you’re taking it.

“Well that’s sweet of Niall but-”

“I’m sorry about the plates.” You quirk a brow at his sudden outburst while Harry lets out a groan as he closes his eyes and looks up towards the ceiling. “Fuck fuck fuck this is going so bad.” You hear him mumble as he runs booths hand over his face and you can’t help but wonder if he meant to say that in his head instead of actually voicing it out loud.

“It’s okay.” Your soothing voice makes Harry open his eyes and look down at you as you uncross your arms so you can reach out and place a hand on his forearm.

“Really Harry it’s fine and thank you for the invite but uhm it’s a little late so maybe next time?” He only catches about every third word that leaves your mouth as he stares at the hand that’s resting on his arm, he feels the same sort of electric shock that he felt the first time you touched him being sent all the way to his toes. He blinks a few times and he wants to place his hand over yours so you can’t move it but he doesn’t so he just has to watch in silence as you remove your hand from him and place it by your side.

“Did-did you feel that?” He knows he sounds crazy the moment he asks the question but he really doesn’t care because he has to know if you felt the same zap he did or if he really is losing his mind.

“Feel what?” You look at his face as he lets out a deep sigh and that’s when you notice the slight red tint to his cheeks and the way his eyes are a bit glossed over and it hits you, he’s drunk.

“That like weird zap when you touched me? You felt it right?”

“Harry I think you’ve just had too much to drink.”

“No no I’m not drunk-well I’m not that drunk.” You just give him a soft smile as he places a hand on his hip while the other rubs at the back of his neck. “It’s like when you touch someone with too much static and you shock them but-but it’s a little different because I only feel it with you.” Harry knows looking back he will remember this as the moment he officially feels like he has fully lost his mind because the look on your face is one that tells him you don’t know what he’s talking about meaning you don’t feel it, it’s just him.

“Maybe it’s from my slippers?” Both of you look down at the fuzzy things on your feet but Harry knows that’s not what caused the shock because you weren’t wearing those when he felt it the first time. “Or maybe it’s-”

“It’s nothing.” He can’t handle you trying to explain away something he knows there’s no real explanation for so he just rubs his lips together and turns to look down your hallway before letting out a huff. “I’m drunk.” It’s a lie and he knows it but he can’t be bothered to care because he feels as if his heart just plummeted down to his feet and he just wants to turn and run away. It’s as if all of a sudden he’s back to the Harry you first met, his eyes are looking at you with a slight glare to them and his jaw is clenched while his hands are balled into fists at his side as if standing in front of you is making him upset in some way.

“Harry I’m-” You try to reach for him again but he takes a step back making the corners of your mouth dip downwards into a slight frown.

“This was a waste of time.” Is all Harry says before he’s turning and making his way down the hall towards the elevators leaving you standing in your doorway feeling confused as to how you somehow caused him to feel so upset that he couldn’t stand to be around you for a moment longer.

To say Harry is angry is an understatement, he should’ve known going to your apartment wasn’t going to go well because why would it? None of his previous encounters with you have ended well minus when he took a donut from you but even then he’s pretty sure he all but whispered his thank you before he left your apartment. So when he makes it back to his apartment he finds himself instantly scanning his still crowded living room for a pair of blue eyes and over bleached blonde hair that belong to the man he blames for ruining his evening and possibly his chances at ever seeming even semi normal to you. Thankfully he doesn’t have to search long before he finds Niall leaning against his wall near the hallway that his bedroom is on, a beer in his hand and a smile on his face as some girl who Harry doesn’t know chats to him about her plans for the upcoming weekend.

Niall catches Harry heading right for him and he can tell by the way his nostrils are flaring and his jaw is set that he’s not happy. So he politely excuses himself and meets Harry half way, but before Harry can even begin to go off on his Irish friend he feels Niall’s hand wrap around his arm. Harry doesn’t have time to react as Niall drags him down his hallway and shoves him into his bedroom and closes the door behind him.

“What happened?” Niall’s tone is harsh as he reaches over and flicks the light switch on the wall turning on the light attached to the ceiling fan while Harry glares at him as he brushes off his arm where Niall’s hand was making Niall roll his eyes at his friend’s dramatics.

“What happened is you shoved your nose in my business and now she thinks I’m fucking crazy.”

“What did you say? Did you get her number at least?”

“Doesn’t matter what I said it all went to shit and no I didn’t get her fucking number you asshole.”

“You were only gone ten minutes maybe fifteen so how the hell did you manage to fuck it up that quickly?”

“It’s just a talent I have apparently.” Harry says sarcastically as he runs both hands through his hair while he begins to pace the length of his bed that’s in the middle of the room.

“Don’t get all mad and shit okay? But Harry do you maybe-”

“Do I maybe what Niall?”

“Love her?” Niall waits a moment for an over dramatic reaction to his question but when all Harry does is stop pacing and stare at Niall with wide eyes he thinks that maybe his guess is correct and Harry is just now being hit with the reality of it.

“Wha-what did you just ask me?” Harry stumbles over his words as all of a sudden he feels like a stack of bricks just landed on him one by one and with each one he’s hit with he gains a little more of an understanding as to why he’s been acting so strangely around you and why you’re all he can think about.

“Uh I asked if you maybe love her? I know love at first sight is a thing an all so maybe that’s what’s going on?” Niall explains with a shrug as Harry slowly sits on the edge of his bed and lets out a shaky breath.

“I don’t-don’t know what’s wrong with me Niall.” He blinks a few times as a lump begins to form in his throat. “I feel fucking crazy because she’s all I think about and I just met her and then you ask that and now -now I just don’t know what to do.” Niall feels a little useless as he watches one of his bestfriends break down right in front of him, so he just takes a few steps so he can take a seat next to him on his bed.

“Well for starters you can buy her some new plates.” Niall jokes in an attempt to lighten the mood as he places a hand on Harry’s shoulder. But it doesn’t work at all as Harry lets out a groan and covers his face in his hands.

“How do you know about the plates?” Niall chuckles as he gives Harry’s shoulder a good squeeze before dropping his hand away.

“As if that girl would just drop a box of her own stuff and then set it on her counter upside down.”

“I’ve never dropped a box before.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think I love her but I think-” Harry lets out a deep breath as he looks down at his hands that are in his lap. “I really like her.” He admits making Niall smile as he stands up off the bed and takes a step towards Harry’s bedroom door.

“Then you’ll just have to fix it mate and if anyone can get themselves out of a tricky spot it’s you.” Niall says as he turns so he can face Harry, it’s the best he can do to reassure him that it’ll be okay he just has to work on it a bit.

“Thanks.” With that Niall just gives him a little nod and a reassuring smile before he turns and opens the door so he can go back to the party.

Harry lays back on his bed with his feet still on the floor and stares at his ceiling and even though he has a party happening just outside his bedroom door he finds himself preferring the solitude of his bedroom so he can think of possible ways of fixing this extremely messed up situation he’s found himself in. Because Harry decides in this very moment he doesn’t like the way your face looks with a frown on it and he surely doesn’t like it when he knows he’s the reason you’re frowning so he’s going to do whatever it takes to erase any the negative thoughts you have of him and replace them with good ones. And as of right now he is done being an asshole it’s time he shows you just how nice and charming he can be because as he just admitted to Niall, he really likes you.

[nickistuffs]

Learning new things together

Pairing: Harry x Designer reader (curvy or plus size whatever you feel they should look like. This is my preference 😌)

Summary: A night of laughter, billiards, and heartfelt moments with Harry

Word Count: 22.1K

Warnings: None. just fluff

✨Masterlist✨

…

Harry called you last minute for dinner at a restaurant he’d been excited for you to try, and now here you were, standing in front of your mirror, debating which outfit best suited the occasion. As you held up options and analyzed yourself in the reflection, the doorbell suddenly rang. Glancing at the clock, you frowned—Harry was early.

Opening the door in your soft blue pajamas, you stared at him in disbelief. “Why are you already here?” you asked, baffled at his uncharacteristic punctuality.

Harry leaned against the doorframe, a playful grin spreading across his face as he took in your attire. “Didn’t realize we were having a sleepover, Y/N,” he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms. “Haha, very funny. But seriously, why are you so early? You could’ve texted me before showing up.”

“I did get us a reservation,” Harry explained, stepping inside, “but it’s gonna take a couple of hours. Thought we could do something fun before dinner.”

Your curiosity piqued. “Oh? What do you have in mind, H?”

He smirked, clearly enjoying keeping you in suspense. “That’s a surprise. But as much as I love the whole pajama look you’ve got going on, I don’t think it’s gonna fly at the place I’m taking you.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, loser,” you muttered, shaking your head as you disappeared into your room. Emerging a few minutes later, you held up two outfits in your hands. “Alright, my personal stylist—which one’s better?”

“Oh, this one is casual and cute but still chic,” Harry said, pointing to one of the outfits. “Go on, don’t take too long, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes playfully and disappeared into your bedroom to change. A few minutes later, you stepped out, now dressed in the chosen outfit, holding a soft rose-colored lip gloss in hand. Facing the mirror, you carefully applied it, pursing your lips and smacking them together to blend the color evenly.

Behind you, Harry leaned casually against the doorway, his eyes locked on your reflection. He was utterly enamored. There was something so captivating about the simplicity of the moment—just you putting on lip gloss—and yet it made his heart flutter.

“Are you ready?” Harry asked softly, his voice warm as he continued to gaze at you, his expression gentle.

Looking at him through the mirror, you smiled and gave a small nod. “Yup,” you replied, the "p" popping, as you turned to grab your bag. Harry chuckled, shaking his head at how effortlessly adorable you were.

...

Once you were ready, Harry led you out to his car, opening the passenger door for you with a playful bow. “Your chariot awaits, my lady,” he teased, earning an amused eye roll from you.

“Thank you, kind sir,” you replied, playing along as you settled into the seat.

Harry got into the driver’s side and started the car, soft music playing in the background as the two of you pulled onto the road. The initial silence was comfortable, but it didn’t take long for the gentle banter to begin.

“So, are you finally going to tell me where we’re going, or is this a secret until we get there?” you asked, glancing over at him.

Harry smirked, keeping his eyes on the road. “A surprise is more fun, don’t you think?”

“Depends. If this is your plan to ‘murder me’ kind of deal, I’m jumping out of this car right now.”

He laughed, the sound rich and warm. “Noted. No murdering schemes. But I promise it’s something you’ll enjoy.”

You squinted at him suspiciously. “I’ll hold you to that. So, what made you decide to be early tonight? You’re usually on time... well, not this early.”

Harry shrugged, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. “Felt like surprising you. And I figured you might take forever to get ready.”

“Forever?” you exclaimed, pretending to be offended. “I was ready in record time, thank you very much.”

“Oh, sure,” he teased, glancing at you briefly. “That lip gloss application was lightning fast.”

You smacked his arm lightly, laughing. “Don’t mock the process, Styles.”

He grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that charming way that made your heart flutter. “I wouldn’t dare.”

The banter continued, shifting from the perils of being ‘fashionably late’ to a heated debate about Which bakery in the city had the best pastries. Time seemed to fly as the conversation flowed effortlessly, punctuated by shared laughter and playful jabs.

When the car slowed to a stop at the destination, you realized you hadn’t even noticed the drive. Harry’s company made everything feel light and easy like you could talk to him about anything and never get bored.

…

When the car finally came to a stop, you glanced out the window, squinting at the neon sign glowing above the entrance. “Ohh, a billiards bar?” you said, the surprise evident in your voice as you turned to Harry.

“Not just any billiards bar,” Harry said, grinning as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “This place is legendary. Great vibes, decent music, and I may or may not have had my fair share of victories here.”

You raised an eyebrow, unbuckling your seatbelt as well. “Victories, huh? So, are you challenging me already, Styles?”

He stepped out of the car and moved to your side, opening the door for you. “Oh, absolutely. But don’t worry—I’ll go easy on you. Beginner’s luck and all that.”

You laughed as you got out, straightening your top. “Who said I’m a beginner? I could be a billiards prodigy for all you know.”

Harry smirked, locking the car as the two of you walked toward the entrance. “Alright, then. I guess I’ll have to take this seriously.”

…

Inside, the place was alive with energy. The sound of clinking pool balls mixed with the low hum of conversation and the occasional cheer from a winning shot. Dim lighting, a jukebox in the corner playing a classic rock tune, and the faint scent of wood polish gave the place a cosy, retro vibe.

You both ordered a cocktail to start the night, Harry led you to an empty table in the corner, grabbing a couple of cues from the rack on the wall. He handed one to you with a sly smile. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got.”

You took the cue, twirling it as you inspected the table. “Alright, Styles. Don’t cry when I destroy you.”

He chuckled, leaning casually against the table. “Big words. Let’s see if you can back them up.”

The game started lightheartedly, with Harry explaining a few basics and showing off his skills. But as soon as it was your turn, you sunk three balls in a row, leaving him slack-jawed at you.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he said, holding a hand to pause the game. “Are you actually hustling me right now?”

You smirked, lining up your next shot. “I told you, I’m not a beginner.”

Harry laughed, shaking his head. “Alright, Y/N. Game on.”

The rest of the game was filled with laughter and competitive banter. Harry, determined not to lose, pulled out all the stops, even playfully trying to distract you with commentary and exaggerated moves. Despite his antics, you held your own, the friendly rivalry making the evening even more fun.

As he was concentrating on the ball to hit you looked at him under the harsh fluorescent light, you see his brows furrowed and as he was about to hit the ball he poked his tongue out. Adorable god you can’t believe you’re here with him.

…

The game started with a mix of playful banter and a fair amount of determination from both sides. Harry had quickly taken the lead, his confidence evident in the way he lined up each shot with ease. You, on the other hand, were holding your own but quickly realized that Harry had a few tricks up his sleeve.

"Alright, pro," you teased after his third ball sank into a pocket, "you gonna give me a chance, or are you trying to hustle me now?"

He chuckled, leaning casually on his cue stick. "Hustle you? Please, I’m being nice."

You rolled your eyes, lining up for your next shot. The cue ball cracked against the solid yellow, sending it wobbling dangerously close to a corner pocket before missing entirely. Groaning, you straightened up. "Okay, maybe you should hustle me. Clearly, I need the lesson."

Harry grinned, setting his cue aside and walking over to you. "Alright, let me help you out. Can’t have you going easy on me next round."

Before you could protest, he was standing behind you, his hands gently resting over yours as you held the cue. His warmth was impossible to ignore, and your heart skipped as his voice dropped, soft and instructive.

"First off, your aim’s not bad, but your stance could use some work," he said, nudging your feet apart with his own. "There. Now, grip the cue a little lighter—don’t strangle it."

You followed his instructions, your breath hitching when he adjusted your grip with his hands, his touch steady but gentle.

"Now, look straight at the ball you’re aiming for. See that angle? You want the cue ball to hit it right about there," he said, leaning in closer to point. His voice was calm and reassuring, and you couldn’t help but glance up at him.

"Got it," you murmured, though you weren’t sure if you were talking about the shot or the fact that his presence was completely distracting.

"Good. Now take the shot, nice and smooth."

You exhaled and focused, pulling the cue back slowly before sending it forward. The satisfying crack of the cue ball hitting the target ball echoed, and you both watched as it rolled perfectly into the corner pocket.

"Yes!" you cheered, spinning around to face him. "Finally!"

Harry laughed, stepping back but not without giving your shoulder a playful squeeze. "See? Told you you had it in you."

"Only because you helped," you said, grinning.

"Hey, teamwork makes the dream work," he replied, his dimpled smile lighting up his face.

As the game went on, Harry continued to help you, pointing out angles, correcting your form, and cracking jokes that had you laughing between shots. By the end, the score was close—closer than you’d expected.

When Harry narrowly won, he leaned on his cue stick, still catching his breath from laughing at your exaggerated “angry loser” act. "You’re better than I expected," he said, his eyes warm with admiration.

"And you’re just as competitive as I expected," you shot back, nudging him playfully.

His grin widened, dimples in full view. "I had to win. My pride was on the line."

"Well, congratulations, then," you said, setting your cue aside with a mock bow. "But don’t get too comfortable. Next round, I’m taking you down."

"Next round?" he asked, tilting his head, his voice light but his eyes sparkling with hope.

You brushed a strand of hair from your face, your smile matching his. "Yeah, next round."

"Alright," he said, his tone playful but sincere. "Next round, I’ll even let you win… maybe."

"Don’t you dare," you shot back, laughing as you both began setting up for the next game, the warmth of the moment lingering between you.

Taking a break from playing billiards, you and Harry sat at a small, cosy corner table in the bar, sipping on colorful cocktails. The laughter and easy banter from your game lingered, adding warmth to the air between you.

Harry leaned back in his chair, a soft smile on his face as he watched you take a sip of your drink. “You know,” he said, swirling the ice in his glass, “you really gave me a run for my money back there. I almost thought you’d actually beat me.”

You grinned, setting your glass down. “Almost? Harry, I was one lucky shot away from making you cry.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Sure, keep telling yourself that. I’ll just remind you who walked away with the win tonight.”

Before you could come up with a witty retort, Harry’s phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen, his expression shifting slightly as he read the notification.

“Looks like our dinner reservation’s coming up,” he said, setting the phone down and meeting your eyes with a sheepish grin. “I hope you’ve still got room after those snacks we had earlier.”

He chuckled and stood, offering you his hand. “Come on, let’s see if I can keep this streak of impressing you going.”

You took his hand, the warmth of his palm sending a small flutter through you as he helped you up. Together, you walked out of the bar, the evening air crisp but not too cold, the city lights glowing softly around you.

The restaurant he’d chosen was tucked into a quiet street, its glowing sign and warm, candlelit interior immediately setting the tone for something intimate and thoughtful. As the host led you to your table, you couldn’t help but glance at Harry, who seemed oddly proud of himself.

“Alright, I’ll admit it,” you said as you took your seat. “This place is… impressive.”

“Good,” he said, sitting across from you and leaning back in his chair, his confidence still shining through. “I was hoping you’d like it.”

...

You were both scanning the menu, the soft candlelight flickering between you. As your eyes trailed over the prices, your expression shifted slightly. The dishes looked exquisite, but the numbers next to them made you hesitate. Sure, you could afford it, but fancy restaurants like this weren’t exactly your usual scene.

Harry noticed almost instantly. With a gentle nudge of his foot against yours under the table, he broke your concentration.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice warm and reassuring. “Don’t worry, it’s my treat. I did invite you to dinner, after all.”

You looked up at him, his easygoing smile instantly putting you at ease. There was no judgment, no expectation—just genuine kindness.

Still, you couldn’t help but want to contribute in some way. Smiling, you said, “At least let me buy us dessert.”

Harry’s grin widened, his dimples making a charming appearance as he leaned back in his chair. “Deal,” he said, his tone light and playful. “But only if you let me pick what we’re getting.”

“Fine,” you replied, laughing softly. “But if you pick something terrible, I’m taking that back.”

He chuckled, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Fair enough.”

As you both returned to the menu, the initial nervousness melted away, replaced by the warmth of shared smiles and the growing comfort between you.

...

As the waiter walked away with your orders, you and Harry sat back, the soft hum of conversations and gentle clinking of silverware filling the cozy space around you. The atmosphere between you was relaxed, the kind that made it easy to slip into playful banter.

Harry rested his chin on his hand, his elbow propped casually on the table. “So,” he began with a teasing smirk, “what’s your strategy for dessert? Are you going to go classic or adventurous?”

You laughed, leaning forward slightly. “Oh, I’m absolutely going adventurous. If I’m letting you pick, I’m going to make sure you’ve got good taste in more than just restaurants.”

“Good taste? Have you seen who I’m having dinner with?” he shot back, grinning.

You felt a faint blush creep up your cheeks but decided to play it cool, meeting his grin with one of your own. “Flattery will only get you so far, Styles. But nice try.”

He chuckled, drumming his fingers lightly on the table. “Alright, fine. But let’s be real—you seem like you’re used to being treated well. I bet your past boyfriends had to step up their game to keep up with you.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the comment. A sheepish smile spread across your face as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Funny you should say that… because there haven’t been any.”

Harry’s brows shot up, genuine surprise flickering across his face. “Wait, none? You’re telling me you’ve never been in a relationship?”

You shrugged, a small laugh escaping. “What can I say? I’ve just never found the right person—or maybe I’m too picky. Or, you know, I’ve been busy walking my neighbor’s dogs and losing at billiards.”

He tilted his head, studying you for a moment, his expression softening. “Honestly, I don’t get it. You’re smart, funny, and clearly a good sport when you lose—”

“Hey,” you interrupted with mock indignation, making him laugh.

“—and you’ve got this energy about you that makes people want to stick around,” he continued, his tone genuine now. “Anyone would be lucky to call you their girlfriend.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and for a moment, you were grateful the dim lighting probably hid the color rising in your cheeks. “Thanks,” you said softly, your voice carrying a mix of shyness and sincerity. “That means a lot, coming from you.”

Harry smiled, his dimples making another appearance. “Just telling the truth.”

Before either of you could say more, the waiter returned with your drinks, breaking the moment but leaving a warmth between you that lingered as the conversation naturally shifted to lighter topics. By the time the food arrived, you both were laughing again, but the exchange still hung in the back of your mind—a reminder that this night was turning into something more meaningful than you’d expected.

As the plates were cleared and the conversation wound down, you both leaned back in your chairs, a comfortable silence settling over the table. Harry swirled the last of his drink in his glass while you busied yourself with your phone, an idea forming in your mind.

You glanced at him, a small smile tugging at your lips as you scrolled. “Gelato’s nice and all,” you said casually, your tone teasing, “but have you ever had bingsu?”

Harry raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Bingsu? Can’t say I have. What is it?”

“It’s like shaved ice, but better,” you said, excitement creeping into your voice. “It’s fluffy, sweet, and they pile it up with toppings—fruit, condensed milk, red bean, whatever you want. Way better than plain old gelato.”

He chuckled, leaning forward slightly. “Better than gelato? That’s a bold claim. You know I’ve spent a lot of time in Italy, right? Gelato’s kind of sacred.”

“Trust me,” you said, holding up your phone triumphantly. “I’m about to convert you. There’s a place just a few blocks from here that’s supposed to be amazing.”

Harry grinned, clearly enjoying your enthusiasm. “Alright, I’m in. But if it doesn’t live up to the hype, you’re officially banned from insulting gelato ever again.”

“Deal,” you said with a laugh, slipping your phone back into your bag as the waiter approached with the check.

Harry reached for the bill without hesitation, but you leaned over, protesting. “Hey, I said I’d at least get dessert!”

“This isn’t dessert,” he said smoothly, handing over his card with a cheeky grin. “This is dinner. Dessert is your department, remember?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help smiling. “Fine. But I’m picking the most extravagant bingsu on the menu.”

“Good,” he said, standing and holding out his hand to help you up. “I’m expecting nothing less.”

As the two of you strolled out into the cool evening air, you led the way to the small café, the excitement bubbling in you. The city lights glimmered around you, the streets quieter now but still alive with a gentle energy.

When you arrived at the café, its warm, inviting glow immediately drew you in. The menu displayed colorful photos of towering bingsu creations, and you could already see Harry’s curiosity growing.

“You weren’t kidding,” he said, scanning the options. “This is next-level.”

“Pick whatever catches your eye,” you said, nudging him playfully. “But I’m warning you—if you go for the chocolate one, you’re missing the real experience.”

Harry smirked, leaning closer to the menu. “Alright, I trust you. You’re the expert. Surprise me.”

With a grin, you ordered a classic strawberry bingsu, complete with fresh fruit, sweet syrup, and a drizzle of condensed milk. When it arrived, the mountain of fluffy shaved ice and vibrant toppings looked like something out of a dream.

Harry stared at it, impressed. “Okay, I’ll admit, it looks amazing.”

“Wait until you taste it,” you said, handing him a spoon. “But don’t eat too fast, or you’ll get brain freeze.”

As you both dug in, Harry’s eyes widened at the first bite. “Alright, you win,” he said, laughing. “This is incredible. Gelato’s got some competition.”

“See?” you said smugly, taking a bite of your own. “Told you.”

The two of you shared the dessert, trading bites and laughing when Harry inevitably ate too fast and winced from the cold. It was a small moment, but one that felt bigger—an easy, shared joy that made the night even sweeter.

...

Leaving the café, you both agreed a short stroll would be perfect to get the digestion moving. The night air was crisp but pleasant, and the gentle glow of streetlights illuminated the path ahead as your footsteps fell into an easy rhythm.

Conversation flowed naturally, weaving between topics like threads in a tapestry. Harry told you a story about his childhood—something about a particularly disastrous attempt at baking with his sister—and you laughed so hard you had to stop walking for a moment to catch your breath. In return, you shared a memory of your own, painting a vivid picture of your younger self that had Harry grinning ear to ear.

From there, the conversation shifted to your current lives—work, hobbies, even the little mundane things that you didn’t realize could feel so interesting when shared with him. He listened intently, his eyes sparkling with genuine curiosity, and you found yourself surprised by how easy it was to open up.

As you passed a quiet park, Harry slowed his pace, glancing at you with a soft smile. “Y/N,” he said, his voice thoughtful, “you’re so easy to talk to. It’s like… I don’t have to think too hard about what I say or how I say it. I’m just—comfortable.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you smiled back, warmth spreading through your chest. “I feel the same,” you admitted, tucking your hands into your jacket pockets. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a conversation that just… flows, you know?”

He nodded, his expression growing even softer. “I’m really happy I met you.”

You glanced at him, your smile widening. “Me too. Tonight’s been… really nice.”

Harry chuckled, brushing his hand through his hair. “Nice is an understatement. I think tonight’s been one for the books.”

As you continued walking, the silence between you was no longer empty—it was full of unspoken understanding, the kind that comes when two people feel truly seen. The night seemed to stretch endlessly ahead, and you weren’t in any rush to get to the next moment for the first time in a long while. This one was perfect just as it was.

...

Can’t wait for the next one I have in store!

[stylesonfilms]

ink & innocence - 30

word count: 4.0k

The following Monday, Harry opened shop.

His hand, still bandaged, flipped through the scheduling book. His finger traced down the page until he found today's date, skimming along who would come in and at what time. Harry took a mental note and sighed, grateful that his dominant hand wasn't the one that was injured. But work was work, he didn't have a choice. Niall and Zayn wouldn't have been able to take over, not with these endless listings.

Louis and Liam had reached out to him Saturday night, sending their condolences and offering to come in to help the other boys if Harry didn't feel ready. He appreciated it, though he brushed them off with the same ease he would have used months ago. Months before he met Aspen. 

The thought of her name made him shudder and his shoulders drop. His ears peaked at the muffled song in the break room, a scowl forming on his face. Fucking Niall and his stupid Taylor Swift.

"I wish I could unrecall it all, how we almost had it all."

Harry swung the door open, the handle hitting the wall behind it. Niall had been sitting with gloves on, etching ink into a slab of fake silicone skin they used to practice in while his head bobbed and mouth moved with the words.

"Turn that shit off," Harry grunted, tossing a package of sterile needles at his head before slamming the door shut. He huffed, clenching his fingers into fists momentarily before the song was turned off and quiet flooded the shop once more.

The chime of the door sounded after, Zayn scruffing his boots on the mat before he shrugged off his coat and hung it up.

Zayn was the only one who knew what happened between Aspen and Harry, besides Isobel. At least, he figured as such if Aspen had returned back to the car in that same shattered state he saw her leave in.

Although Harry kept his eyes forward as he tossed supplies onto his tray, too focused on what he was doing to greet Zayn, the brown eyed man kept his gaze on his friend for a while as he made his way to the schedule.

It was best not to mention anything, at least for now. Harry was a ticking time bomb when he was upset, and Zayn had never been there for heartbreak for Harry. He didn't even know if the lad had ever had a phase of that.

"So," Zayn spoke first as he cleared his throat, flipping through the book, "got a back piece today?"

"Yep," Harry responded blandly, pulling out a fresh box of ink and sliced a blade through the tape to prop it open.

The room fell quiet after that, just the sounds of the faint hum from the gun Niall used in the other room and the ruffling on Harry's end. 

Zayn sighed. "Look, man—."

"No." 

Harry cut him off, setting the ink bottles down with a hard thud. This was not the time nor place for that conversation, and Harry was sure he didn't want to have it ever.

Niall exited the room, holding the slab of fake flesh in his hands.

"Well, it's not too shabby, ri—. Oh." Niall caught glimpse of Harry's angered furrow between his brows as he set up the supply cabinet, and Zayn who was eyeing him with a piercing gaze. Harry was the one to glance over at Niall, falling to the work in his hands.

"Looks good." He said as his gaze went back to what he was doing, breaking down the box before tucking it into the recycle. 

"Thanks, Harold!" Niall grinned, tossing it down onto the table with a gentle thud before stripping his hands clean of the gloves. 

Niall didn't know what was going on, frankly. All he knew what that Harry got his ass beat and police had gotten involved, that's what he heard from Louis, anyways. But it wasn't like he needed to know. Whatever it was, Harry was his friend, damn near a brother. If he wanted to talk, he would. But for now, Niall could only offer no sense of change. Harry hated change. Hated being noticed, hated things being pointed out, hated when his chair had been lifted or lowered. 

So, he beamed a big smile and walked towards Harry to nudge him on the shoulder before leaning against the counter, crossing his arms. 

"How's it feel to be booked and busy, lads? Gosh, do you guys remembered when we first opened? Louis was here, we all were. And we had, what, three clients a week? Only if we were lucky."

Zayn puffed out a small laugh, fingers digging into the keyboard as he clocked in. Harry only hummed, though the memory flashed through his mind.

"There," Louis grinned, slapping the sign and they all watched as it swung on its metal hinges outside of the shop. He stepped down from the latter, tossing the hammer into the toolbox beside his feet with a satisfied sigh.

Harry looked up with a proud look, though his lips remained pursed. "Can't believe we did that," he breathed out, shifting on his feet to look at the white lettering on the glass window, his eyes scanning over the different tables and trays and cabinets. 

They all had finished setting up, the sign being their final hook on the wall before everything came together. Everything inside was pristine and neat, untouched and eager to be used by clients. 

"You did this, H. We work for you, Mr. Styles," Niall joked, though he set his hands on his hips as he followed Harry's gaze. 

"No," Harry said after a beat, shaking his head. He turned to look at the boys, lips finally cracking a smile. "We all did this, we're all gonna do this."

Things didn't change much. They were all proud of their work, Harry most of all. He built this place to be his second home. Over the span of months and years, they all chipped in to bring the shop to life. The white walls were replaced with black ones, big framed paintings from Zayn bringing them to life.

Sketchbooks scattered on display with different sketches and ideas and stencils for clients to flip through. That was a main selling point for their shop. Clients buzzed online about how raw their talent was, and how they were so open and vulnerable with their mistakes in their art just as they were with their successful pieces.

The low hum of the tattoo machine in the back room was soon joined by the chime of the front door opening. Harry instinctively glanced up from his tray, his hand already brushing over the tops of the ink bottles he’d just organized. The movement was automatic, his routine muscle memory, but his thoughts were miles away.

A pair of clients walked in, chatting softly and pointing to the designs in the display book near the waiting area. Harry adjusted the black bandana around his wrist, straightened his shoulders, and forced himself to push aside the storm brewing in his chest. He couldn’t afford to slip up—not here, not now.

Niall greeted the newcomers with his usual upbeat energy, leading one of them toward the consultation counter. Zayn, now settled at his station, leaned back in his chair and gestured for the other client to join him. Harry, staying quiet, stepped forward as the third figure walked through the door. It was his client for the day—a tall man with a shaved head and a sleeve already in progress.

“You Styles?” the man asked, his voice gruff but polite.

“Yeah. That’s me,” Harry replied, his tone steady despite the lump forming in his throat. He motioned for the guy to follow him to his station. “Come on back.”

As they walked, Harry’s eyes flickered to the appointment book on the counter, confirming the name and design he’d sketched for this particular session. It was a continuation of the man’s sleeve—a roaring lion’s head that would stretch across his forearm. Normally, Harry would feel a spark of excitement at tackling a piece like this. But today, there was only a quiet numbness, a fog that refused to lift.

He pulled out the sketch he’d prepared the night before, laying it flat on the worktable as his client nodded in approval. “Looks good, man. Real good,” the man said.

Harry offered a tight-lipped smile and a small nod. “Let’s get started, then.”

He handed the client a clipboard with the standard paperwork and went to wash his hands. As the warm water flowed over his skin, his gaze dropped to his reflection in the stainless steel sink. The bandages on his knuckles had started to fray, and his stitches still itched beneath his temple and cheekbone. He used to look at his injuries and feel a sense of resilience, pride even, at how he pushed through whatever life threw at him. Now, the sight of them only reminded him of Aspen—her tear-filled eyes, her trembling voice as she told him she needed space.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d really looked at himself in the mirror. Every glance felt like punishment, the bruises and cuts on his face no longer symbols of strength but of failure. Failure to protect the people he cared about, failure to be the man Aspen believed in.

Harry dried his hands and slipped on a fresh pair of gloves. Back at his station, he sanitized the area, pulled out the stencil, and prepped his tray with the precision of someone who’d done this a thousand times. His client sat patiently, scrolling through his phone as Harry positioned the stencil on his arm.

“This placement good for you?” Harry asked, holding the man’s arm steady as he checked the angles.

“Yeah, perfect,” the man said with a nod.

Harry peeled the stencil away and moved to set up his tattoo machine. The hum of the needle filled the air as he adjusted the voltage and tested the grip. The sound usually calmed him, grounding him in the art he loved. But today, it only seemed to amplify the noise in his head.

He leaned forward, beginning the outline of the lion’s mane. His hand was steady, his movements precise, but his thoughts were anything but.

Aspen’s face lingered in his mind like a photograph burned into his memory. The way her lips trembled as she said space might be for the better. The way her voice cracked when she admitted how much it hurt to see him like this. He’d replayed her words over and over in his mind, dissecting every syllable, every pause.

He missed her. God, he missed her. It was a physical ache, one that tightened his chest and twisted his stomach every time he closed his eyes. She’d been his light in the darkness, his anchor when everything else felt like it was slipping away. And now she was gone—because of him. Because of his lies, his mistakes, his inability to keep the promises he’d made to her.

Harry shook his head subtly, trying to clear the image of her tear-streaked cheeks. His client glanced at him briefly, but Harry kept his focus on the tattoo, shading in the intricate details of the lion’s fur.

“Everything good?” the man asked, noticing Harry’s brief moment of distraction.

“Yeah,” Harry muttered, his voice low. “Just concentrating.”

The client nodded and relaxed again, but Harry’s mind was far from settled. He thought about the nights he’d spent tossing and turning since Aspen walked out. How he’d stared at his ceiling for hours, haunted by the look in her eyes when she said she didn’t regret being with him but wished he’d been honest. The weight of her words crushed him every time they replayed in his head.

He thought about the little things he missed—her shy smile, the way she’d twist the ends of her hair when she was nervous, the way her laugh sounded like music on a quiet afternoon. She was everywhere and nowhere all at once, and it was driving him mad.

As Harry switched needles and began shading the lion’s jawline, he felt the familiar sting of guilt creeping in. He’d hurt her in ways he never thought possible, and the pain of knowing he’d let her down was unbearable. He wanted to call her, to show up at her door and beg for another chance. But how could he, when he couldn’t even face himself in the mirror?

The hum of the tattoo machine continued, blending with the faint sounds of chatter from the other stations. Harry focused on his work, pouring every ounce of his energy into the design. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t escape the ghost of Aspen’s sadness or the hollow ache in his chest.

For the first time in a long time, Harry felt truly lost—and he wasn’t sure if he’d ever find his way back.

The rest of the week dragged by in the same, mind-numbing blur of routine.

Harry would wake up in the dim light filtering through his blinds, the weight of his exhaustion pressing him deeper into the mattress. He’d force himself to throw the blanket over his wrinkled sheets in a half-hearted attempt at normalcy, a futile effort to convince himself he still had some semblance of order in his life. His shower was quick, more out of obligation than need, the steam fogging up the mirror he avoided looking into. He didn’t need to see the man staring back at him. He already knew what he’d find—the bruises, the guilt, the weakness.

After dressing, Harry would shuffle to the kitchen, Jasper padding after him with hopeful eyes. The little cat’s energy was a stark contrast to Harry’s lifeless demeanor. He’d crouch down, scratch Jasper’s head, and let the faint purring soothe him for a moment before the guilt crept back in.

You’re a shit boyfriend, don’t be a shit pet owner too, he’d think, guilt pooling in his chest as he filled Jasper’s bowl. He lingered there, watching the cat eat, trying to muster up the energy to play. But most days, it felt forced. Jasper would swat at his hand or chase a toy Harry half-heartedly tossed, and the moment would pass too quickly, leaving him alone with his thoughts again.

Work wasn’t much better. The buzzing of the tattoo machine no longer held the comfort it once did. It used to ground him, the vibration in his hand a constant reminder of the art he loved, the skill he’d honed for years. Now, it felt hollow. Every client he worked on, every intricate line and carefully shaded detail, felt like going through the motions. The usual satisfaction he found in seeing a piece come together was missing, replaced by a numbness that lingered no matter how hard he tried to shake it.

And when the day finally ended, Harry would trudge back home, dropping his keys onto the counter with a clatter that echoed in the silence. He’d grab a joint or crack open a beer—or three—anything to dull the ache gnawing at him. But no matter how much he smoked or drank, the guilt was always there, lurking in the back of his mind like a shadow he couldn’t escape. When he finally passed out, it was never restful. His dreams were fragmented, flashes of Aspen’s tear-streaked face and the words she’d said before leaving.

By Friday, Harry felt like he was hanging on by a thread. The shop had cleared out, and the silence left him alone with his thoughts once more. He slid on a fresh pair of gloves, the snap of the latex punctuating the quiet as he stared down at the metal surface of his workstation. His fingers tapped absently against the table, his eyes fixed on the reflection of his tools.

“Just a stupid fucking mirror,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. “Just look up, Harry.”

He took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling as he braced himself. With a sharp exhale, he snapped his head up, his green eyes locking onto his reflection in the mirror. His stomach churned. He hadn’t looked at himself properly all week, and now that he did, the sight made his chest tighten.

The swelling under his eye was gone, replaced by fading yellows and greens that stained his skin like a cruel reminder of everything that had happened. His stitches were healing, the angry red lines still visible against his pale complexion. But it wasn’t just the bruises and cuts that unsettled him— it was his eyes. They looked hollow, the vibrant green dulled by sleepless nights and a guilt that weighed heavier than any physical wound.

He glanced down at his lip, where his piercing was conspicuously absent. The small, empty dot felt like a metaphor for how he’d been feeling— hollow, incomplete. Harry’s hand moved on instinct, grabbing the sterile needle from its packaging. He flipped the tab, removed the plastic covering, and swirled it in the sterilizing liquid, his movements precise and methodical.

Sliding the black ring into place, he swabbed the area with antiseptic, the cool liquid soothing the irritated skin. He stared at his reflection again, his lips pressing into a thin line as he studied the new piercing. It didn’t make him feel better, not really. But it was something— a distraction, a fleeting sense of control in a life that felt like it was slipping through his fingers.

Before he could think too much about it, his hands were already reaching for another needle. He tore the package open, grabbed the clamps, and tapped the rim to dry off the excess sterilizing liquid. The motions were automatic, his hands steady as he lined up the needle above his brow.

When the needle hovered over the area of his brow, he hesitated. His jaw clenched, and for a brief moment, he thought about Aspen. Would she hate this? Would she think he was reckless, stupid, weak? The thought tightened his chest, but before he could talk himself out of it, he pushed the needle forward. A sharp sting followed, a brief moment of pain that was almost comforting in its simplicity. At least this pain made sense.

The pinch of the needle was sharp but brief, followed by the familiar satisfaction of threading the jewelry through. He twisted the spiked ends of the black barbell into place, his reflection staring back at him with an almost defiant edge. He didn’t bother marking the spot beforehand; his precision didn’t need it. If nothing else, Harry knew he was damn good at his job.

As he swabbed the fresh piercing and cleaned up the mess he’d made, he muttered to himself, his voice low and bitter. “Damn shame I’m better at this than keeping my life together.”

The truth of his own words stung more than the needle ever could.

That night, Harry found himself trudging to the bar just around the corner, his steps heavy against the cracked sidewalk. He didn’t drive anymore. His car had sat untouched outside the shop since last Thursday, the keys abandoned in his jacket pocket. Walking had become his escape. The howling wind bit at his exposed skin, the rustle of the trees filling the otherwise empty streets, but he welcomed it. Out here, there was nothing to distract him—no blaring horns, no stoplights, no bustling crowds. Just his footsteps against the pavement and the dark thoughts swirling in his mind.

He pulled open the bar's heavy wooden door, the warm air inside hitting his face as he stepped into the dimly lit room. The familiar scent of spilled whiskey and stale cigarettes wrapped around him like a blanket, almost comforting in its unpleasantness. Harry slapped a ten-dollar bill on the counter without a word, his bloodshot eyes meeting the bartender’s for a brief moment.

Two shot glasses clinked against the polished wood as the bartender slid them toward him. Harry didn’t hesitate. One after the other, the shots burned their way down his throat, the familiar fire momentarily dulling the ache in his chest. He slammed the second glass down with a hollow satisfaction, the sharp clink punctuating the dull roar of chatter and clinking glasses around him.

But it wasn’t enough.

Pulling out his wallet again, Harry tossed thirty more onto the counter, his movements jerky and impatient.

The bartender eyed him warily. “I can’t serve you for another five—”

“Am I paying you to lecture me,” Harry cut in, his voice sharp and low, “or am I paying you to do your damn job?” He shoved the stack of cash closer, his jaw tightening as he stared the man down.

With a disgruntled mutter, the bartender complied, sliding three more shots in front of him. Harry didn’t wait. He downed them in rapid succession, each one hitting his stomach like a punch, but he welcomed the pain. Anything was better than the guilt gnawing at him.

The whiskey neat he ordered afterward went untouched for a while, the amber liquid sitting untouched in its glass as Harry stirred his soda absently. The black straw circled the ice cubes in a rhythmic motion, the faint clinking sound blending into the background noise. His mind drifted, the alcohol dulling the edges of his thoughts but not erasing them.

Aspen’s face kept flashing behind his closed eyelids, how upset she’d looked the last time he saw her. Her voice, her tears, the way she had walked away without looking back. His chest tightened. What the hell was wrong with him? How had he let it get this bad?

The sound of heels clicking against the floor snapped him out of his thoughts. Two light taps on his shoulder followed, and Harry glanced over, his brow furrowed. His vision had started to blur around the edges, but he could still make out the blonde woman standing beside him, her expression dripping with fake confidence and practiced charm.

“Can I help you?” he muttered, his voice low and laced with irritation.

She giggled, the sound grating against his nerves. “Uh-huh,” she chirped, her gum snapping as she leaned closer. “Can I get your number?”

Harry exhaled a sharp breath, shaking his head. “No, I’ll pass. I’ve got a girlfriend.”

The word felt foreign on his tongue, like he didn’t deserve to say it anymore. Was Aspen even still his girlfriend? He didn’t know. But it didn’t matter. The girl didn’t know Aspen, didn’t know the mess Harry had made of things. She wouldn’t call him out on the lie.

Her manicured nail dragged down the inked lines of his arm as she ignored his rejection, her voice turning syrupy. “Well, I don’t see her sooo...” She let the word linger, her gum snapping again as she gave him a coy smile. “I really like your tattoos.”

Harry’s jaw clenched, and he shrugged her hand off, standing abruptly and grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair. The room swayed slightly as he moved, the alcohol making his steps unsteady.

“I said hard pass,” he gritted out, his voice sharp. “I’m not into air bags.”

It wasn't like he had to analyze her chest to know how exaggerated her work had been. No one's boobs sit that high with that much definition.

Her jaw dropped slightly, her expression shifting from flirtatious to offended, but Harry didn’t stick around to see her reaction. He pushed past her, the leather of his jacket creaking as he pulled it on and shoved the door open. The cold night air hit him like a slap, but it wasn’t enough to clear his head.

The alcohol coursing through his veins fueled his frustration as he walked aimlessly, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. His steps slowed as he found himself outside Zayn’s apartment building, the familiar red bricks staring back at him. He didn’t know why he was here. Maybe he just needed to talk to someone, someone who might actually understand, even if Harry wasn’t sure he could say the words out loud.

Before he could second-guess himself, his fist was knocking against Zayn’s door. Three sharp raps that echoed down the quiet hallway. His head hung low as he waited, his breath fogging in the cold air. When the door opened, Harry didn’t even lift his gaze.

“Can I come in?” he muttered, his voice slurred and broken, the weight of the week finally catching up to him.

[maudie-duan]

Posting Chapter 7 tomorrow!! Harry's POV

All Chapters Here <-

Series Summary: For nearly two years, Harry has been fighting to keep his relationship with Olivia afloat. At what point does he make the choice to either endure or let the strain of the world defeat his ambitious hopes of a lasting relationship? Or will a single night and a fleeting encounter be enough to change the projection of Harry’s path? Maybe our ‘Mystery Girl,’ Shiloh, will happen to be in the right place at the right time. 

All Chapters Here <-

Tag List: Always Open

A/N: You guys, this is my first series; bear with me. In no way, shape, or form is this meant to follow Harry’s actual life, nor are the facts or timelines real. This story will be from Harry and Shiloh’s POVs. I like switching between them. I’m nosy, and you get more details this way. So, if you like details, you’re in the right place. This story will be a slow burn, so hold tight. I’m glad you’re here!!! ENJOY!!!!

Word Count: 2K

Warning: Strong language, minor angst, eventual smut, emotional. *SLOW BURNER*

I don’t usually think of how my relationships will end, but I’ve been thinking about our ending—the consequence of our beginning looming over our heads as if it were a pleading prayer whispered into the night.

When “I love you” no longer sufficed, the emptiness that stretched out between us and how fickle we were. How we continued seeking tiny moments, desperate to fill that void—A revolving door of new faces and places where we lay tucked away, pressing our bodies together like puzzle pieces, hoping that one day they would fit together—indefinitely.

Surely, we knew this wasn’t going to work, right? From the beginning, we’ve been on two different parallels, trying to make this work, trying to force a path through murky water when neither one of us knew when or how the tide would roll in—and here I am, miserable out of my fucking mind. In a shit head space just waiting for this evening to end because there’s nothing worse than getting into a massive blowout right before an event. I can’t figure out what’s worse, the fight or the forced niceties. The last place I wanted to be was in public, but this is my life.

Olivia was on about something—actually, I don’t even remember what the fight was about this time, and that’s what it’s been lately. These bullshit fights about petty, senseless matters that take more energy to create than they do to fix. It’s just that she’s gotten so jealous and paranoid that I’m growing distant, that she’s the only one fighting to be in this relationship, and maybe she’s right.

—Side note: Before tonight, I really hadn’t been interested in anyone. Honest to god, I was truly in this wholeheartedly.

Anyone who knows me knows I’m constantly in the public eye, even if I think I’m lying low. There’s always a chance that someone will recognize me. The chances of someone taking a picture are even greater because everyone needs proof, or it didn’t happen, right? I personally don’t believe in this—but to each their own—If you know me and who I am, that’s precisely what you get. She knew this when we met, yet she insists that every move I make is for the world, like I can’t comprehend all of the sacrifices that she has made to be with me. Trust me, I know, and as of late, she’s taken every opportunity to throw it back in my face. 

In all honesty, I know that relationships take work, but isn’t there supposed to be balance? Somewhere along the way, we’ve lost that. We both jumped in feet first and now life seems to be catching up even faster—the constant push and pull in every direction is getting old. Everyone wants something, and she wants the most. It’s like she doesn’t understand the sacrifices that I’ve made. It’s not easy being the world’s biggest pop star and falling in love, but I felt she was worth it at the time.

And now she wants more—Roots that I can’t seem to give her. It’s like I’ve only just begun to find my own footing, stepping into the skin that finally feels right, that’s mine, and she wants nothing to do with it—She wants the control. She wants me to align with whatever she thinks our life should be.

I mean, I get it. I understand wanting the security of always knowing your next move or having a better grasp, but surely Olivia knew what she was getting herself into. It can’t be this big surprise that our life together isn’t panning out into what she had imagined, and the shittest part about it is that I don’t even want to try anymore. I don’t want the things that Olivia is trying to project onto me with every fight that ends with her begging me to choose her—is that not what I’ve been doing this whole time?

I’m lost in thought when Olivia whispers something into my ear. She had gone on and on about this Gucci Cruise show and was pissed when I decided I didn’t want to sit front row. I didn’t want to distract from the show or draw unwanted attention. Especially after that fight—God, that stupid fucking fight that left her in tears, her makeup a wet smear all over her face, almost making us late. 

Tonight was supposed to be memorable. How many people get the chance to attend a Gucci show? This was my first. It’s an honor that I wanted to appreciate and take in with the gratitude I feel not only for the brand but also for the friends I’ve grown quite close to.

“I just feel like the whole point of coming to a fashion show is to sit in with the audience and have a genuine experience of the clothes and the people—” Her comment is pointed and sets me off, so I do the asshole thing and walk toward someone I know leaving her alone with her underhanded comment.

Eventually, I walk over to the edge of the curtain, peering out into the crowd, trying to pinpoint faces I’ll see later, making a list of people I want to see or possibly avoid. As I skim the front row, my eyes land on a woman who looks vaguely familiar. Still, I can’t put a finger on it. She sticks out like a sore thumb. For instance, she is one of the few wearing dark sunglasses in a dimly lit room. Making her stand out in all black, except for the few accents that set her apart from everyone else around her, who are dripping with vibrant colors, something you would expect at a Gucci show—wild statement pieces, different patterns, and textures that ebb and flow amongst each other.

She was magnetic in a way that made it hard for me to look away. The light played off her features, creating a soft aura. A delicate ray of pink traced a faint glow around her. I couldn’t tell if it was an illusion or a trick of the mind in my rose-colored glasses. When I lowered my frames to get a clearer view, I found that she was just as stunning without them—and still, to this day, I can’t explain the feeling; it was like my soul took the lead, reaching out, hoping to find a tether. A single piece of thread that could tie me to her.

And there I stood, my mind spinning out of control. I don’t even know how long I stood there. How long I continued watching her, captivated by how the light seemed to dance with the shadows every time a model passed in front of her. Another thing I noticed was her ruby-red lips. How they spread into a shy smile, the light catching the gleam of her white teeth—a sight I imagined could be seen from anywhere in the room if you were fortunate enough to catch it. I observed her as she straightened upright and crossed her legs, almost as if she had suddenly become aware of her surroundings. Was she nervous? 

Her hair was slicked back into a sleek bun, tight against her scalp, making her features more pronounced and giving her a tidier appearance than everyone else. This timeless look could set anyone apart from the crowd, but what really caught my eye was the gilded chain dress that hugged her all-black attire underneath. I wanted to see her stand up. I wanted to know how the light played off the delicate beads draped from the woven metal. I wondered if it was uncomfortable for her or if she realized she stood out more than the celebrities around her. She had to be someone important, right? Not just anyone can sit front row at a Gucci show—Who is she?

As if she sensed my gaze, her head abruptly turned toward the curtains, causing me to jump back and bump into Olivia. “What the hell?” I hissed. 

Olivia stepped back, eyes wide, my words landing with a bite. I thought, “fuck is she about to make a scene?”—and yes, the bitterness was unnecessary, but it came more from defense than anger. I didn’t want to be found out. What was I doing anyway? How long had she been standing there? Could she see what I was looking at? Or could I pretend that I was trying to get a better view of the show, which was technically true, right?

“Can we please start over tonight?” she asks, almost pleading. “I know tonight is special for you.” Olivia runs her hands up my chest and cups my face.

“Okay…” I exhale. I want to have a good time, but a part of me knows I would enjoy myself more without her here, and it’s this very feeling that will haunt me all night, my thoughts like demons filling the room—unwanted guests that I’m no longer sure I want to keep at bay, and I know this isn’t fair. 

I couldn’t tell if it was the after party or the drinks that came with it, but eventually, the mind fog that plagued me throughout the evening began to lift. It was like a breath of fresh air, each drink diluting the pressure; the animosity threaded into every conversation Olivia and I had was evaporating. I could let go of the stress and relax into the theme of the night—and that was to have fun and fucking enjoy myself because I work hard, dammit.

It was getting easier to play into Olivia’s game of putting on for the coward. This was the part she liked; she loved putting on in a room full of people. She fucking thrived on the attention—she loved wearing me like a glove she could take on and off whenever she pleased. 

I was already three drinks in when I spotted my 'Mystery Girl' It surprised me—she was much shorter than I had imagined, but something felt compelling about her presence, her stature, long and lean.

When she finally looked my way, I instinctively put my arm around Olivia, feeding into the lie, feeling like a fool when her eyes flitted over me with no recognition, piercing my ego in one swift look. I didn’t know what I thought would happen…actually, I’ll tell you exactly what I thought would happen. I thought my presence alone would be enough to garner her attention. Instead, I stood there stunned when her eyes lingered on Olivia, sending her a friendly smile as she mouthed the words, “I love your dress,” pulling at the strap of her dress to drive her compliment home.

Astonished, I stood by, holding my breath as the transaction morphed into Olivia mouthing a returned compliment, making ‘Mystery Girl’ beam and my chest swell with jealousy as she turned away, not even sparing me a second glance. She moved through the room effortlessly, like a hummingbird, moving from flower to flower fast yet graceful, donning that beautiful smile that had me begging her to look my way—just one more time. That’s all I would need. 

Was she a journalist? It seemed like everyone knew who she was. She spoke to everyone she encountered with such ease that each conversation I noticed flowed as if they were friends—though perhaps they were, but how was I to know? At some point, I lost her in the night, or maybe I knew I had to release her from my thoughts. I wanted to end the night on a high note, not go home with a suspecting partner to whom I would have to explain myself later. 

So, by drink five, I was being pulled onto the stage by Stevie, duetting a few songs, and as I closed my eyes, singing out the lines:

Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?

Can the child within my heart rise above? 

Can I sail through the changin’ ocean tides?

Can I handle the seasons of my life?

I opened my eyes as we swayed into the chorus, browsing the crowd. My gaze locked with Olivia’s, who was crying, tears streaming down her face, a pained look of grief stealing her features. We shared a look of understanding. Maybe even realization, but it hit me hard, the sadness creeping up my spine as she turned and moved away from the crowd, and I noticed her bump into Alessandro, who caught her by the arm with a concerned look on his face. I pulled away from the microphone, my voice choking up, and I let Stevie take over. We both knew that our world was crumbling right before our eyes and when I glanced back over, searching for Olivia, she was gone. 

A/N: Yo, Harry, one thing at a time...Ya'll let me know in the comments what you think.

All Chapters Here <-

[sweetcherryharry]

sour — 02: traitor

Synopsis: Harry and Y/N were the "it" couple from 2013 to mid-2014, until things got extremely messy and they broke up. based on the album 'sour' by olivia rodrigo.

(masterlist)

Brown Green guilty eyes and little white lies Yeah, I played dumb but I always knew That you'd talk to her, maybe did even worse I kept quiet so I could keep you

The image of Harry's face, etched with guilt and tinged with a flicker of deceit, flashed through Y/N's mind. His green guilty eyes, as she now thought of them, held a secret, a truth he had desperately tried to conceal. But Y/N, with the intuition honed by months of shared intimacy, had sensed the shift in his gaze, the subtle change in his demeanor.

She recalled a particular evening, just weeks before their breakup, when Harry had received a text message, his phone illuminating his face with an eerie glow. He had quickly glanced at the screen, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features before he hastily shoved the phone back into his pocket.

"Who was that?" Y/N had asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Oh, just Niall," Harry had replied a little too quickly, his voice a touch too casual. "He's asking about band practice tomorrow."

Y/N had accepted his explanation, but a seed of doubt had been planted in her mind. She knew Harry well enough to recognize when he was being evasive, when he was hiding something. And in that moment, she had felt a tremor of unease, a premonition that something was amiss.

Now, with the clarity of hindsight, Y/N realized that the text message had likely been from Nadine. The little white lies that Harry had sprinkled throughout their conversations, the subtle omissions and evasions, all pointed towards a truth he had desperately tried to conceal.

"I played dumb, but I always knew," she whispered one night to her best friend, one of those endless days where the hours seemed to stretch for forever, and her tears seemed unlimited. When she finally said it out loud, the words were heavy with regret and a touch of self-reproach. 

She had ignored her intuition, choosing to believe Harry's words over the whispers of her own heart. She had wanted to trust him, to hold onto the illusion of their perfect love, even as it crumbled around her.

The memory of another night surfaced, this one filled with laughter and whispered secrets. Y/N and Harry had been sprawled on the floor of his living room, surrounded by takeout containers and a half-finished bottle of wine. They had been talking about everything and nothing, their conversation flowing effortlessly as they shared their hopes, dreams, and fears.

At some point, the conversation had turned to relationships, and Harry had confessed to feeling suffocated by the intensity of their public image as a couple. Afterall, they were both A-listers and in the mere eye of the public. "It's hard," he had admitted, his voice laced with frustration. "We can't even go out for a coffee without being hounded by paparazzi. It feels like we're living in a fishbowl."

Y/N had understood his feelings, but she had also felt a pang of insecurity. "Do you ever wish things were different?" she had asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Harry had reached for her hand, his thumb tracing circles on her skin. "Never," he had said, his eyes locking with hers. "I love you, Y/N. And I wouldn't trade our relationship for anything."

But even as he spoke those words, Y/N had detected a flicker of doubt in his eyes, a hesitation that had sent a chill down her spine. Now, she realized that even then, he had been contemplating a different path, a future that didn't include her.

"So… he'd probably talk to her while he was with me, maybe did even worse," she murmured, the words catching in her throat. 

The thought of Harry with Nadine, their bodies entwined, their laughter mingling in the air, sent a wave of nausea through her. She had tried to push the image from her mind, but it lingered like a ghost, haunting her waking moments and invading her dreams.

The realization that Harry had betrayed her trust, that he had been unfaithful, cut deeper than any of his words or actions. It shattered the foundation of their relationship, leaving her feeling lost and alone.

Sarah –her best friend– held her hand, trying to comfort her. “And why didn’t you say anything?”

"I kept quiet so I could keep him, I fooled myself." she confessed, her voice cracking with emotion. She had been so afraid of losing him, of facing the reality of their crumbling relationship, that she had chosen to ignore the signs, to bury her doubts deep within her heart.

But her silence had been in vain. In the end, she had lost him anyway, and the pain of his betrayal was magnified by the knowledge that she had allowed herself to be deceived.

And ain't it funny How you ran to her The second that we called it quits? And ain't it funny How you said you were friends? Now it sure as hell don't look like it

Another lonely night stretched before Y/N, her thoughts consumed by images of Harry with his new girlfriend. She clutched her phone, Harry's contact open on the screen.  Her thumb hovered over the keyboard as she typed, "Ain't it funny how you ran to her the second we called it quits?"

The image of Harry and Nadine, hand in hand just weeks after their breakup, was a constant reminder of his betrayal. It was as if he had been waiting in the wings, ready to claim Nadine the moment Y/N was out of the picture.

"... and ain't it funny how you said you were friends?" she continued, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Harry had insisted that Nadine was just a friend, a nice girl, but that was it. But the speed with which their "friendship" had blossomed into a full-blown romance spoke volumes.

Y/N's mind drifted back to a conversation she'd had with Harry a few months before their breakup. They had been discussing a mutual acquaintance who had quickly started dating someone new after ending a long-term relationship.

"I don't understand how people can move on so quickly," Y/N had remarked, shaking her head in disbelief. "It's like their previous relationship meant nothing to them."

Harry had nodded in agreement. "It's disrespectful," he had said, his voice firm. "It's like they were already emotionally invested in someone else before the breakup even happened."

Y/N's stomach churned as she remembered those words. How could Harry have been so hypocritical? How could he have condemned someone else for the very behavior he was now exhibiting?

"Now it sure as hell doesn't look like it," she muttered, anger and hurt rising within her. The photos of Harry and Nadine, plastered across magazines and websites, were a constant reminder of his betrayal. They were laughing, kissing, their bodies entwined – their happiness a cruel mockery of Y/N's pain.

The injustice of it all burned in her chest. She had given Harry her heart, her trust, her everything. And he had thrown it all away, discarding her like a used tissue, replacing her without a second thought.

"Friends," she scoffed, the word leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. Harry's claims of friendship were a joke, a thinly veiled attempt to justify his actions. He had betrayed her, plain and simple. And the fact that he was trying to downplay his relationship with Nadine only added insult to injury.

Y/N's fists clenched, her nails digging into her palms. She wanted to scream, to lash out, to make him feel the pain he had inflicted on her. But she knew it was pointless. Harry had made his choice, and there was nothing she could do to change it.

You betrayed me And I know that you'll never feel sorry For the way I hurt, yeah You'd talk to her When we were together Loved you at your worst But that didn't matter

Y/N tossed and turned in her bed, the sheets tangled around her legs like a web of restless thoughts. Sleep was a distant luxury, replaced by the relentless replay of memories and the gnawing ache of betrayal. 

"I can’t believe he betrayed me," she whispered into the darkness, her voice cracking with unshed tears. "And I know that he’ll never feel sorry for the way I hurt. He doesn’t care"

The realization stung, sharp and piercing. Harry, with his carefree spirit and charming smile, had always seemed immune to remorse. He moved through life with an air of effortless grace, leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake. 

Y/N had seen it before, witnessed the casual way he'd dismissed past relationships, the nonchalance with which he'd shrugged off any responsibility for the pain he'd caused. And now, she was just another notch on his bedpost, another casualty of his fickle affections.

A wave of nausea washed over her as she remembered the countless times she'd excused his behavior, the endless justifications she'd concocted to explain away his flaws. "He's young," she'd tell herself. "He's still figuring things out."  Or, "He didn't mean to hurt me. He just doesn't understand the impact of his actions."

But deep down, she knew the truth. Harry wasn't clueless; he was careless. He was selfish. He had the whole world in his hands. And he would never truly grasp the depth of her pain, the way his betrayal had shattered her world.

The memories flooded back, relentless and unforgiving.  Late-night whispers, stolen glances, the lingering scent of Nadine's perfume clinging to his clothes. 

She remembered that from time to time, he’d talk to Nadine, while he was with her. Y/N choked at the thought, the knot catching in her throat. The realization that their relationship had been crumbling long before the official end, that Harry had been emotionally entangled with another while still in her arms, sent a fresh wave of agony through her.

And yet, she had loved him. Loved him through his mood swings, his insecurities, his moments of self-absorption. "Loved you at your worst," she whispered, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "But that didn't matter."

She had poured her heart and soul into their relationship, offering him unwavering support and unconditional love. She had forgiven his mistakes, overlooked his flaws, and celebrated his triumphs.  But in the end, it hadn't been enough. Her love, her loyalty, her devotion – none of it had mattered.

Y/N buried her face in her pillow, the tears finally flowing freely.  The pain was overwhelming, a suffocating weight that threatened to crush her.

It took you two weeks To go off and date her Guess you didn't cheat But you're still a traitor

The calendar on her nightstand mocked her with its red-circled date, a cruel reminder of the swiftness of Harry's betrayal. 

It took him two weeks to go off and date her. Two weeks. A mere fourteen days since their world had imploded, since the promises of forever had turned to dust. 

And in that blink of an eye, he had moved on, seamlessly transitioning from their intertwined hands to Nadine's eager embrace.

The injustice of it all clawed at her, a bitter taste in her mouth.  While she was drowning in a sea of grief, wrestling with the wreckage of their shared dreams, he was already building a new future, a future that excluded her entirely.

Guess he didn't cheat… 

she thought, a hollow victory in the face of overwhelming hurt. Technically, he hadn't physically strayed during their relationship. But the emotional infidelity, the clandestine conversations, the growing connection with Nadine while still under the guise of friendship – it all felt like a betrayal of the deepest kind.

But he’s still a traitor.

She accepted the words, a loud accusation in her mind. He had betrayed her trust, her love, her faith in their bond. He had chipped away at the foundation of their relationship, brick by agonizing brick, until it crumbled beneath the weight of his deceit.

The label stung, a brand seared onto her heart. Traitor. The word echoed in her mind, a constant reminder of his duplicity. He had played the role of a devoted boyfriend while secretly harboring feelings for another, weaving a web of lies that had ensnared them both.

God, I wish that you had thought this through Before I went and fell in love with you

A heavy sigh escaped Y/N's lips as she gazed out the window, the city lights blurring into a kaleidoscope of colors. The night was a mirror of her emotions, a jumbled mix of sadness, anger, and regret.

She wished he had thought this through.

The words hung in the air, a lament for a love that had been carelessly discarded.  If only Harry had paused, had taken a moment to truly consider the consequences of his actions, to weigh the depth of their connection against the fleeting allure of something new.  If only he had recognized the treasure he held in his hands before carelessly tossing it aside.

But wishes were futile, a hollow comfort in the face of a broken heart.  The past was immutable, a tapestry woven with threads of love, laughter, and ultimately, betrayal.  And now, Y/N was left to pick up the pieces, to mend the shattered fragments of her dreams and forge a new path forward.

The road ahead would be long and arduous, filled with challenges and setbacks.  There would be days when the pain threatened to consume her, when the memories of their shared past haunted her every waking moment.  But Y/N knew, deep in her heart, that she would survive this.  She would emerge from this crucible stronger, wiser, and more resilient than ever before.

She would learn to love herself, to trust her instincts, and to never again compromise her worth for the sake of another. She would embrace her independence, celebrate her strengths, and pursue her passions with unwavering determination.

And one day, when the wounds had healed and the scars had faded, she would find a love that was true, a love that would cherish and respect her, a love that would stand the test of time.

A love that would make her forget the pain of Harry's betrayal and remind her of the boundless capacity of the human heart to heal and love again.

[messyemmy]

How would y/n be around a very soft and shy Harry?

"SOFTBOY HARRY STYLES DRABBLE/BLURB"

(... So I fucked up, got carried away... H turned from very soft to sometimes soft-mostly shy, slutty boy. I apologise for my filthy brain!)

Other Writing

🍭

Ooh, an opportunity for the energetic, boisterous Y/n to tease and dote on him?? 

How could she turn that opportunity down?

Especially since this handsome and aloof specimen- all wrapped up in soft curls and a new knitted jumper each day- is the most interesting thing to happen at their workplace for god knows how long. 

Shy Harry who Y/n finds just so very cute- whenever she catches his gaze, always doe-eyed and seemingly caught by surprise, whenever any attention is sent his way, and a strong rosy blush creeps across his sweetheart face- she thinks he is simply adorable! 

Her coworkers are just as intrigued as she- fascinated with the new data analyst and his standoffish demeanour. He keeps to himself, mumbling greetings and questions with a shortness that leaves most wondering who the hell his deal is. 

Especially when he always declines invitations for lunch and drinks after hours, even after almost six months of employment, he seems to be as curt as day one. 

So, naturally, it becomes Y/n’s mission to win over his affections… and with the knowledge of his favourite bagels and preferred coffee, it’s not hard to soften him when she delivers them so casually to his desk each morning. 

Well, ‘soften’ means that he no longer jumps when she sweetly sings, “Mornin’ Harry!” and now, he even smiles timidly and thanks her. 

So she starts to add in little quips, jokes about the weather, and Pete, the worst secretary of all time.

Then it turns to offhand compliments, "those glasses really frame your face", "you have such nice handwriting!", "Where'd you get such pretty eyelashes, huh?" Anything to get his juicy cheeks to swell with basfulness.

Harry’s unsure of what to do in these situations- no matter how many nights he’s thought over how and what he could do in response, every single time Y/n greets him- her eyes as bright as her personality- he feels the words slip from his tongue, too busy revelling in her crooked smile. 

There’s gotta be some way for Harry to show his appreciation for her gestures… he has ideas of simply buying her favourite coffee, or perhaps asking how her day’s going… and he has ideas of grandeur, gently squishing her chubby cheeks between his palms and planting the most grateful of kisses on her always-glossy lips… or getting on his knees for her, saying thank you like the goodest of boys. 

It’s only late into the end-of-year corporate party when Harry is a glass and a half down the finest whisky that’s ever graced his tongue- and Y/n is over there by the fireplace, the back of her legs bare, facing the fireplace, greatly engrossed in a conversation with a colleague- that he finally finds himself in her hold.

Maybe it’s the fact that they’re no longer in a ‘work’ environment, or perhaps it has to do with that sparkling silver draped so perfectly across her curves… What ultimately encourages Harry to make his move is the anything-but-subtle glances- even winks- she keeps sending his way. 

He finds himself unable to stop the gravitational pull that lures him straight into her arms, which are quickly slung across his shoulders. 

Once he has her slotted between himself and a wall, she’s too receptive for his shyness to regain control, pressing such sweet, sloppy kisses along his clavicle, up his neck, behind his ear- a quick flick of the tongue to his lobe. 

He’s a shuddering mess, but he can’t feel an ounce of shame as her skin so easily goosebumps under the strokes of his wandering hands. 

Her little sighs and near-moans are like a melody, it has Harry forgetting about anything and everything outside of the feel of her leg hooked to his thigh, the tantalising tugs and scratches her nails leave at the nape of his neck. 

What Harry is most grateful for is her lack of questions. She doesn’t bring up their ‘awkward’ encounters, too fixated on the excitement of his sudden surety to mock his switch in demeanour.

So, even when the drive back to her apartment is rather quiet, the scalding pressure of her soft palm in his own is surety enough. 

 It’s like she knew without words and soothes his racing thoughts to a silence that leaves him rushing with arousal and endearment. 

And then, oh boy. 

Nobody said Harry was shy in the bedroom. 

The opposite couldn't be more true. He’s a chatty little thing- while he slowly unzips and strips her of her dress, in between hasty kisses, praising her each time a new part of her stands exposed to him. 

Y/n revels in the way his eyes are devoid of their usual doubt, oozing dark desire at the mere sight of her- the only thing he questions is where to start- where to lick and nip and squeeze at first. 

Y/n underestimated this- but she shouldn't be surprised by his eager and ambitious desire to please. To do a good job- the best job. 

He has her everywhere- bent over, back arched, his hand curled in her hair; his expansive palms squeezing her hips as she bounces above him; her thighs clamped around his head; fisting the sheets and suffocating him with both her thighs her moans. 

And he’s all, “You’re such a good girl”, “Taking me so well, “Like it when I make you squirm, sweetheart?” 

So, naturally, Y’n’s all, “Please please please please”. 

In the break of day, waking up to the gentle rays of sun, the faint snores of Y/n snuggled against him, all of that anxiety comes rushing back to Harry and he’s close to exploding with embarrassment, thoughts spiralling of what a huge mess he’s just made. 

But Y/n unknowingly soothes him- moments away from a panic attack- with the promise of freshly brewed coffee and brekkie. She only comments on his verbal enthusiasm once, simply stating that she liked his voice. 

Back at work on Monday, Harry can’t help himself from slipping back into his comfortably isolated bubble. 

It’s not like the world changed- even if the only thing he can truly be certain about is how much he’s come to like Y/n, and how badly he wants to spend more time with her- to let her listen to him ramble on… about anything and everything. He’s sure she’d listen… maybe even enjoy what he has to say.

When he greets her the same as every day before, it leaves a little sting in her heart, and for the first time, she feels doubtful about how Harry sees her. 

Y/n is elated with the new developments between her and Harry- she likes that he trusts her enough to break his vow of silence, even if it did take some coaxing. But she’d be silly to think he would suddenly do a 180 and turn into a chatterbox. 

During lunch, when Y/n finds herself frustratedly fighting a fruit juice bottle for access, her mind is a mess of questions upon questions. 

But just as she never left Harry to feel insecure for long, he does the same for her as he quietly slinks behind her, reaching out for his own OJ, his upper body bowing so his strawberry lips press to the shell of her ear, cool and minty breath fanning her features as he mutters lowly, “Been thinking about you. A lot.” 

And then he’s gone and she’s a fireball of relief and thick desire. 

This becomes his new thing; Soft and shy Harry catching Y/n alone whenever the chance permits, whispering filthy, tantalising, sweet nothings for only her to hear- sometimes letting his fingers sweep the curves of her jaw, or her lower back, once he even risks a kiss to the corner of her lips- which are always parted in surprise around Harry. 

And now, Y/n's the blushing mess… it’s only fair. 

🍭

(You can send me more requests/suggestions for how Y/n and *insert trope* Harry would interact! -Emmy 💞).

[paulyenvol6]

ℍ𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕪 𝕊𝕥𝕪𝕝𝕖𝕤

*:･ﾟ.✧*:･ﾟ.✧*:･ﾟ.✧*:･ﾟ.✧*:･ﾟ.✧*:･ﾟ.✧*:･ﾟ.✧*:･ﾟ.✧*

Welcome to my Harry Styles masterlist. Below you can find all my works sorted by the length of the fanfiction. Hope you enjoy it! ♡

(Smut is marked with: *)

*:･ﾟ.✧*:･ﾟ.✧*:･ﾟ.✧*:･ﾟ.✧*:･ﾟ.✧*:･ﾟ.✧*:･ﾟ.✧*:･ﾟ.✧*

One Shots: Caring * A Night Out * Unsatisfied Toxic (Part 1 I Part 2) Series Against All Odds Sweet Creature

[finelinefae]

bambi [ceo!h x shy!reader]

synopsis: y/n tries a dating app and meets the CEO of Pleasing

word count: 8.6k

contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, dating app, online dating, deer!reader, first date, first kiss, fluff, age gap (9 years)

a/n: this is the first part of a new series. as usual the first part is a lil slow to set things up but I'm excited for what's to come of this one. there's going to be a lot of cuteness and all the things i love writing about in this one so i can't wait to share more !

this is part 1 of Bambi, read part 2 here

. . .

Most of the time Y/N didn’t want to be in control of things. 

From a young age, she had to be in charge of everything. She had three younger brothers and was born to a single mother who worked hard to keep everything afloat in their tiny, townhouse. So inevitably she became an adult before she could even buy a lottery ticket. 

Her life wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t easy. With the constant nagging from her much younger siblings and the dampened sleeve of her t-shirt—evidence of the hours she spent comforting her mother through tears—Y/N had just had enough.

Her life had become an abundance of things she was struggling to keep up with. She had no reprieve throughout her daily life, no way of stopping or just letting go. 

She worked six-hour shifts at the supermarket, studied marketing at university, did the school run in the mornings, and often in the evenings too, if her mother was too tired to get off the couch. She tutored her youngest brother, who was falling behind in math, and kept the house in order while all three of them stayed glued to the television.

Even worse, her social life was practically nonexistent.. She was twenty-one and spent her Friday nights making dino nuggets and catching up on an incessant amount of laundry from the past week. 

Y/N wasn’t sure where her life was heading. The loneliness and stress was so overwhelming she could barely breathe. 

One night, the weight of it all brought her to tears as she thought about her future after graduation. Most of the girls she knew were planning gap years, travelling to places like Brazil or Italy. She tried to picture herself boarding a plane, but the only thing she could imagine was her mother calling mid-flight, asking her to pick up one of the boys from school.

She pulled open her phone eyes blotchy and nose stuffy from crying. Her loneliness was hitting her hard and she was desperate to feel some kind of connection, even if it was five minutes of conversation. So, she opened the only dating app she had on her phone, one that she’d installed many moons ago when she wanted to open herself up to meeting new people. 

She barely used it after realising she wasn’t the best at small talk and whenever a guy would ask for a date, her introverted self would refuse to step foot out of the house. But on occasion she’d find herself wondering, searching for someone to take her mind off of everything. 

Y/N swiped past copious images of men, seemingly unphased by all of them. She swiped through so many, that they almost began to look the same - 5’9, tanned, shirtless or lifting weights trying to show some kind of strength that proved to women they were most definitely ‘manly’. 

When she started to believe all hope was lost, she paused when her eyes settled on a man who didn’t look much like the others. He was tall, with brunette curls and green eyes that crinkled when he smiled. He wore rings on his hands in every single picture and in one of them he wore a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal a sleeve of tattoos. In most of his pictures he wore comfy sweaters and knitted cardigans with grey or black trousers. In one of them he wore a pair of blue jeans and had a small, battered copy of The Catcher in the Rye in his back pocket. 

She read his bio beneath. 

‘Harry, 30

Likes: scrabble, food, cats, books, cardigans

Dislikes: loud chewing, music played too low, emails, wearing sunglasses indoors at dinner is absolutely criminal’

She clicked the heart on his profile, eyes widening when the words ‘MATCH’ appeared on the screen in big bubble writing. He hadn’t sent her a message but clearly he had liked her own profile which was surprising considering she had barely anything on it. 

As she was mulling over what to say to start the conversation, three bubbles quickly appeared then disappeared, replaced by a message. She held her breath, reading the words. 

Harry: Hey, pretty dress

She frowned, wondering what he meant by that but then remembered she had a picture of her on her profile, showcasing one of her favourite dresses. It was a baby pink slip dress she had made out of silk fabric. 

Y/N: Thank you, I made it! :) 

Harry: You did? Wow! Looks better than most of the ones I’ve seen in my own store.

Y/N: Do you own a clothing store?

Harry: Something along those lines

Harry: Although they don’t sell pretty dresses like yours 

Y/N: They’re probably a lot better, I use cheap materials 

She cringed at her message, hoping she didn’t sound broke or not put together by saying she used something cheap.

Harry: I’m even more impressed

She smiled, watching him type a new message. 

Harry: What brings you here?

She tried to sum up how she was feeling without making herself seem like a weirdo. She didn’t want to sound like a recluse looking for human interaction no matter how much she felt like it. 

Y/N: I’m tired of everything, just want someone to keep me company 

Harry: I get that. Should I be worried? Are you okay? 

Her heart warmed, she couldn’t remember the last time someone asked her if she was okay. 

Y/N: I’m okay now, thank you for asking !! it’s just everyday life stuff.

Harry: Of course. Just let me know if there’s anything you want to talk about. I’m right here to listen… or read 

Y/N: thank you, that truly means a lot!! xx

Harry: No problem, love x

Y/N’s heart flickered at the name he had placed on the end. 

They texted for hours, well into the middle of the night. Y/N was giddy, rolling around on her bed, smiling so hard her cheeks ached. They had so much in common—both preferred quiet nights in, were family-oriented, loved literature and art and even fashion. He was funny and sweet, always checking in to make sure she was comfortable and that he wasn’t overstepping with his questions. Despite how much they had in common, they had a lot of differences too.

Y/N: Is it raining where you are? Xx

Harry: Hm, just checked outside and I think the clouds are coming over. I don’t mind though autumn happens to be my favourite season.

Y/N: omg really? 

Harry: What? You don’t agree?

Y/N: No omg are you kidding? I’m much more into spring. I like that it’s sunny with a slight breeze so it’s warm but not too warm so you can still wear a sweater

Harry: Ahhh I see, you do give spring I must say

Y/N: You think so?

Harry: Even from looking at your pictures, you look like a tulip or something. 

Harry: Or the little deer from that movie

Harry: What was it?

Harry: Bambi!

Harry: Maybe that should be your name - Bambi 

Y/N: That’s one of my favourite movies !! 

Y/N: I happened to think Bambi is a very pretty name 

Harry: Then I’ll call you Bambi 

Y/N: Well what should I call you?

Harry: Anything you like, Bambi 

. . . 

Y/N was working her shift at the supermarket. She was already entering her final hour, her stomach rumbling as she packed frozen pizzas onto the shelves. Although she had been working hard to get things done so she could go home on time, her mind was constantly wandering. 

It had been a full week of talking to Harry. They had converted to messaging on WhatsApp after exchanging numbers and every day Y/N would wake up to a morning text message from him telling her to have a good day and that he would be right there in her pocket if she ever needed anything. In the evenings, he would make sure she wasn’t going to sleep with anything heavy on her mind. He’d ask her questions about what she ate and if she had any time to herself in the day. For the first time in a long time, Y/N felt a little less lonely. She went about her day with a little pep in her step feeling the excitement of texting the man she had only just met. She didn’t know what it was about him but a part of her felt safe with him. Maybe it was the fact he was nine years older than her and knew what it was like to be under stress with so many things but he understood her in a way no one else did. 

And Bambi.

Every day, it was Bambi this and Bambi that, and every time, she’d swoon or smile at the nickname he had given her. It was silly, maybe even a little ridiculous, how much it affected her. But she couldn’t help it—every time he said it, a bubble of excitement grew inside her. She liked someone for the first time in a long time, and it brought something new, something light, into her overwhelming life.

After days of just simply texting, Y/N had asked him if he wanted to video call tonight. It would be her first time hearing what he sounded like and part of her was nervous. What if he came across differently from how he was over text? What if he didn’t look the way he did in the numerous pictures he had sent her? What if after calling tonight, he didn’t like her anymore?

Hours later, Y/N was tucked up in bed readying herself to call him. She had showered and blow-dried her hair, wearing her comfiest pink pyjamas with her body wrapped up in her duvet. Her thumb hovered over the call button, gnawing on her bottom lip as thoughts raced through her mind.

She gasped when Harry’s face appeared on her screen just seconds after she pressed call. It was their first time ever talking like this, and her heart raced as she took in the sight of him. He was sitting in a desk chair, a large framed artwork hanging on the wall behind him. His shirt was slightly rumpled, his tie loosened around the collar, and his curls fell lazily across his forehead. He looked so effortlessly handsome, it almost didn’t seem real.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice breaking the stillness of her bedroom. It carried a warmth, soft and steady, like the glow of a campfire, and she felt herself melt under its gentle heat.

“H-Hi,” she squeaked, her cheeks immediately flushing with warmth. Her nerves bubbled up as she realized she was staring at him, trying to comprehend that this was actually happening. Surely she was dreaming, she pinched herself to make sure. 

Harry’s eyes softened when he heard her shaky greeting. “You alright?” he asked, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small, amused smile. His tone was gentle, almost teasing, but there was something deeper there—like he was studying her reaction and enjoying every second of it.

She nodded quickly, fumbling with the hem of her pyjama shirt. “I’m good! Just… surprised you answered so fast.” She giggled nervously, her voice high-pitched and sweet, like she couldn’t quite believe this was happening. “I thought it’d take a few rings at least.” Her blush deepened as she tucked her knees up to her chest.

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm, making her heart flutter. “I was waiting for you to call,” he admitted, a soft smirk tugging at his lips. 

Her heart skipped a beat, and she shyly glanced up at him through her lashes. “Really?” she asked, her voice soft and a little disbelieving. 

He smiled, a slow, adoring smile that made her stomach flip. “Yeah, really. I’ve been thinking about it all day.” His voice had that low, confident tone, but his gaze was gentle, like he wanted to make sure she knew he meant it. “The only thing getting me through work.”

“You’re still at work? It’s nine-thirty!” she exclaimed, glancing at the clock in disbelief.

Harry’s lips curled into a playful smirk. “Is it past your bedtime, Bambi?” he teased, leaning back in his chair as he glanced at her through the screen.

Her heart stuttered hearing that nickname come from his own mouth. She felt like if the camera wasn’t on, she’d be floating around her room like a bright pink orb of light, “N-No,” she stammered, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “But shouldn’t you be going home by now? You’ve been working all day.”

He let out a small chuckle, shrugging as he glanced down at the papers scattered across his desk. “Got a lot to catch up on. Too many late nights spent talking to you.” His voice was warm, laced with affection despite his teasing.

Her heart sank for a moment, guilt creeping in. They’d been texting non-stop for weeks, and she hadn’t once thought about how it might be affecting his workload. He’d told her before that he worked for a clothing company, and it suddenly hit her how busy he must be.

Noticing the shift in her expression, Harry’s voice softened. “Y’thinking too much in that little head of yours?” he asked, cutting through her thoughts.

“Maybe a little,” she admitted quietly, biting her lip.

He shook his head, eyes never leaving hers. “You know I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, right? I love talking to you, Y/N. I think... I might even be a little obsessed with you,” he confessed, his smirk turning into a softer smile.

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a second, all she could do was stare at him, her heart thudding in her chest. “I-I think I’m obsessed with you too,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. 

“Yeah?” His voice was full of warmth, a hint of disbelief in it, like he hadn’t expected her to say it back. She nodded shyly, clutching her pillow tighter against her chest, her heart racing.

Harry huffed out a breath, rubbing a hand over his face to hide the wide grin that had taken over. “God, you’re even cuter than I imagined,” he murmured, his words full of adoration.

They talked for hours, diving into everything and anything that crossed their minds. It was the longest conversation they’d had since they started talking, and Y/N found herself more captivated by Harry than she thought was possible. The way he laughed, the way he listened—it all just pulled her in deeper.

In the middle of her sentence, she noticed Harry looking at her with an unusually soft expression, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite place. He suddenly spoke, cutting her off mid-thought. “Can I take you on a date?” His voice was gentle but firm, catching her completely off guard.

“O-Oh,” she stammered, blinking in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to want to meet her so soon, but her heart leapt at the thought. “I’d like that,” she replied, a soft smile spreading across her face. “Very much.”

His own smile widened, a mix of relief and excitement in his eyes. “How about Saturday evening? I could pick you up.”

“But wouldn’t that be too long of a drive?” she asked, biting her lip. She knew he lived in the city, about forty minutes away without traffic, and she didn’t want to inconvenience him.

Harry’s expression didn’t falter. “It’s not too far at all. Trust me, I don’t mind,” he said confidently. “I’ll pick you up at 8, sound good?”

Y/N’s heart fluttered, the idea of seeing him in person making her pulse race. She nodded shyly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Mhm, that sounds perfect.”

Harry’s grin grew, his eyes twinkling, “Can you wear the pretty dress you made?”

Y/N blushed, “You don’t want me to wear something a little more sophisticated?” 

“Y’ can wear whatever makes you comfortable, I don’t mind but I think I’d like to see that little dress y’ made.” 

She nodded, stifling a yawn as it slipped out. It was getting late, and Harry was still at his office, working. “Y’tired, lovie?” His voice softened.

“A little,” she lied, knowing full well she was more than exhausted. But the thought of ending the call made her chest tighten—she wanted to keep him on the line, even just for a few more minutes.

Harry chuckled softly as if he could see right through her. “Why don’t you rest those pretty eyes for me, yeah?” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, the gentle authority in his words making her entire body relax. She practically melted at the sound, her heart skipping a beat.

“M’kay,” she whispered, her eyelids already heavy as she let herself sink deeper into the comfort of his voice.

“I’ll be right here, alright?” he reassured her, his tone gentle and full of warmth.

She managed a soft smile, her words barely audible as her exhaustion overtook her. “Promise?”

“Promise Bambi,” he whispered, his voice the last thing she heard before sleep pulled her under.

. . .

“Mr. Styles?”

Harry looked up from his computer, peering over the rims of his glasses. His receptionist, Lindsey, stood in the doorway. “The samples for the newest collection have arrived. Would you like me to bring them in?” she asked, her voice polite but efficient, as always.

“Yes, please, Lindsey,” he replied with a sigh, signing off another email before hitting send. The endless stream of tasks had him feeling drained.

Though Harry wasn’t usually the type to show much warmth towards his employees, Lindsey was different. She’d been with him for years—long enough to earn not just his respect, but his trust. She was one of the very few people he relied on within his company. 

Harry was the CEO of Pleasing, a major fashion company he had built from the ground up. His first line had been designed in a small studio, crafted with his own hands and the help of a few close friends who still worked by his side. Now, it was a global brand. He was on Forbes 30 under 30 and had features in magazines like GQ. He was even in Time magazine for most influential people. 

Despite all the success, his day-to-day life had become an endless loop of emails, business meetings, and deadlines. Time for anything outside of work was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Lately, though, something, or rather someone, had started to make him reconsider how he spent his time.

He checked his phone once more having only picked it up a minute ago for the same reason. He hoped to see a message from Y/N, in fact he was eager to. Ever since he had messaged her on the only dating app he used, he hadn’t thought of anyone else but her. 

It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, one born out of the loneliness that weighed heavier than ever that night. Harry sat in his dimly lit office, the silence around him almost suffocating. He hadn’t dated in over a year, not since his last relationship, which had ended on a bitter note. That girl had taken advantage of him, using his desire of the relationship he wanted to manipulate him. She had drained his bank accounts, maxed out his credit cards on shopping sprees and lavish holidays with her friends, leaving him both financially and emotionally exhausted. After that, he’d grown wary of trusting anyone.

When he joined the website, he wasn’t exactly hopeful. The chance of finding someone who truly understood his career and mirrored his desires in a relationship seemed slim.

But then he met his Bambi. 

He hadn’t been searching for anything specific that day, just scrolling aimlessly, but something about Y/N’s profile made him pause. There was a warmth to her, a genuine spark that went beyond her pictures. She didn’t seem to realise just how captivating she was, and that drew him in even more. It wasn’t just her beauty—though she was stunning—it was the way she spoke about the things she loved. Her messages were full of passion, filled with rambles about her favourite books, little moments in her day, or random thoughts that popped into her head. 

Y/N had ignited something within him. He was excited for this newfound thing they had going on, a spark he hadn’t felt in years. Every message from her left him smiling at his phone, wondering what she’d say next. It was the kind of excitement that made the day feel a little brighter, knowing she was just a text away. He found himself looking forward to the simplest things—her daily updates, the way she’d ramble about something she’d seen or read, and even the photo updates she’d send him of things she was doing.

For the first time in a long time, he found himself imagining what it would be like to share his life with someone, instead of the quiet solitude he’d grown so used to. He couldn’t shake the thought of Y/N being that person—the one to bring warmth into the corners of his once-lonely home. He pictured what it would be like to have someone in his space, their presence adding a new kind of lightness. Someone to be there in the small, everyday moments and to keep him company after a long day at the office. 

He couldn’t wait to meet her in real life, hold her in his hands and kiss the lips he spent nights dreaming about. 

Harry snapped out of his daze when Lindsey opened the door and the manufacturers entered the room behind her, holding the fabric samples in their hands. They greeted him timidly, laying the samples on the table by the large floor-to-ceiling windows. 

He walked over, black polished shoes clicking against the mahogany wood floor. He sighed when he took in the samples, he didn’t need to feel them to know they weren’t good enough. Uncapping the red pen, he drew a cross beside each sample, the men behind him releasing a shaky breath. 

“Come back when you have what I want,” He murmured, dismissing them with a wave of his hand. 

He checked the time on his watch and cursed. Today was his niece’s birthday and he promised his sister he’d visit in time for her birthday party this afternoon. “Lindsey,” He called, hearing her shoes against the floor before she opened the door to his office. 

He pulled on his blazer, “I’ve got to leave, did you wrap that gift I gave you the other day?” 

Lindsey frowned, “It’s under my desk but what about your meetings this afternoon?” 

“Cancel them.” He shrugged.

His Porsche was parked out front by the time he stepped out of the building. He put the gift into the passenger seat and made a mental note to stop somewhere to buy a birthday card. 

He glanced at his phone when a text came through.

Bambi: Half way through my shift. It’s been pretty rough, sorry for the late reply xx

His heart leapt when Y/N’s name appeared. He took his phone when he reached a red light and typed in a reply.

Harry: it’s okay lovie, call me when you finish yeah? x

He was desperate to speak to her even if it were just for a mere few seconds. 

Making a left turn, he pulled into the parking lot of a small supermarket on the highway. It looked run down and old but there wasn’t anywhere else he could go to before he reached his sister's house.

People sat outside, smoking cigarettes and drinking out of beer cans. He ignored the glances they made towards him and his car. 

He stepped inside and walked along the aisles, pausing when he noticed someone stacking things onto a shelf. His heart skipped a beat when he saw her. She was wearing blue jeans and a fuzzy white sweater, her hair was braided and fastened with pink, silk bows. She wore wired earbuds, her pink ballerina flats tapping against the laminate flooring. 

She must have felt his gaze because her head lifted, eyes widening as they met his. Her soft, pink lips parted slightly, and in that instant, it was as if the world shifted—everything falling perfectly into place between them, as though they were always meant to find each other naturally. 

Harry hadn’t noticed the sugar spilling from the bag she was holding until the store manager stormed over. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The sharp tone made Y/N jump, her body snapping upright as she stood frozen in front of her manager, fear flashing across her face.

“I-I’m s-sorry, I—” Y/N stammered, her voice trembling.

“How many times do I have to hear the same excuse from you?” her manager snapped. “Stupid, useless girl, costing me the whole damn shop.”

Y/N’s bottom lip quivered, her eyes welling up with unshed tears. “I-I know... I promised it wouldn’t happen again. It was an accident, really,” she whispered, her voice barely holding steady.

Harry’s frown deepened. Again? This had happened before?

From the way Y/N stood there, trying so hard not to cry, it was painfully clear—this wasn’t the first time her boss had spoken to her like this.

Harry’s jaw tightened as he watched the exchange, a surge of protectiveness rising in him. He had only known Y/N recently, but seeing her like this—small, vulnerable, and clearly hurt—stirred something deep within him. He couldn’t just stand there and let it happen.

“Excuse me,” Harry spoke up, his voice calm but firm, stepping closer. The store manager turned to him, annoyance flashing across his face.

“This doesn’t concern you,” the manager spat, his glare shifting to Harry.

“Actually, I think it does,” Harry replied, his eyes steady on the man. “You don’t need to speak to her like that.”

The manager scoffed. “And who the hell are you?”

Harry didn’t blink, his voice lowering. “Someone who knows when respect is lacking.”

Y/N looked up at Harry, wide-eyed, as if she couldn’t believe he was stepping in. Her heart raced, a mix of relief and anxiety bubbling inside her. She wasn’t used to anyone standing up for her like this.

“Y/N, why don’t you take a minute?” Harry said softly, glancing over at her, his voice now gentle and reassuring. The tears in her eyes made his chest physically hurt. He’d be quick with this useless piece of shit so he could give her all his attention.

She hesitated but then nodded, her gaze flicking between Harry and her boss. She quickly turned, slipping away from the confrontation, her hands shaking as she tried to compose herself.

Harry turned back to the manager, his calm exterior masking the frustration brewing underneath. “Speak to her like that again, and I won’t hesitate to have this place torn down, brick by brick, and replaced with a building I own. Then you’ll know firsthand what it’s like to deal with a real fucking manager.” 

With that, he turned on his heel, already making a mental note to have his team look into this place. It was clearly lacking in more ways than one—enough to warrant being shut down for good he hoped. 

Y/N stood behind the building, her back to him, shoulders trembling as she cried into her sleeve. Harry’s heart clenched at the sight. “Hey, hey, hey,” he murmured softly, stepping forward and gently pulling her into his chest. “Tha’s enough now, Bambi. Don’t waste your tears on him,” he whispered, his large hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. Holding her close felt unexpectedly right, as if this was exactly where she belonged, even if the circumstances weren’t ideal.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she sniffled, her voice small. “This isn’t how I wanted you to see me for the first time.”

His eyes softened with affection as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief. Carefully, he wiped her tear-stained, blotchy cheeks, his touch tender. “You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart,” he whispered, “S’alright now, y’ don’t have to go back in there.” He cupped the back of her head, feeling how soft and silky her hair was. He couldn’t seem to fathom that he was actually holding her after days of imagining what she would feel like.

She pulled away and for the first time Harry could get a proper look at her. He didn’t think it possible for her to be even more beautiful than the pictures he had of her on her phone but she was. Her features were soft, cheeks permanently pink like the colour of tulips on a spring day, her lips were the perfect shape, so delicate like two petals pressed together. She was a walking angel. 

“Hey stranger,” He grinned, those perfect cheeks turning pink. If Harry had one goal in his life it was to make her all flustery and blushy. 

“Hi,” She peeped, hands fiddling in front of her.

Her eyes widened when she saw the tear stains on his shirt, the damp spots revealing the tiniest hint of the tattoos on his torso. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your shirt,” She cringed.

“Hey no need to apologise, ‘s not even ruined and I’d rather you were okay than some easily replaceable shirt.” He assured her. “Are y’ sure you’re okay? Don’t need to go in there and beat him up or anything,”

She smiled at that and the sight made his heart sing, “No it’s okay. I-I’m okay, thank you for looking out for me. I don’t normally have people doing that very often.”

He frowned. He didn’t like how often she spoke about how little help she got from other people. If anything, it made him want to take care of her even more than he already did. 

“I should probably head back in. I still have three more hours of my shift,” she huffed, clearly reluctant. It was the last thing she wanted to do.

Harry’s expression softened, but his tone remained firm. “You don’t have to,” he said, his gaze holding hers, protective and unwavering.

Y/N frowned, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “But I need the job, Harry,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “I can’t just leave.”

His jaw tightened at her words. He hated seeing her stuck in a place that didn’t value her, where she wasn’t respected. “I know you need the job,” he replied, gentler now, trying to ease her worry. “But no job is worth being treated like that. Not by him.”

She bit her lip, glancing back at the store, anxiety clearly weighing on her. “What am I supposed to do, then? I can’t afford to lose it.”

Harry stepped closer, his hand finding its way to her cheek, thumb brushing away a stray tear. “You’re not going to lose anything,” he said softly. “Let me take care of it. Of you.”

Y/N blinked up at him, her heart pounding. “Take care of me?”

“Come work with me,” He offered. 

There weren’t many positions available at Pleasing, but Harry didn’t care. He’d make something work—anything to keep her from going back into that place and dealing with the jerk inside.

“In the city? I... I can’t do that, Harry. I still have school, and my brothers...”

“You can work around it,” he said quickly, eager to find a solution. “I’ll pay for your gas to and from the city, or I’ll have someone drive you. Hell, I’ll drive you myself if it makes you feel better. Whatever you need. Just don’t stay here.”

He sighed softly, taking her small hand in his larger one, her warmth a comfort even as doubt flickered between them. “Just... think about it, yeah?” His thumb traced gentle circles on the back of her hand, trying to ease the tension.

Y/N hesitated but nodded slowly. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur.

A grin spread across Harry’s face, his relief palpable. “Thank you Bambi.” He swore he saw her pupils carve into love hearts at his words. 

. . . 

Y/N hadn’t returned to her job at the store just as she promised Harry. It wasn’t only because Harry was insistent she didn’t go back but her manager had been pretty verbally abusive for quite some time now and she thought better than to go back and work for someone who was just plain mean. 

A few days had passed and Saturday rolled around quickly. Y/N was giddy with excitement, preparing everything in time for Harry to pick her up to take her on their very first date this evening. She had arranged a babysitter to look after her brothers since her mother wouldn’t be home until late. It wasn’t often they splurged cash on hiring a babysitter but Y/N wasn’t going to rearrange her date with Harry for anything.

She’d made a list of everything she needed to do: wash and blow dry her hair, shave every inch of her body, and paint her nails with the glazed pink polish she’d ordered online. Her hair was in curlers as she carefully laid out her outfit for the evening—a pink satin slip dress she’d made herself, paired with white kitten heels that matched perfectly. With the season shifting into autumn, she added a thin white cardigan to keep her warm in case the night turned chilly on the way home.

She wanted to look perfect. Especially after the fiasco the other day when he had rescued her from her mean manager. 

Everything seemed to move in slow motion the moment she laid eyes on the man from her phone. He was even more perfect than she had imagined—taller too. It still hadn’t sunk in that she was about to go on a date with this man—the one who wore a black suit to work and had saved her from cruel, terrifying managers.

And the way he spoke to her afterwards, comforting her with his big, heavy hands around her. She wanted him to pick her up and take her wherever he went. 

Y/N sighed blissfully in front of her vanity. As Y/N finished her makeup, her phone buzzed with a message from Harry. 

Harry: Just outside x

She peeked through the window, catching sight of him standing by a sleek black car, leaning casually against the door. He looked breathtaking in a fitted black suit, hands in his pockets as he scanned the street. Her nerves fluttered, a mixture of excitement and anticipation bubbling up. She took a deep breath, smoothed down her dress, and grabbed her cardigan before heading out the door. 

The moment she stepped outside, Harry’s gaze snapped to her, dark and intense. He straightened up, eyes travelling over her form, taking in every detail of her appearance. The way he looked at her sent a shiver down her spine.

“Y’ look stunning, Bambi,” he murmured, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine. He took a step closer, his large hand cupping her cheek, thumb grazing her soft skin. “All this f’ me?”

Y/N blushed, biting her bottom lip nervously. “I-I wore the dress you wanted,” she mumbled shyly, looking up at him through her lashes, “Do you like it?” 

“‘S perfect,” He murmured lowly. 

“Ready to go, sweetheart?” He opened the car door for her, watching as she slid into the passenger seat, her delicate form contrasting with the dark interior of his Porshe. Harry’s eyes lingered on her legs for a moment before he shut the door and walked around to his side.

Once inside, he reached over, resting his hand on her thigh, the warmth of his touch comforting her immediately. “You nervous?” he asked, glancing at her with a small smile, though the look in his eyes held a trace of dominance.

“A little,” Y/N admitted, her voice soft and shy.

Harry gave her thigh a gentle squeeze. “Y’ don’t have to be nervous around me, love, promise ‘m not scary. Least of all t’ you.” 

Y/N smiled, loving how he made it clear she was different, that he treated her in a way no one else could. It warmed her to feel special, especially when that feeling was rare for her.

As they drove, their conversation flowed easily. Y/N found herself opening up more and more, rambling about anything that came to mind. Harry listened intently, his smile soft as he asked questions, showing genuine interest in everything she said. Her eyes sparkled in the dim light of the car, and each time she answered bashfully, his lips curved. 

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as they drove deeper into the city. The lights grew brighter, illuminating a part of town she rarely found herself in—where the wealthy lived, with towering apartment complexes and upscale restaurants lining the streets. Harry pulled over in front of a sleek Italian restaurant, where a man stood waiting by the curb.

“Are we allowed to park here?” Y/N asked, her face bathed in the glow of the restaurant’s lights.

Harry suppressed a grin at her confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well… I just assumed we weren’t eating here, which is totally fine! You don’t need to impress me with a fancy restaurant.” Her cheeks flushed pink as she tried to clarify.

Harry’s lips curled into a teasing smirk. “What if I told you we are eating here?”

Y/N’s eyes widened in disbelief. “A-are we?”

Without answering, Harry reached for her hand, brushing his lips over the back of it. “Y’ too cute,” he murmured. “Come on, they’re waiting for us.” He stepped out of the car, passing his keys to the valet standing nearby, before adjusting his blazer and moving to open the door for her, his hand stretched out toward her for her to grab onto. 

Y/N hesitated, her mind reeling. There was no way they were eating at this restaurant—the kind with a year-long reservation list and three Michelin stars. She’d heard rumours that a single course here could cost more than her entire paycheck for the week. But as she took his hand and stepped out, it felt impossible to believe this was really happening.

Harry intertwined their fingers, offering a brief nod to the waiter who opened the door for them. “Harry… are you sure? They probably don’t have any tables for people just walking in,” she whispered.

He chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, love. I made some arrangements.”

Her brows furrowed in surprise. “Arrangements? How?”

Stopping at the ‘Please Wait to Be Seated’ sign, Harry finally turned to her with a playful twinkle in his eye. “I own the restaurant.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open as a waiter approached, menus tucked neatly under his arm. “Good evening, Mr. Styles. Your table is ready.”

Feeling like she was in a dream, Y/N walked hand-in-hand with Harry to a private table near the large glass windows at the back. The breathtaking view of the city’s skyline stretched out before them, and the table, set for two, was tucked away to offer them some privacy. 

As they were seated, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the quiet stares and murmurs from other guests. She knew Harry owned a clothing business, but… just how successful was he?

The waiter laid the menus out in front of them and left them to decide what they wanted to order. Y/N hadn’t even noticed as her wide eyes gazed around the room at the glowing chandeliers. 

Harry reached for her hand beneath the table, “Are y’ okay love?” He asked. Y/N’s gaze snapped towards him, “I hope ‘s not too much.”

“H-Harry, I really appreciate you bringing me here, I mean even stepping inside is a dream come true, but… I c-can’t afford this.” She felt awful saying it but it was true and it was better to tell him now than when she’d finished her meal, she wouldn’t want him thinking she was out for his money.

Harry frowned, “Bambi, this is a date. Y’ don’t have to pay for anything.”

“B-but I can’t use your money.” She told him. 

She couldn’t hear it but Harry’s heart was singing in his chest. She was exactly what he was looking for someone totally opposite to all the women he had dated in his past. 

He cupped her cheek in his hand, “Look at me Y/N,” Big, doe eyes gazed into his, “Please stop worrying and let me take care of you. I know y’ haven’t been given that in the past but ‘m here now and I want this. I wanted to bring y’ here and I want y’ to be spoiled and I want to treat you in the way you deserve. So can you pick something from the menu and let me look after you Bambi baby, please? Think you can do that?”

Her lips parted, slowly nodding her head but she quickly said one last thing, “You don’t have to take me to fancy places to make me feel spoiled Harry. I already feel spoiled enough just getting to be with you.”

He smiled, eyes glistening under the low light of the chandelier. He placed a hand on her thigh and squeezed as a small thank you. “Have you decided what you’re going to eat?”

"Hmmm," Harry grinned, watching Y/N's pouted lips as she studied the menu with intense concentration. "I can't decide between the truffle pasta or the smoked salmon!" she huffed, clearly torn.

"How about this," he offered with a shrug, "I’ll get the smoked salmon, you get the truffle pasta, and we can share? That way you can try both."

She glanced up at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “You don’t want something else?”

He had been planning on ordering the steak and potatoes, but seeing how much this small decision seemed to weigh on her, he didn’t mind changing his mind. The smoked salmon was one of his favourite dishes anyway.

When the waiter came over, Harry confidently placed the order for both of them, which made Y/N visibly relax. She hated the pressure of ordering her own food, so the simple act of him taking charge made her feel instantly at ease.

“We’ll make sure to have your order as a priority, Mr. Styles,” the waiter nodded respectfully before walking away.

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wow. They must really like you here.”

Harry chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. “Didn’t I mention I owned a clothing business?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, “But I thought it was just a boutique or something.” She shrugged, clearly unaware of the scale.

Harry laughed a warm, deep sound that made her stomach flip. “Bambi,” he said, pulling her gently into his side until their cheeks were almost touching, “See that guy’s sweater? That woman’s hat? And that lady’s dress over there?” She nodded everytime he pointed towards them, her heart skipping a beat at their closeness. “We made all of those.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “W-wait, you own Pleasing?”

Harry nodded, a small, proud smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Y/N couldn’t even count how many times she had opened the Pleasing website, scrolling through pages of clothes she desperately wanted but couldn’t afford. And now, she was sitting across from its owner—no, she was on a date with him.

“Mhm,” he hummed, pulling away slightly to gauge her reaction. "Which reminds me, have you given any more thought to the job?"

She had, actually. The idea had been rolling around in her mind ever since he’d mentioned it. "What's the role again?" she asked, trying to sound casual.

"My assistant," Harry replied smoothly. "You’d help with emails, scheduling meetings, running errands—nothing too complicated. Just being my right hand.”

“Wouldn’t that be awkward, though? Since we’re, y’know... dating?”

Harry smirked, catching the implication. "So, there’s going to be a second date?" His teasing tone made her blush. “And if anything, it makes it better. I’d get to see you every day instead of just texting."

“But what about school?” Y/N asked, trying to think practically.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said easily. “Whatever you need. We can make it work.”

“Shouldn’t there be an interview or something?” she quipped, trying to lighten the moment, though her heart was racing.

Harry sighed dramatically, playing along. “Alright. Hello, Miss Y/L/N. Welcome to your official interview for the position of Mr. Styles’ personal assistant.”

Y/N giggled, her nerves easing as she followed his lead. “Well, hello Mr. Styles. Thank you for having me.”

Harry’s lips curled into a smile, his eyes twinkling as he played along. “First question,” he said, leaning closer, their faces now just inches apart. “How do you feel about spending every day with me? Answer carefully—it’s a tough one.”

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “Well, Mr. Styles, I think I could manage that.”

“Good answer,” he praised, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. “Next question: Can you handle a man who’s very particular about his coffee?”

She tilted her head, raising an eyebrow in playful suspicion. “Are we talking normal particular, or... like, twelve-steps-to-make-a-single-cup particular?”

Harry chuckled, his dimples deepening. “Maybe somewhere in between. But don’t worry, I can teach you.”

Y/N laughed softly, her nerves easing even more. Being around him was easy, natural—like slipping into something familiar and warm. “I think I could handle that.”

"One last question," Harry murmured, leaning in even closer. His gaze flickered to her lips for a brief second before locking back onto her eyes. "How do you feel about sneaking around with your boss?"

Her laughter died down, a trace of seriousness replacing it. She knew the risks—things had to stay professional, no hint of their relationship could slip through especially since Harry would not only be her boss but was the Senior Director and had to have the respect of everyone.  But still, she couldn’t resist.

“I think it could be fun,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Good,” He murmured, “I think you’ve passed the test, Bambi,” Y/N noticed how close his lips were to hers, if she moved her face forward they’d be touching, “Any questions?”

. . . 

Harry pulled the car up to the curb just outside Y/N’s house, the gentle hum of the engine fading as he switched it off. The street was quiet, the only light coming from the street lamps casting long shadows on the pavement. Inside her house, the windows were dark, and she silently hoped her brothers were already asleep, sparing her the awkwardness of explaining why she wasn’t rushing inside.

The silence between them felt comfortable yet charged, neither making a move to leave. It was as if both of them knew the night shouldn’t end yet, even though it had to at some point. Y/N looked down at her hands, nervously tracing the edge of her coat, stealing glances at Harry every few moments. He seemed deep in thought, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel, but the same hesitation hung in the air between them.

“Thanks for dinner,” she said softly, her voice breaking the silence.

He turned to her, his expression soft but intent, as if weighing every word. “Don’t need t’ thank me Bambi,” he replied, his eyes lingering on her face a moment longer than necessary. 

“I wish I didn’t have to go home,” She huffed, looking down at her fingers on her lap.

Harry’s lips curved into a small smile, but there was a seriousness in his eyes. He leaned back in his seat, turning his body slightly toward her. “Y’ want to go back to mine?”

She wanted nothing more, the pain of saying no physically paining her, “M-my brothers... they have school,” she murmured.

“S okay,” He smiled. 

The air between them felt thick with unspoken feelings, and she could feel her heart race as the weight of his gaze settled on her. He reached over, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his touch soft.

“Bambi,” he said quietly, his voice suddenly more intimate, like he was laying something important on the table.

She turned to face him fully, her breath catching as his fingers brushed against her cheek, lingering just long enough to make her pulse race. The space between them seemed to vanish, and suddenly, all she could think about was the way his lips would feel against hers.

Neither of them spoke. The tension that had been simmering all evening finally boiled over. Harry’s hand cupped her cheek, and in that quiet moment under the dim streetlights, he leaned in.

The kiss was gentle at first, tentative, like they were both testing the waters. But as soon as their lips touched, a wave of emotion flooded over her, and she couldn’t help but respond. Her hand found its way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, slow and lingering. It wasn’t rushed or hurried—just soft, warm, and full of everything Y/N had been dreaming about for longer than she cared to admit. 

When they finally pulled apart, Harry rested his forehead against hers, both of them catching their breath, their lips still tingling from the kiss. His hand lingered on her cheek, as though neither of them was ready to let the moment slip away just yet.

Y/N opened her mouth to say something, maybe to break the silence or make a joke about how long they’d waited for this. But before she could speak, a loud thud startled her. She turned her head, eyes widening as the lights in her house flickered on. And there they were—her brothers, pressed against the living room window, grinning like fools and making exaggerated kissy faces at them.

“Oh my God,” Y/N groaned, mortified. Her face flushed a deep shade of red as she fumbled with her seatbelt. "This is so embarrassing."

She pushed the door open and scrambled out of her seat, grabbing her purse in a flurry of panic. “I am so sorry, Harry. I-I have to go,” she stammered, her words tumbling out in a rush as she awkwardly tried to regain her composure. “Thank you for dinner, a-and the kiss! Oh, and the job too!”

In her haste, her heel caught on a paving stone, and she stumbled slightly, her purse nearly slipping from her hand as she made her way toward the front door.

Harry watched her, his mouth half open, caught between amusement and disbelief. She was flustered, rambling, and absolutely adorable. He couldn't stop the soft chuckle that escaped him as he leaned back in his seat, shaking his head.

"Bambi!" he called out the car window, grinning. “I'll take that as a yes on the job?”

Y/N turned back briefly, her face flushed but her smile shy and genuine. “Yes! Definitely yes!” she called over her shoulder, before hurrying inside, her brothers still laughing from the window.

As she disappeared through the door, Harry chuckled to himself, the warmth from their kiss still lingering. He turned the ignition on, shaking his head in disbelief at how the night had unfolded. It was far from the graceful goodbye he had imagined, but somehow, it felt perfect. He couldn’t stop smiling as he pulled away from the curb. 

Yeah, he thought to himself, that definitely meant she was taking the job.

[gurugirl]

DILF | older!harry

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Y/n meets an older man at a bar and she's not taking no for an answer. Harry likes her persistence.

A/N: This was requested + this! Also, please think before you judge Y/n. She is very bold and confident in this. Maybe even a little pushy but Harry likes it (even if at first he doesn't give that impression). Also he's single so this isn't cheatrry!

Word Count: 6,580

Warning: age gap, smut, alcohol consumption (light)

. .

"That one. Total dilf. He looks grumpy. Bet you can't crack him."

Y/n laughed at her friend and looked down at her red-painted nails before narrowing her gaze on the attractive older man who was seated at the corner of the bar alone. He was nursing a whisky and he did look rather sullen. Unapproachable even.

"Why him?"

"Because he's hot. And I'm curious to see if you can get him to smile at least," Warren raised her brows, "I dare you."

Y/n tilted her head and assessed him. He was nice and big, taking up a decent amount of space at the bar, broad shoulders and back hunched as he leaned his muscular forearms on the wood of the bar top. Meaty hands placed on either side of his lowball glass. Thick brown waves on top of his head with a bit of silver coming in at the temples. But the handsome features on his face really set him apart. His granite jawline gave way to stubble that stretched over his skin and shaded in the spaces around his pink lips.

If she could "crack" him she wasn't sure she'd want just a smile. He looked yummy enough to eat.

Drinking down the last of her martini she pointed at Warren and then Tara, "Fine. Give me twenty minutes and I'll have him eating from the palm of my hand."

Tara laughed, "If you say so…"

She placed her heeled feet down on the floor and brushed her hands over her dress, "Oh, I do say so. Just watch and learn, ladies."

Y/n wasn't quite that confident, but she wasn't about to say no to dare. And she could hold her own when it came to flirting. She liked getting a little attention and if she could garner this one's interest it might be fun.

She sauntered up to the bar behind the man and noticed the way his t-shirt stretched over his lats and tapered loosely down at his waist. The guy was fit. And lucky her, there was an open stool next to him.

Sliding onto the seat she waved at the bartender to order another drink. She'd need all the courage she could get, in whatever form she could get it.

Tapping her long nails on the lacquered wood she felt nerves thrumming through veins before turning toward the man finally. He hadn't seemed to take note of her yet, which honestly was unusual in most cases. Maybe she thought too highly of herself but men tended to notice her right away. She appreciated the challenge, though.

Reaching her hand into his space to greet him, she pushed down her nerves to sound steady as she spoke, "I'm Y/n."

She watched his brow furrow as he turned to look at her hand and then up at her eyes, his expression, which she expected would soften once he looked at her, was unamused. A single light overhead lit the tops of their heads as a shadow cast over the side of his face and he didn't make a move to shake her hand, "And I'm old enough to be your dad."

A surprised scoff fell from her lips as she moved her hand away from him. She wiggled in her seat and crossed her leg over her thigh toward him, gulping down the initial rejection with as much grace as she could muster, "I think you're jumping to conclusions about my intentions. But so what if you're older than me? I don't mind. We're both adults, right?"

An unimpressed grunt rumbled from his throat before he took another sip of his whisky and he looked away from her toward the TV that hung not far away from where they sat.

The bartender placed her olive martini down on the bar in front of her, "It'll be on Y/n Y/l/n. I already have an open tab."

A sip of the salty drink felt warm down her throat. So he was going to be a bit tough to crack. She turned to look at her friends who were grinning in her direction.

Straightening her back to feel more confident she tried again, "So you're not gonna tell me your name even?"

Without looking at her, he licked his lips and ticked his jaw, "Y/n, I think it's past your bedtime."

She smiled at that. He'd said her name, which meant he'd been listening, "My bedtime is whenever I say it is, not when some grouchy stranger says."

He puffed out an amused laugh through his nose, "I am a stranger. Which means you should be cautious, little girl. Your dad didn't teach you about things like that?" He turned to look down at her again, and that time she saw the soft green color of his eyes as the light hit his face just right.

But now she was really determined. She smiled brightly at him and let her eyes coast over his tattooed arm and then back up to his face, "Are you telling me you're dangerous?"

He still didn't smile as he shook his head like he was surprised by her gall, "Do your parents know what you're up to tonight?"

"I'm 24. Graduated from college, live on my own, pay my bills, have a full-time job. You seem to be awfully worried about my parents. I can take care of myself just fine."

Just then another person sat down next to the man Y/n was trying to whittle away at. He poked his elbow at him, "Who's this?"

"Don't know. Someone who's about to go back to her table with her little girlfriends."

Biting her lip she traced the rim of her martini glass with her fingertip, keeping her eyes set on the handsome tattooed one, "Not even a smile. Just one? Please?"

"Like I already said, I'm way too old for you."

The other man leaned over and reached to tap Y/n's shoulder, "Hey. Forget about Harry, here. You can bring me home with you if you're looking for a daddy tonight."

She frowned and looked him up and down to asses. He was late 40s perhaps, wearing a local band t-shirt, ripped jeans, and a backward cap to make himself appear a little more youthful. "No thanks. You'd know if I was interested in you."

Harry bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling at her retort. She was definitely too young but he liked her spunk.

"Now, Harry…" she said his name slowly as she leaned a little closer, "I've got your name thanks to your friend. Can I have a smile?"

"Why?" He stared down at her, the caress of his gaze felt infinite and she found her skin convecting in its wake. He might be hard to crack but this one would be worth it, she determined.

She sighed and slid her finger dangerously close to his wrist as he looked down at her nail and watched her trail it near his arm, "I just hoped to see you smile is all. Too handsome to have such a sour scowl on your face."

"And you're hardly old enough to be so confident to walk up to a strange man at a bar."

She laughed and tilted her head, "You planning on doing something bad to me, Harry?"

And that. That pulled a reaction out of him that spread over his features slowly as he shook his head in disbelief, "Darlin', you wouldn't be able to handle me."

Her eyes widened slightly. Now she was definitely not giving up. Y/n wasn't one to fail and Harry might be making her work hard for it but she couldn't imagine it wouldn't be worth it in the end.

"Is that a challenge or something?" She softly scraped her nail over his tattooed wrist and Harry watched her red nail work over his skin.

His resolve was fading fast. She could tell he wasn't going to keep denying her. And why should he? If he was single, which he appeared to be, what was the harm in having a little fun with someone younger? Y/n didn't mind. And he certainly shouldn't either.

"If it were a challenge you'd know it. Lots of other guys here, Y/n. Go enjoy your night with someone closer to your own age."

She sighed in annoyance. But he hadn't moved his arm away from her and she was going to take that as a sign.

Dragging the toe of her shoe into his shin she grinned, "I don't want to enjoy my night with someone my own age. Not tonight anyway. I think you've convinced me that I need to test out this theory of yours. That you think I can't handle you. Cause I bet I can."

With his eyes piercing into hers, he took another sip of his drink. She thought she might have just convinced him to give her a smile at the very least because it looked like he was weighing his options. And if she could get him to smile she might have luck with the rest.

He tilted his chin upward for a moment, eyes aimed at the ceiling like he was calling on a higher power for strength, "Go back to your friends, Y/n. Any other man here would love to have your company."

"But you wouldn't love to have my company?"

"I mean… I'm still here," the other man raised his hand and leaned into Harry, "Honey we could have so much fun. Any man who'd turn you down is either battin' for the other team or more likely," he chuckled and pushed his shoulder into Harry's teasingly, "He can't get it up anymore."

Y/n's mouth dropped open at that and Harry turned to look at the man. She wished she could see the look on his face, "Sit the fuck back down, John. She already told you she's not interested in you."

"Yeah, and you're not interested in her so what's it matter to you? Look at her, Harry. Practically begging you. Young and bubbly… Tight—"

Harry's hand covered John's throat as he pushed him away, nearly making his stool topple over, "Get the fuck outta here. You had too much whisky tonight."

"Aww… come on Harry… I was just jokin'!"

She watched as he stood from his stool and looked down at John, "And you thought that was funny? You like making jokes about women like that?"

The man put his hands up in surrender, "I'm out. Here…" he threw a wad of cash on the bar top before he moved past Harry and then looked at Y/n, "My apologies if I offended you."

They watched as John left the bar quickly and then Harry sat back down before he waved at the bartender and signaled for the check, "Just the one whisky neat."

"You're leaving already? Night's still young, Harry."

He sucked at his teeth as he scraped his gaze over her face and down to her cleavage. She smiled when she watched the path his eyes had taken.

The bartender handed him the bill and Harry leaned over to pull his wallet from his back pocket.

She scooted closer to him, "You headed home?"

He nodded, but not necessarily in answer to her question, it was more of an appraisal kind of nod. He was still silent as he pulled cash out of his wallet.

"Thanks for that, by the way. I'm sure John's a nice guy and all but he's not really my type. And I'm sure he was wrong about you."

That got his attention. Harry flicked his gaze back to hers, "Wrong about me?"

She smiled, "The part where he said you couldn't get it up. You're not that old. I'm sure you still can. Right?"

He clenched his jaw and breathed out of his nostrils like he couldn't believe she'd asked him such a thing. He handed the bartender his cash with a nod before he stood up from his stool.

"Huh. Since you're so quiet about it maybe he was right," she goaded, pressing her lips together to flatten her smile as she looked up at him through her lashes.

Harry placed a palm down on the bar top next to her hand and leaned over her, "You're out of your depth here, Y/n."

"Now, you don't really know that do you? Just because I'm younger than you doesn't mean I don't know what I'm doing."

"You're awfully pushy. Not used to hearing no, are you?"

Y/n watched as the edge of his mouth lifted in amusement and she widened her eyes and pointed, "You're almost smiling."

He shook his head and looked around the bar before pinning his gaze back to hers, "I hope you enjoy the rest of your night. But your luck has run out with me, princess."

Harry stood to his full height and Y/n decided to try one last time, "So it's true then. What he said."

He stopped and turned to look back at her, a slow burning heat behind his gaze, "Couldn't be further from the truth."

She smiled and slid off her stool to stand in front of him. His height was impressive, "Prove it."

The line of his jaw hardened, turning his cheekbones into slashes of tension. His eyes simmered as he weighed his options. Finally, a hint of a smile stretched over his mouth. A small one, but still.

"I don't need to prove anything to silly little girls."

"Good thing I'm not a silly little girl. I'm a grown woman, Harry."

Y/n knew she was pushing it. She'd never needed to throw herself at any man before. But because of that, she wasn't used to rejection either. Maybe it was a good lesson for her ego. She knew her big fault was how entitled she could act sometimes. But that was partly thanks to how she was raised. It's better to act like a man to get what you want in life, her dad told her. And so far, that had been true. Some women balked at her confidence and her bold attitude. She wasn't demure or sweet enough. And men would often refer to her as a bitch or say that she was trying too hard.

She'd work on her ego another time. But right now? She was focused on winning this battle.

"What do you want with someone like me anyway? Hm? I'm old, Y/n. What's in it for you?"

Blinking her eyes she shook her head, "You're not old, first of all. Secondly, you're really attractive. It doesn't need to go much deeper than that, does it? I just think you're handsome. And I do kind of like a challenge."

"I can see that you like a challenge. It's the only reason I haven't walked out that door yet. Kind of relentless."

She smiled, "So it's working?"

Another half-smile worked its way up his mouth as he laughed in disbelief, "Are you surprised that it is?"

His pupils coasted over her figure and then back up to her face. The warmth of his gaze singed her skin like an open flame.

"I guess I just didn't know how difficult it'd be with you."

He licked his lips, "Difficult. You have no idea. But looks like you're about to find out. Go tell your friends what's going on. Meet me out front."

Y/n watched him turn and walk away. She was shocked. For a minute she thought he wasn't going to go for it at all.

Shaking off the sudden surprise of having gotten to him she settled up with the bartender and then stopped at the table with her friends. They were just about to give her condolences for having oversold her ability but she interrupted. "He's waiting for me outside. Location is on. Don't wait up!"

Harry was leaning against a black car in the parking lot when she stepped out of the doors. The moment he saw her he pushed himself off the car and opened the passenger door for her.

It was going to be tricky to maintain the kind of confidence she'd been feigning with him up until then but there was no part of her that didn't want to find out what he could show her.

She watched as Harry sat down in the driver's seat and started up his car. He took up too much space in the seat. His big hand wrapped around the leather steering wheel while his other encased the shift stick. Even the way he drove was turning her on.

She was pleased that she'd wormed her way under his skin and that he'd given in. She'd try her best to make it worth his while. Reaching across the console she put her hand on his thigh and he glanced down quickly before setting his gaze back on the road.

Now, Harry had slept with younger women a couple of times. He generally preferred someone closer to his age because he liked the confidence and experience that came with age. Women in their 20s were often in a different stage of life and that was fine –normal even, but it just usually wasn't a match for him. Not sexually and not mentally.

But Y/n was unusually confident for being so young. Persistent. He liked it, he couldn't lie. Whether or not she really had much else going for her beyond confidence, he guessed he'd find out. Well, she was very cute too. She did have that in her favor.

And Y/n at least seemed like she knew what she wanted. It was flattering as well. Being approached by such a pretty young thing. He figured the moment he told her to go back to her friends she'd give up but she was just fiery enough that she wasn't deterred.

When she ran her nail over his wrist he knew he was screwed. She was just close enough that he could smell her perfume and then she nudged her shoe into his shin and all he could think about was that she really wanted to be shown a good time and if anyone could it was him.

Harry knew his way around a woman's body. They were all different and he liked finding all the buttons and things that made them purr. In his experience, though, the younger the woman, the less she knew her own body. He didn't know if Y/n was just talking a big game but he was about to find out.

He stayed quiet as she ran her hand down his thigh and he shifted as the car accelerated past the green light. He'd see if she'd do anything with her hand but maybe she'd just pet at him like a novelty toy. He didn't expect—

"This is okay?" She asked him, her tone sultry as she palmed at his crotch.

He licked his lips, "Have at it."

His cock fattened up nicely with not much effort on her part. Proof that he definitely could get it up. Plucking at his button she looked from his face to her fingers as she leaned further over the console to reach her hand into his open pants to help him with the awkward angle of his dick. He seemed to appreciate that as he shifted under her palm.

Rubbing over his heather grey briefs she peeled down the elastic band the slightest to get a peek. The dark shade of pink on his tip matched the muted raspberry of his lips. She slid the pad of her middle finger over the slit and he softly inhaled through his teeth.

She wouldn't be able to give him roadhead like she wanted. It was impossible with the stick shift in the way. But she could wrap her fingers around his shaft and feel him under her palm until they got wherever they were going.

"Mmm… It's so big, Harry. Knew you would be. Might be the biggest I've seen in person. Can't tell yet, though. Have to wait to see when we've got these off."

Harry pushed a laughed breath through his nose. She was a bold thing. Her assertiveness was a turn-on. He didn't like meek and shy. Not when it came to sex.

When she spit into her palm and smeared it down his length, the best she could, he parted his lips and stepped on the gas. She was already exceeding any expectations he had for her. Maybe she'd prove him wrong.

Her nail scraped the underside of him and she moaned, "Really want it in my mouth."

He gulped harshly and ticked his jaw, "Just be patient. I'll let you put it in your mouth soon enough."

"And where are we going? Your place?"

He nodded, "Just a few minutes away."

She squeezed around him and pulled upward slowly. She knew already, he was well above average and she was going to have to work to give him a proper blowy.

His house was a one story, the driveway at the front with a garage attached. He lifted his hand and pushed on a device that was clinging to his sun visor and the garage door began to open. There was a covered motorcycle along the back wall and then the garage door closed after he shut off the engine.

She moved her hand away and unbuckled herself as he got out. When she reached down to pick up her little purse she realized her panties were already wet. She grinned as she stepped out, adjusting her dress before closing the door, and then followed behind him as he led her into a dark hallway.

When he turned on the lights she took it all in. Hardwood floors led into a dining area and then a kitchen. Hung on the walls were photos of himself with two children and then more framed photos with just the kids.

"Do you have kids?"

"I do. Boy and a girl. 7 and 10."

"You're not married are you?"

He laughed, "If I were you'd have known. Wouldn't have been out in the first place if I had a wife waiting for me at home."

She nodded as he turned on the kitchen light and pulled out two glasses before filling them with water.

"Divorced?"

Handing her a glass he squinted, "Yes."

She took a sip. He was a man of few words she'd gathered. She looked around the kitchen. Wood cabinets, an outdated laminate countertop, stainless steel appliances. The space could use some updating but it was large and he had a big pantry.

Sitting the glass down on the counter she watched him closely. His pants were still unbuttoned. She eyed the space at his crotch as he placed his own glass down next to hers.

"It's not gonna suck itself."

She laughed and looked up at him. He had a genuine smile on his face that time. The first real smile she'd seen from him all night. A healthy row of clean teeth, a dimple…

"Hmm… I think you're right. Let's see what we've got…"

She moved in front of him and placed her hands on his pants to push them away but before she could inch them down he wrapped his meaty hand around the back of her neck and drew her into his chest. His mouth was warm and soft. His tongue tasted like the whisky he'd been drinking.

Letting go of his pants she held onto his biceps as he used his free hand to push her hips against his. Still nice and hard. He ran his tongue over her lips and she moaned into his mouth. He worked his warm lips down to her jaw and then he licked upward on her neck, the wet patch was cool on her skin from the air in the kitchen. He did it again and her knees almost gave out. She hadn't been licked like that before.

He kissed over her clavicle and then drew his tongue over her flesh. Her heart was thrumming quickly and she squeezed his strong arms when he rutted against her.

"You good at sucking cock, Y/n?" He pushed his nose against her jawline and the hot breath from his words scattered over the skin on her neck.

"I want to be," she spoke breathlessly, eyes fluttering closed as he mawed at her throat.

He parted from her neck and looked down at her, half-lidded gaze and spit-slicked lips, "Go on."

Instantly she dropped to her knees as her fingers worked deftly at pulling his pants down and then his underwear. She'd sucked a handful of dicks so she knew a couple of moves.

Getting her hand around his thick shaft proved to be a small challenge. To say he was thick… understatement. Long too. His tip was smooth, mushroomed with ridges along the length that she hoped she'd get to feel later on. His was the kind of cock that women dreamed of.

Looking up at him she licked her palm and used her spit to pump him slowly. Another glob over his tip for good measure. Then she pressed a kiss to the base of him, just over his sac, and screwed her eyes upward to watch his expression as she licked his balls, one side at a time. She wound her tongue all around to wet him before sucking at one side, pulling it into her mouth and he let out a ragged breath, his dark pupils spreading inky until the soft green had almost vanished.

He liked it.

She worked around the other side, sucking him in again and swirling her tongue softly underneath the tender bits. He gripped the counter behind himself.

Pulling off she straightened her back and licked upward, feeling every delicious thick ridge along his shaft until her tongue met his smooth crown. Laving every crevice of his tip, she dipped her tongue into his slit and then ran it under the frenulum before she wetted every inch of his glans.

Her mouth was watering when she parted her lips around him and flitted her gaze upward. He was watching her with a slack jaw as she took him a little deeper. He cradled the back of her head and moaned.

"Just suck the tip…."

She blinked up at him and pulled her lips just over the lip, swirling and suckling around him like he wanted.

"Fuck. Just like that." His hand at the back of her head was easy. He didn't push or pull. It was more like a pleased gesture as his fingertips flexed around her skull gently.

Y/n would have liked to have gone deeper. Wanted to show him her best work. But he seemed rather happy with what she was doing.

She bobbed a couple of times, only to slide her lips back to his tip. Her pace was slow when she began to stroke his length with a little twisting motion.

He was big. She knew she could take more but in a way, she was grateful that that was all he was asking for.

A groan fell from his chest and he bucked forward, his cock slipping down her tongue and she sucked, drawing more of him in as she moved her hands away.

"Goddamnit, you're good."

She took that as permission to go deeper. Relaxing her jaw she closed her eyes and held her breath, pushing down to her limit. She filled her throat with his cock the best she could and gurgled around his tip.

He coughed out a moan and then thumbed at her cheek, "Alright, that's good."

She pulled off of him. His heavy cock aimed right at her face when she sat back on her knees and looked up at him, "I can do better than that."

He laughed and put his hand out for her to take, helping her stand up, "I bet you can. Come on."

Harry kept her hand in his as he led her to his bedroom. It was just past the dark living space and he turned on a floor lamp on the opposite side of the room from the bed. When he turned back toward her he cupped her face and kissed her again.

She pressed her hand into his warm, hard chest and he reached around the back of her dress to pull the zipper downward, his fingers dragging down her skin as he went. His touch sent a tremor down her spine as continued kissing her wetly.

He stepped back, helping her out of her dress until it fell to the floor. His eyes raked over her body and he smoothed his hands over her hips and up to her bra-covered breasts. He stepped in closer, walking her backward toward his bed. He put his hands back on her hips and nudged her to sit before he reached down to lift her leg up by her calf, removing her heels, one at a time.

Y/n's thong was drenched. She stared at him while he placed her shoes side by side at the foot of the bed and then he placed his big palms on her thighs, pushing her legs open, "Lie back."

She let her back hit the mattress as Harry got to his knees on the floor. An arm reached under her thigh as he spread her apart and then she felt her panties being pulled at until her her wet pusslips were right in his face. He groaned and felt a hand slide up the inside of her thigh. He pressed his mouth over her mons and looked up at her before he opened his mouth wide and drew his tongue through her crease making her gasp.

"Get your bra off."

She pushed herself up slightly and worked at the clasp of her bra between moans as Harry continued licking at her pussy. When she pulled her arm through the flimsy material he lifted his head and reached around her back, pulling her closer to the edge of the bed and he sucked a nipple into his mouth.

"Oh, fuck!"

Y/n's finger and her long nails pushed into Harry's hair and scraped at his scalp as he licked and pulled at each nipple. He buried his face between her tits and let out a low sound, like he was murmuring something to her but only her breasts were allowed to hear it.

When he sunk back down he pushed at her so she'd lie back and he started in on her clit, one hand holding her panties to the side as he devoured her glistening cunt.

She kept feeling like she was going to slide off the edge of the bed but Harry's grip on her kept her still. His tongue and his lips were magic as he drew her to her end. She yanked at his hair and babbled his name on repeat as her spine bowed off the bed when she came.

Her chest was still rising and falling heavy when she felt her body being pushed upward. She popped her eyes open and watched him roll a condom over his shaft before he kneed back up onto the bed next to her. He was stark naked. His body was insane. Thick muscle and masculine everything. Tattoos scatter over his arms and chest.

Fuck, she muttered under her breath.

"Flip over, for me," his deep voice was husky as he motioned toward her to move.

She rolled to her stomach and she felt his fingers slide between the band of her panties and her hips as he pulled them down her legs.

"Ass up a little. I want to see all of you, Y/n."

She grinned and turned to look at him over her shoulder as she lifted her hips and spread her thighs. His lips were parted as he grabbed her ass and squeezed, making her cheeks spread apart. He inhaled sharply through his teeth and then dipped in, kissing her pussy from behind before licking upward over her ass.

She squealed quietly and bit her lip, still watching him behind her as he lifted, a lopsided grin on his face. He gazed at her as he fisted the base of his cock and slid the head up and down her soaked folds before he tipped his hips to push in just the tip.

"Gorgeous. Gonna look even better wrapped around cock. You like anal?"

"Never tried it."

He licked his lips and pressed his lips together as he looked at the spot where his dick was pressed against her cunt, "Figured. S'alright. Pussy's my favorite anyway."

"We could try… if you want."

He looked back into her eyes, a cocky smile on his face, "Your little hole would need to be trained. And that takes time. So, there will be no anal tonight. Not gonna try and hurt you. But that's a cute thought."

He canted his hips inward, eyes on hers and her mouth dropped open when she felt her entrance splitting open for him. She was tight, but so slick, it only took a few slow thrusts until he was buried in with a low grunt. He pulled back and then pushed his entire length into the hilt.

"Fuck—fuck!" She cried and stuffed her face into the blankets.

"Too much?"

"No! It's so good. You're just so big…" She began to send her hips back against him and Harry slowly fucked in to match her pace. His eyes were everywhere. On her puss getting split open on his cock, the curve of her lower back, the swell of her ass.

He just knew she'd look so sweet with her ass stuffed too, but good things like that couldn't be rushed which was a shame.

Every thrust was gushy wet. Y/n bubbled out small moans every time his dick brushed deep into her guts. It was better than she imagined. The way he filled her to the brim was going to turn into an addiction. She'd never slept with any man that had her wanting seconds before they'd even finished.

"Oh my god…" she mewled into the comforter.

"Fuck, I know, baby…"

She fit him like a glove, it was perfect. He went in a little faster, balls thudding against her skin rhythmically making her bounce forward as she spread around his girth. When he ground in she arched her back deeply and let out a soft groan, her hands fisted at the blanket and Harry reached around and smeared his fingertips over her clit.

It had her panting and pushing into him feverishly. She'd needed the friction on her throbbing button and he'd found it easily, thick, rough fingerprints slicking back and forth as he rutted in and in. It sent electrical sparks over her limbs.

"Like that? Needs her clit touched? Shit baby, act like you've never been touched by a man right here before…" he plucked at her like he was playing the guitar and she began to fade, her moans getting caught in her chest.

He could feel her walls tightening around him as he drove in deep.

"Fuck, Harry— fuck!"

He grinned as he watched her shudder, "Give it up, Y/n. There you go…"

She began to pulse around him, a constant stream of nonsense falling from her lips as he stroked against her channel and pushed deep into her tummy, his fingers still working her clit with ease.

Just as her body had tipped and oxygen returned to her lungs he pulled out and she felt him taking her hips and turning her around to her back. Harry grabbed her ankles and lifted until each was settled over his shoulders and pushed back inside of her, cock drilling down to her core making her teeth chatter at the way he split her down the middle.

Harry leaned over her, cock buried deep as she watched her pretty face twist up with pleasure. Plapping into her, her tits wobbled as his balls tightened against his body. The harder he plunged in, the more her legs shook. Soon, her ankles had slipped down and her feet hit the mattress as he continued drilling into her. His face was flushed hot, lips parted, muscles tensed.

Reaching up to his neck she smoothed her fingers over his warm skin and he lowered his chest down to hers and kissed her. That filthy tongue ran over her lips and he sloppily sipped at her between sucking at her lips. Her brain had turned to jelly.

She felt his hand on her outer thigh squeezing and brushing as he fucked down into her. "Mmm… fuck, Y/n, m'gonna come…"

He trembled over her, thick thighs pressed down and flexed as he rutted in and in and in, and then… he stilled. A deep, guttural moan vibrated through his chest down into hers.

She sighed when she felt him throbbing, pumping into his condom. Her fingers caressed the muscles over his back and she gasped when he bucked in harshly, once more as he emptied the last of his come into the rubber wrapped around his cock.

He slowed his kisses until they were lazy little pecks and then he looked down at her, his chest heaving. She was already grinning up at him.

"What?"

She blinked her eyes, "That was fun."

He puffed out a breath, "I guess that's a good way to describe it."

Harry was a gentleman as he pulled out slowly and helped her off the bed and led her to his bathroom. He helped her clean up and listened to her tell him about her job —just reminding him that she was an adult after he commented on her being so young again.

When she picked her dress up off the floor and started to step into it, Harry frowned, "What are you doing?"

She stopped and raised her brows. "Getting dressed. Was gonna call an Uber. I'm sure you don't want a stranger in your house all night," she laughed.

Harry pulled at her hand, making her drop her dress, "What kind of men have you been hanging out with that let you leave in an Uber at 2 am? You'll stay here."

She opened her mouth and then closed it in surprise before tilting her head in confusion, "Really? I just assumed—"

"You'll stay the night here. There's no way in hell you're getting an Uber at this time of night. It's dangerous."

She grinned and shrugged, "Well then… can I have a shirt or something to sleep in?"

He placed his warm hands on her hips, "You can have a t-shirt if you like. I prefer to sleep naked myself."

"Oh yeah? I usually do too as a matter of fact."

He held her out in his arms and eyed her naked frame, "Looks like we're both good to go then. We'll get you sorted in the morning. I'll give you a ride home then."

"I think you just want to keep me here with you," she chuckled.

Harry shook his head and released her hips before he popped her on the bottom with his palm. She bleated out a laugh.

"Get your ass in bed before I change my mind."

"Yes, sir."

. .

Feedback/Thoughts | Ko-fi | Main Masterlist | Patreon

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like 💕

Tags: @yousunshineyoutempter @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swiftmendeshoran   @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince

@closureesny @angelbabyyy99 @damnasstyles @malwtilda @love-letters-to-uranus

@itjustkindahappenedreally @ssaama @onlyangellucifer @harryistheonlyoneforme @butdaddyilovehim-hs

@lc-fics @hannahdressedasabanana @babegoalsreads @harrrrystylesslut @elidoho

@gotdrxnkonu @cathy-1997 @imgonnadreamaboutthewayyoutaaaa @tiredinwinter @princessaxoxo

@angeldavis777 @lillefroe @monicaalexandraaa @hsonlyangelxo @brittanyzelazno

@lemoncrushh @golfrry @caynonmoondreams @danaehldy @mellamolayla

@ladscarlett @heartateasee @littlenatilda @virgopr1ncess @finelinepie

@michellekstyles @harrysredroom @harrydeary @mrs-anna-styles211994 @devilsqueen722

@bananabk9756 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @idkkkkkkk123lgb @freedomfireflies @fruity-harry

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @mema10

[lukesaprince]

The Other Man H.S

Summary: Where y/n's husband opens up her marriage and she meets Harry on Tinder...

Warning: Smut, oral (f & m recieving), penetration, dirty talk (degradation & praise), spanking, squirting, I think that's it?

Word count: 13.5k+

Author's note: Hellooo long time no see! It feels like forever since I posted anything and I do apologise for that my brain was taking a hiatus apparently but hopefully I can get back into the groove! This probably needs editing but I hope you like it anywayy.

- Find my General Masterlist here -

“So… do you do this a lot?”

“What do you mean?” You took a sip of your wine, trying to sate the erratic nerves jumping within the walls of your body. Not even a few drinks before you arrived to your date could save you. 

“Go on Tinder dates.” 

Harry, the man who effortlessly charmed you when your friends encouraged you to swipe right on him seemed as relaxed as ever. He had this calm and sensual aura about him that existed through every little thing he did. His smile, the way he thanked the waitress, the way he greeted you with a kiss on the cheek and guided you to the table with a hand on the small of your back. Everything. 

It was all a little too charming for your first date back in the game. Part of you even wished it would be a disaster. Then you reminded yourself that there had to be a first date. That you had to reclaim your desirability and get back into the dating scene to find yourself again. It had been three months after all, nearly four since your marriage blew up in your face and everything about your life changed. 

You felt like you were ready. Or at least willing to give it a crack.

“You seem a little nervous, that’s why I ask. I didn’t mean to offend you.” Harry spoke up again when you didn’t answer right away. 

“You didn’t offend me,” you assured, blushing at the way you got so caught up in the attraction of him, “but is it really that obvious?” You shook your head, laughing softly like the idea of actually being on a date was unfathomable. It was. To you anyway; especially given the fact that the man sitting in front of you wasn’t your husband. “This is my first date in… a while.”

“It’s not obvious.” Harry laughed softly, running his hand through his hair. “But it’s okay to be nervous. I’m nervous too.”

“You are?” Your eyes widened, “it’s not because I’m married, is it? Because I put it in my profile and-”

“It’s not because you’re married,” He assured, interrupting your clear panic. He found it quite adorable actually. “It’s because I like you and I think you’re beautiful. I wouldn’t be here if I thought otherwise.”

Oh. 

Harry didn’t want to overstep. He had only been chatting with you for a week before meeting in person, but he already liked you, at least from the few bits of information he learnt about you. And you were quite pretty, insanely pretty actually. Harry thought you were attractive from your profile, but seeing you in person only solidified that. It would take some serious differences between you two for him to not want to pursue things.

But this was a first date afterall and he wasn’t going to put pressure on something so fresh. You were clear before even meeting him that you weren’t looking for anything serious and Harry was happy with that. Whatever the outcome of this date, he at least wanted to make sure you had a good time. Even if it meant you two never saw each other again.

“Oh.” You felt your heart hammering in your chest at the compliment. Even his eye contact was making you a jittery mess. Harry made you nervous. Giddy even and you had barely known the man a week. “Thank you.”

Carson still complimented you, even still said he loved you, but nothing really felt the same after he wanted to open your marriage. It was like a wrecking ball to your life. Your heart broke instantly and your self esteem took the biggest hit you had ever experienced. Your own fucking husband asking to open your marriage after nearly three years of being married, six of being in a relationship. How were you supposed to take it?

He gave you those same reasons many guys give when they want to open a relationship; that you just didn’t fulfill his needs sexually anymore and that he needed more to be satisfied. You tried to explain that you’d be willing to explore his fantasies if he just communicated them, especially since he had been the one leading a very vanilla (but good) sex life since you two got married, but he didn’t like that idea. 

You came to the conclusion there was someone else. Carson denied it and told you he still loved you, but you couldn’t ignore the gut feeling that this was all some fucked up coverup to excuse cheating. So you said no. Safe to say that didn’t work out because a divorce ultimatum and three months later and you were here, trying to reap the benefits from an open relationship you were too reluctant to explore. 

Carson of course was happy to follow the rules you two set and be out nearly every damn night with someone, but you could never bring yourself to do it. You were still hung up on the hurt and pure embarassment you felt being forced to open a marriage you thought was happy. In the end you realised that you deserved the pleasure Carson was getting from someone else. You deserve to be desired and taken out on dates. It didn’t seem fair that only one person was benefitting.

“You’re welcome, love.” Harry smiled, “let’s just not put any pressure on it, okay? No expectations or anything. We’ll just get to know each other and see where the night takes us.”

You liked the sound of that. You liked the sound of him calling you ‘love’ even more. 

“Okay,” you nodded, “I like the idea of that.”

“Good.” Harry raised his wine glass in a toast and you couldn’t help but feel a little mesmerised by the sight of his ringed fingers wrapped around the glass. Shaking yourself out of it, you raised yours as well. “To us.” He offered.

“To us.”

The date with Harry went far better than you ever could’ve expected. He was sweet and charming and all the things that drew you to him via text were even better in person. You two had far more in common than you realised and even the things you didn’t only added so much interest to the conversation. He made you laugh harder than you had for months and was the perfect gentleman all night. 

You two didn’t sleep together, not that you went into this date wanting to sleep with him anyway because you weren’t really sure what to expect, but you came out of it hoping he’d offer to walk you up to your hotel door and maybe continue walking you right to your bed. Harry didn’t do that of course and instead offered you a kiss on your cheek and an invitation for dinner again next week, but that only made you want him more.

Leading up to the date was so overstimulating and so much all at once that you decided to book a room at the hotel in the same complex as your dinner (which he so kindly paid for), just so you’d have time in a clean environment to process your thoughts afterwards. 

Carson was out with his girlfriend April tonight, as that’s what she was to him now, so he wouldn’t be home anyway. But you didn’t want to be getting ready in your own room near the bed you and your husband shared, only to return to it after a date that could’ve been terrible. You wanted something just for you so no matter the outcome and no matter how you felt about it, you had somewhere free from any memories relating to your marriage.

When Harry offered the second date, you told him you’d think about it. He understood, took it like a great guy (the bare minimum, yes, but you were also expecting him to be too good to be true) then waited until you were in the closing doors of the elevator to say goodnight. It didn’t take long after you were clean and in the comfort of a fresh Carson-free bed that you texted Harry to let him know how much you enjoyed the date and that you would like to join him for dinner next week.

He was nice and handsome and you had a really good time with him. The thought of seeing him again made you giddy and you wanted to hang onto that feeling.

Harry: I’m glad it didn’t take you too long to think about it. I had a wonderful night. X

You were practically giggling as you read the text, feeling like a little girl dating a cute guy she liked for the very first time. It was exhilarating. Only one date in and you already understood the appeal Carson was talking about, as much as you wanted to disagree with him.

You: I’m glad. Goodnight Harry x

Harry: Goodnight, love. Sleep well x

//

“So what did you get up to last night?” Carson asked, “you have a nice night away?”

“I went on a date, actually.” Your back was facing towards him as you unpacked your overnight bag. Even though you couldn’t see him, you could practically feel the surprise radiating off him.

“Oh, really? With who?” Carson walked around until he was in your eyeline. He was trying not to act surprised, but you could see it even better with him in front of you that he was. His tone didn’t come off judgemental though and if it did you’d have a few things you could throw back at him. He couldn’t really say anything when you had remained silent on all his flings and relationships. 

“His name’s Harry. I met him on tinder.” You shrugged, being honest but trying not to appear too excited about the whole thing. Carson didn’t need to know you thought about Harry before you went to sleep, or that you spent a good half an hour on the phone with your friends squealing about your date with him.

“That’s great.” Carson’s reply seemed genuine and he held that kind smile that you fell in love with. “How was it? Did he treat you right?”

“It was really good, actually,” you paused your unpacking and looked at your husband, seeing the kindness in his eyes as he listened attentively to what you were saying. You wished he’d look like that all the time. “He was the perfect gentleman and we’re going on another date next week.”

“He must’ve really liked you then,” he teased. 

Carson was just joking and being quite civil about the entire thing, but you still felt that churning in your stomach. It would never feel normal talking about a date with someone else, even if it was your date instead of his now. 

“I guess so. It was only one date though.”

“Did you sleep together?” Then came the dreaded question. 

You both agreed that you had to disclose when you slept with another person and a condom always had to be used. No details had to be shared and it was preferred that there weren’t any, but for your own health and safety, you had to share it with each other. It only really mattered when you two were having sex with each other, which, with work and Carson’s busy schedule with other people, only happened once a month if that on your scheduled weekend together. 

Opening the marriage seemed to completely eradicate that part of your relationship and while you were unsatisfied, you couldn’t really find it in yourself to try and change that. Not with Carson at least. 

“No. You know I’d tell you if we did.” You didn’t really want to talk about it anymore, not when this conversation was ruining your once-happy mood.

“I know,” Carson replied softly, moving forward to place his hands on your hips. “I love you, you know that. I hope you find some joy in Harry, or whoever. Whatever makes you happy, y/n. That’s all I want for you.”

That felt like the biggest load of shit ever but you chose not to say that.

So you smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to remember when you used to do it and not feel a sense of dread. “I love you too.”

//

You went on a few dates with Harry. You tried to plan things around when Carson was busy so you wouldn’t be stuck at home thinking about what he was doing and that seemed to do the trick because you hadn’t thought about him once on any of the dates you had with Harry. 

Things had progressed to a goodbye kiss then a hello kiss when you decided to be a little brave and greet him with one when he picked you up one Saturday morning. And God Harry just knew how to kiss. Even a peck was delicious. His mouth was so soft and sweet and the way he held your face or your waist while kissing you made your entire body light on fire. The more time you spent with him, the more desperate you were becoming to sleep with him.

But Harry was such a gentleman. You didn’t want anything serious and he knew that and yet he hadn’t made the first move. Kissing you was as far as he got and when things started to get a little heated when you two said goodbye, it would always end far too prematurely for your liking. 

In your head, a lot of men just wanted to have sex and most of the time did anything and everything to get there before moving on once their post-nut clarity hit. That’s kind of what you expected from Harry. Someone so good-looking and out of your league could find sex easily so you assumed he’d be eager to sleep with you. That was part of the allure, wasn’t it? To sleep with a married woman? The nasty, scandalous thrill of being with someone that belonged to someone else.

Yet Harry never treated you like that, in fact, he didn’t even bring up your marriage unless you started the conversation. Harry just treated you like someone genuinely interested in getting to know you. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

It was only your third date. This conversation should’ve come up earlier, maybe even on one of the many text conversations or calls you had, but you were a little caught up in his charm and romance to think about it then and you wanted to see his reaction in person. In the very beginning you weren’t even sure if you’d be seeing him again but now that you were up to date three and he just never brought up the fact that you were married… well you wanted to know why. He knew your marriage was open but you didn’t quite understand why was he okay with it? There had to be a reason, right? 

“Of course you can.” He leaned back against the chair and tucked his elbow on the edge of the balcony you two were sitting at. It was a picturesque little cafe overlooking a river and it truly felt like you two were on some romantic holiday. The sun was gorgeous even despite the cold breeze and Harry looked effortlessly handsome. 

“Why do you… I don’t know how to put it.” You sat a bit straighter in your chair, fiddling with the rings on your fingers. Your wedding ring. You weren’t sure why you still wore it on your dates with Harry, but it was a habit and you were married. “You never bring up Carson or the fact that I’m married and I want to know why…”

“Why I don’t care?” He asked, finishing off your sentence. 

“Yeah…” You nodded, “I guess I just don’t get it. You’re a lot younger than me-”

“I’m 27 and it’s only five years.” He corrected, looking quite amused by your comment. Five years was a big gap when he was younger than you, at least you thought so. 

“Still.” You pressed, “You’re young and I’m married. I just don’t understand why you’re choosing to go out with me and not someone else. And the fact that you’re okay with my marriage it just… I don’t know.” You looked away for a moment, needing to break free from his eye contact so you weren’t completely swept up in it. “I’m not sure if I’d be the same. I’m not the same and I’m the one who’s married.”

“I’ve been married before…” 

Well, you certainly didn’t expect that.

“What?” Your eyes widened and Harry nearly laughed at how shocked you were.

“I was only 20 at the time and it was stupid to say the least but we were happy and in love and marriage seemed like the answer to all our problems.” He smiled at the memory, tracing his finger around the rim of his water glass as he thought back to that time in his life. 

“And it wasn’t?”

“No.” He chuckled, sighing while running a hand through his hair. “Marriage caused more problems than it was worth. Steph and I were broke and both in school. We could barely afford our degrees let alone rent and it just caused so many arguments. Too many arguments. We still loved each other and we made it work but over time… the love faded.” Harry shrugged. This felt like too intense of a conversation for breakfast, but you weren’t really expecting to find out about a marriage. 

“Wow…” You breathed. “I’m sorry. Um, how long were you two married?”

“Three years. We were just too young and going through too many changes. In the end, we were more like roommates than husband and wife. Didn’t have sex for the last six months because we were too busy working and emotionally disconnecting from each other.” He looked out to the water, turning back to finish off his point. “Anyway. What I’m trying to say is that shit happens. Relationships aren’t clear-cut. I can tell you’re not just trying to get some exciting thrill by cheating on your husband so as far as I’m concerned it’s just you and me.” Harry bumped his foot against yours under the table, smirking ever so slightly. “If that changes I’m sure you’ll let me know.”

Harry spoke about it in such a respectful way. You imagined it was far messier than he made it out to be, but he didn’t blame Steph or attack her character to make himself the good guy in all of it. It was refreshing and mature. Was it bad that him being married before only made him more attractive?

Maybe it was because you now knew that he understood you. 

“That’s a very… refreshing outlook, Harry.”

“Refreshing?” He chuckled, “No. Realistic.” He leaned forward and clasped his hands on the table, nudging your foot again. “And to answer your other question, the reason I’m out with you and not ‘somebody else’ is because I like you. I told you that on our very first date and I’ll say it again. I like you. Simple.”

“You act like things are so easy.” You laughed, blushing at his honesty. 

“They can be.” He reached for your hand, threading your fingers together before squeezing. “It feels easy with you.”

Yeah… it did. 

To make things worse… or better? his admission only made you more insatiable for him. Nothing he said was remotely casual, but it had also been a long time since you were dating. Aside from Carson, only one other man had touched you, so you didn’t really have a good gauge on navigating new beginnings or sex with a new person. You knew how to please a man but all your skills were honed in on one man. 

So when Harry offered to host dinner at his house for your next date, your stomach was a mixture of nerves and pure excitement. You hadn’t been there before, but with his invitation to stay the night, you didn’t really care what his place looked like, just that he had a nice clean bed to fuck you on. 

You never thought you’d be in this position, but you also never thought you’d be in an open marriage with a man you imagined building a family with. You didn’t see that happening now, but what you did see was you enjoying yourself and getting to explore another man for the first time in years.

Harry wouldn’t have just invited you to spend the night if he wasn’t interested in sleeping with you. He didn’t fit into the dump-and-run stereotype you created in your head, but he sure as hell wasn’t uninterested in sex. He practically oozed it from his fucking pores. 

“Y/n!” Harry beamed, opening the door with a big charming grin. He looked gorgeous and you were taken aback at just how good-looking he was. He told you to dress casually and while he matched the criteria with a pair of jeans and a loose white button-up, he looked anything but casual. 

“Hi,” you smiled, stepping inside. You barely made it into the doorway before he grabbed your overnight back from your shoulder, slung it on his and then cupped your face to bring you in for a kiss. You gasped a little into his mouth, humming when you relaxed into it and grabbed onto the sides of his mouth to reciprocate. 

It felt so young kissing like this; languid and passionately right in the open doorway of his house where anyone who drove or walked past could see. But you didn’t really care who saw when he was nudging you against the doorway and crowding you with his body. It wasn’t an innocent kiss that’s for sure. 

His mouth moved expertly against yours, tongue sliding against the seam of your mouth until it was brushing against yours. He grabbed onto your waist, pulling you flush against him until he was consuming every part of you. It was delirious the way he sucked on your tongue and groaned at the taste of your mouth. 

If this was setting the tone for the evening, you could barely wait. 

“Did you miss me or something?” You joked, breathing heavily as the kiss broke. 

He smiled, nodding while running his thumb over your mouth. He dragged his eyes over your body, taking in your nice fitting jeans and top with the most perfect amount of cleavage he could die. You were radiant. “Very much so.” 

God.

“Come in, love. It’s cold out.” Harry stepped out of the way properly this time, closing the door behind you while you looked around his entranceway. 

“Shoes off?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Of course.” 

Harry walked you straight through to his living area. It was a warm, inviting home with soft lighting and lots of texture. He had a musical influence throughout but in the most tasteful way ever. Posters, vinyls and a gorgeous record player front and centre in his living room. His style was envying and you wished Carson would let you do even half the things Harry had done to his house. 

You could see yourself being very comfortable here. 

“Your house is gorgeous, Harry.” You complimented, looking around the space in awe. 

“Thank you.” He gushed, setting your bag down on one of his armchairs before walking into the kitchen. “I originally hired an interior designer then ended up picking all her opposite choices. I think I did an okay job.”

“I think so.” You agreed, following him to the island bench. The entire house was fragrant. It was a mixture of some citrusy candle, whatever delicious dish was in the oven and his cologne. It was intoxicating. “Ugh and it smells so good in here. What is that?” you practically moaned.

“Alfredo chicken pasta.” Harry mused, grabbing a bottle of red from his wine fridge. “I know you like it. Thought I should try and impress you for our first at home date.”

“So far it’s working. Just need to wait until it’s in my mouth for the final verdict.” You replied, pressing your hip to the bench while looking at him. “Can’t give you a raving review before I’ve tried it, can I?”

If Harry set the tone with the kiss, you set the tone with your words and those flirty eyes of yours. He pressed his tongue into his cheek, nearly audibly moaning at the double entendre. Harry had been holding back on how badly he wanted you since the first date. 

There was an instant fire between you. Chemistry he had been wanting to act upon for weeks. But he knew this was the first relationship for you since your husband suggested opening your marriage and he didn’t want to push things. You two spoke about it extensively after the third date when you wanted to clear the air to figure out what Harry got from this. 

Harry got pure pleasure. To him it was simple. He enjoyed your company and you seemed genuine in what you told him about your situation, so why wouldn’t he pursue things with you?

“You’re a smart woman.” Harry smirked, pouring the red wine into both wine glasses he had set on the bench before your arrival. “Actions speak louder than words, don’t they?” The way he looked at you nearly had you sweating. 

“It’s an age-old saying, after all.” You mused, thanking him once he passed you a glass. “To us?”

“To our first night together.” He clinked his glass against yours, eliciting a smile that had you trying to hide how nervous he truly made you feel. It had been a while since you got butterflies in the presence of a man. 

“Now, tell me all about your day. Must’ve been pretty relaxing if you had so much time to get all pretty for me.” He teased, reaching out to pluck at the hem of your shirt. 

“Yeah right.” You snorted, jumping straight into all the problems you encountered during your work day. 

Dinner went perfect as it usually did. You both laughed and drank and shared a delicious meal. By the time dessert came, Harry had moved from his chair opposite you to sit right beside you, deciding to play a game with the few mini dishes he made. He didn’t really explain why he chose to make multiple options, only that you had to guess what each one is. 

You weren’t really going to stop him from feeding you, were you? 

“Okay keep your eyes closed.” He prompted, walking over to the table with the long plate housing the mini desserts. 

“Okay! Okay they’re closed.” You shuffled in your chair, trying not to sneak a peek even if you wanted to. 

“Keep them closed.” He warned again, his arm brushing yours as he set the plate onto the table. 

“They are.” You defended. 

“How many fingers?” Harry sat right next to you, waving two fingers in front of your face. 

“Harry!”

“Okay.” He laughed. Harry grabbed one of the dessert spoons and took a small chunk from the first dessert before bringing it close to your face. “Any guesses?”

“Smells warm.” You guessed, breathing in the delicious cinnamon-or was it caramel? “Caramel?”

“Very good, Angel.” He praised, unintentionally making your breath hitch. That little bit of praise hit you right in the belly, making a swarm of butterflies flutter all over. “Open your mouth.”

Shit. If only he was asking you to open your mouth for something else. 

You did as instructed and widened your mouth, rubbing your palms up and down your thighs. He brought the spoon to your mouth, letting you suck it clean before removing it. “Do you have a guess?”

“Mmh.” You hummed softly, savoring the taste of the dessert you had on your first date. “Sticky date pudding?”

“Atta girl!” He cheered. “Well done.”

If he praised you one more time… god you almost felt pathetic at how turned on you were getting. And over food. 

“Can I open my eyes now?” You whispered, wanting to look at him. 

“Nope. Next one.” He took a spoon from the next dessert and repeated the same movements, holding it in front of your nose so you could smell it first. “What can you smell?”

“Custard maybe? Vanilla?” 

“Yeah… on the right track.” He mused, “open up.” Then once again he fed you the spoon. 

“Oh that’s so good.” You practically moaned, feeling his thumb brush against your mouth to wipe away a bit of custard. He sucked his thumb clean of it, watching you enjoy the dessert. Your moans of appreciation were hitting him harder than he thought they would but he just couldn’t help himself. You were moaning over something he made. He could only imagine what you’d sound like moaning over his cock or his mouth. “Is it… like a custard croissant cake or pudding? Whatever you call it.”

“You know your desserts. I’m impressed.”

“We had it on our second date, Harry.” And that’s when it clicked. “Are these desserts we’ve had on our dates?” 

“Maybe. Depends if you can guess the last one. Now open up pretty girl.” At his last instruction you opened your mouth and your eyes at the same time, looking right at him. “Heyy. That’s cheating.” He complained, feeding it to you. 

There was something erotic about the way you sucked that spoon clean, even going as far as plucking it from Harry’s fingers so you could get all the chocolate from it. “I knew it was chocolate pudding before you even fed it to me.” You whispered, looking down at the nicely plated dish. “Did you really make dishes we’ve had on our dates?”

“Maybe.” He repeated, scanning his eyes along your side profile. “Too much?”

No. Fuck, you were about ready to jump his bones. 

“No.” You shook your head and set the spoon down. “This is… this is really thoughtful. Thank you.”

It was romantic. Everything about this date was romantic. 

“You’re welcome.” Harry murmured, eyes flickering down to your mouth. A playful smile emerged on his mouth and you could just tell something was up. 

“What?” You chuckled. 

“You’ve got something here.” He reached out to cup your face, swiping your mouth clean like he did before. “See? Must’ve liked the chocolate pudding.” 

Before he had a chance to lick it clean himself, you grabbed his hand and brought his thumb to your mouth. His lips parted and his eyes darkened as he watched you wrap your lips around it, sucking on it gently. 

“It’s good…” you whispered, eyes fluttering when he cupped your jaw. The heat rising in the room was almost unbearable. Every second felt like an hour, every flick of his eyes between your own and your mouth like a century. The touch of his pinky grazing your neck had you shivering and all you wanted-no, craved was his mouth on yours. You bit your lip, releasing it with a pop before breathing out a soft laugh. “So are you going to kiss me or-”

You couldn’t say another word because Harry had already slid his hand back to thread through your hair and pulled you right in for a kiss. You whimpered as your lips met in a soft kiss. It started gently, but as the seconds went by and your hands ended up in his hair, it was getting hot and heavy. 

“Harry…” you sighed, breaking when you needed to breathe. 

“God I love kissing you.” He murmured, tipping your head back so he could kiss along your jaw towards your neck. 

“I…” you swallowed thickly while rubbing your hands down his neck towards his shirt buttons. You were desperate to see more of his skin. To feel more of it. “I want you.”

Harry paused, breathing heavily while pulling back to look at you. His lips were already swollen; all pink and yummy looking and his eyes had this dark look in them. It was a look you were sure you had given him countless times. When your heavy kisses got cut short or when you were forced to say goodnight when you really wanted to invite him in. You were sure you were giving it to him now. 

“I want you. Really fucking bad.” He admitted, reaching to push your hair back from your face. “I just don’t want to rush you, baby. I didn’t invite you over expecting anything and-shit.” Harry’s eyes widened as you bit the bullet and ripped your shirt off before putting it down on your lap. 

You were everything he imagined you’d be. No. You were better. Gorgeous in every way and in one of the prettiest bras he had ever seen. You could’ve worn anything though and he still would’ve thought that. But Jesus.  

“You’re not rushing me.” You whispered, “but I am wearing matching underwear so you can rush that if you want to…”

Harry swooped in again, holding your face in both hands to kiss you. “I want to.” He practically moaned, “but I’m not rushing anything with you. I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”

“Good.” You smiled softly, sliding your palms over his chest before undoing the top button. “Good.” You barely whispered the word before kissing him again. 

Harry pulled you closer by your hips, nudging your shirt to the ground so your legs thread into each other. He ran his hands over your torso, your waist and your arms while you worked on unbuttoning his shirt. His skin was warm and soft and you were addicted to the feeling of his chest hairs against your hands. 

He undid your pants, draping the zipper down before making the executive decision to stand up and force you up as well with his hands on your hips. Your pants and top fell to the floor with ease and he was quick to push the dessert plate and cutlery out of the way so he could pick you up and set you on the edge of the table. 

He was obsessed with how your body felt in his hands and under his lips and he wanted to explore every inch of you. He let his mouth trail along your collarbones and neck, down to the clevage spilling from your bra. You were so soft and sweet, so plush in his hands. Harry never wanted this to end and it had barely started. He hadn’t even tasted you yet…

“You’re so goddamn beautiful, y/n.” Harry breathed, taking a moment to just look at you. He reached in to kiss you gently while massaging your thighs, sliding his fingers so close to the edge of your underwear without brushing them at all. “Can I touch you?” 

“Yes.” You nodded eagerly, fiddling with the hair at the nape of his neck. That was when you caught sight of the twinking diamond on your ring finger. The reminder that despite all verbal permission given by your husband as per your arrangement, you were still going to sleep with another man while married. “Can I ask a favour, though. Before we… do anything?”

“Of course.” He urged, eyes softening. “Anything. What is it?”

His gaze was so soft… so endearing. Harry showed more care for what you were saying than your husband did in the months he was off dating other people. Probably for months before that too. 

You breathed out heavily, heart thumping in your ears as you pulled your ring finger off and played with it in your hands. “Will you put this in your pocket? I don’t want it on for this. I just want it to be you and me.”

“I’ll keep it safe.” Harry promised, holding his palm flat for you to put the ring on. “Even if you wore it, it would still be you and me, y/n.” He assured, sliding the ring into the tiny pocket at the front of his jeans. 

“It wouldn’t.” You whispered, smiling softly while reaching forward to kiss him again. “It is now, though.”

Harry moaned into the kiss, pulling you closer to him so he had better access to you. Then he went back to just touching you. Caressing you. He palmed at your breasts and your thighs and your belly… everywhere he could. 

Carson knew how to make you cum, but Harry didn’t and that was almost better. He didn’t skip through to the end, to what he knew would work. No, Harry took his sweet time running his hands and his mouth over your body, trying to figure out what you liked best. He wanted to memorise the little jerks or squeezes of your thighs the prettiest soft whimpers if he touched you just so. 

Harry loved the first time he slept with someone knew. It was a new experience and an entirely new set of likes and dislikes for him to explore. And after you dressed up so nice for him and wore what would’ve had to be the sexiest lingerie he had ever seen, Harry couldn’t have been more excited. He had been waiting for this since the moment he met you face to face. 

“What do you like?” Harry breathed, smoothing his hands over your stomach up towards your breasts. They slipped under the cups of your bra to push it above your nipples so he could pinch them in both hands. “Tell me. Please.” He was almost desperate, needing to know how he could please you.

“I like what you’re doing now. I like…” You swallowed, whimpering ever so slightly when he pinched your right nipple a little harder, “I like when you look at me…”

“What else?” Harry murmured, keeping his eyes laced with yours as he dipped down to tug at your nipple with his teeth instead. He soothed the ache with his tongue; all hot and slick. All you could think about was his tongue being somewhere else. Getting head was a rare commodity in your house. Carson was quite decent at it, actually, but it was one of those things where it took forever for you to cum. You both worked demanding jobs so when you got time or needed release, it was usually something quick to get the job done. 

But god, you’d kill to be eaten out. 

“Fuck…” you gasped, running a hand through his soft hair. While you were nervous about sleeping with a new man, there was one thing marriage life did prepare you for; saying what you wanted. You had no problems telling Harry exactly what you liked. “I like dirty talk too. I like to be praised…” you had to pause when he sucked on your nipple again, releasing it with a pop that had you shivering when the air hit the wetness left behind by his tongue. “Degraded too…”

“Yeah?” Harry cocked his head, smirking like you just unlocked something evil in him. “Anything you don’t like to be called?”

“Stupid. I don’t like being called a bitch, either.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, pretty girl,” Harry assured, tucking his fingers into the waistband of your pretty underwear and sliding them side to side against your skin. Harry would’ve loved to get you completely bare for him, but there was something so sexy about fucking you while you were wearing the lingerie. You wore it for a reason, it would be a shame to let it lay on the floor for the entire night, especially when you looked so fucking good at it.  “Tell me more. I want to know what I can do to you.”

“It’s too easy if I give you all the answers, Harry. I’ll tell you if I don’t like something.” You teased, sitting up from the table so you could run your palms all over his chest and up to around his neck.

He was just glorious. All tanned and muscular with littered hairs that made him look so much more manly. You could only imagine what his pecs would look like all sweaty while he fucked you. You hoped he’d hover over your head so you could lick at his chest and tug at that sinful cross necklace between your teeth. 

“Can I tell you what I want to do?” He proposed, hooking one finger on the underside of your underwear this time, moving it towards your mound but not down enough to feel how wet you had grown for him. He was so close to dipping his fingers into your crease. So close to being able to please you. 

“Please…” You breathed, eager and so damn desperate for anything.

“I want to fuck you while you’re wearing this,” he snapped at the fabric, maintaining direct eye contact with you. Oh, Jesus. Between his eye contact and his sultry tone, you were going dizzy at how direct he was being. You loved it. “Then I want to strip you naked and watch you bounce on my cock. Forwards… backwards.” He groaned at the thought and grabbed onto your ass, firmly pulling you closer to the edge of the dining table until his lips brushed with yours. You could feel the hard length of his cock press against your pussy, promising you that it would be deep inside you by the end of the night.

“I want to make your ass red so when you go home to your husband, he’ll know I fucked you better than he ever could.” 

It was another promise, that Harry would indeed fuck you better than Carson ever could. 

“But first…” Harry bucked his hips against yours, keeping his grip on your hips tight so you couldn’t wiggle away at his directed grinds over your clit. He kissed you gingerly, watching your eyes haze over as you whimpered softly. Between his cock and his words, your head was spinning. “I need to taste you. I’ve thought about nothing else but having my face between your thighs for weeks now.”

Harry grabbed your hands from behind his neck and pressed them down to the table on either side of your hips, bumping his nose with yours. “Do you like the idea of any of that, darling?”

You nodded eagerly, loving the sound of all of it. “Uhuh. All of it…” you inhaled a sharp breath, loving the feeling of his hands moving to knead at your inner thighs, “There is one thing though. Something I want.”

“Tell me.” He murmured, eyes wide and eager. He just couldn’t keep his hands off you. He was grabbing your thighs and your hips, craving the warmth of your body. 

“I want your cock in my mouth. I’ve been thinking about that since our first date.”

Harry smirked and you could feel the way his cock jerked right against you. It was big. You wanted to choke on it. 

“That can be arranged.” 

He reached in to kiss you again, groaning like a starved man while wrapping his palm around the back of your neck to guide you back down against the table. When you were flat he stood back up and stripped his shirt off fully, leaving him completely shirtless. 

Then he did something unexpected. With a shit-eating grin on his face he pulled up the chair he kicked away earlier and sat on it, shuffling close to the table like he was getting ready to eat a three-course meal. You were going to make fun of him for it, but you didn’t really get a chance when he slung your legs over his shoulder and nuzzled his nose right into the crotch of your underwear. 

“Jesus.” He moaned, eyes fluttering closed. Your jaw went completely slack at what you were witnessing. Never had a man looked so fucking hungry to eat you out. He was practically delirious and all he had done was inhale how sweet you were. Harry was looking forward to having your scent all over him. “You smell so fucking good, y/n.” He looked up at you again, hooking the very tip of his finger into the crotch of your underwear and sliding it up and down along your crease. “But do you taste as good as you smell?”

You nearly whined like some pathetic puppy, but you had to keep that inside as you didn’t want to appear too eager. Too easy. Truthfully, you were easy though. Harry was able to turn you on easier and quicker than you ever thought. And all over a little dirty talk and a slight obsession with eating you out. 

“Why don’t you find out?” You hiked yourself up on your elbows, bringing your feet off his shoulders and onto the edge of the table so you were spread wider for him. 

“Oh I will,” he pulled your underwear to the side, breath hitching at the first sight of your bare pussy. “You’re so gorgeous, y/n. I’ve been looking forward to this for a long… long time.”

When his mouth finally grazed your clit, you fell back against the table. You couldn’t hold yourself up even if you wanted to, not when he started eating you out like a damn starved animal. Harry moaned like you were the best thing he ever tasted and touched everywhere. He wasn’t clit happy or labia happy and he certainly didn’t miss-interpret one part of your anatomy for another.

“Fuck Harry… oh God.” You whined, pulling at his hair with both hands before suddenly letting go because you hadn’t asked if you could. You didn’t even know if he liked it. “Do you-” You could barely breathe let alone talk. “Can I pull your hair? Is it okay?”

“God, yes. As hard as you want,” Harry moaned like the idea of his hair being pulled was orgasmic. “Don’t stop, y/n. I promise.” He grabbed your hand and guided it back to his hair, giving you a reassuring nod before going back to your clit. 

Harry knew exactly what he was doing. How to tease, how to take advantage of your entire body to make you feel good. He kissed and nipped over your thighs and used his hands to squeeze your breasts and play with your nipples. It was all so wet and sloppy and you felt like your entire body was on fire. 

“God you taste… shit-” Harry broke for air, spitting directly over your pussy then spreading it around with two fingers, “you taste so fucking good, y/n.” He used one of those wet fingers and slid it inside you, pumping it a few times while slurping against your clit again. “Never thought a pussy could be so sweet… ‘m addicted.” 

He slid his second finger in easily, fucking you with both digits so good your arousal was echoing around the room. His high ceilings did wonders of making sound travel. Even with all the rugs and soft furnishing, the softest moan sounded so much louder. And you were anything but soft. Your noises were loud and unforgiving and every single one of them was going straight to his cock.

It also meant you heard every groan Harry made. Every single sound of pleasure he was feeling just eating you out. It was possibly one of the sexiest things you had ever experienced. A man with his head buried between your thighs moaning and being so fucking enthusiastic because he gained genuine pleasure out of it. He liked it. Harry ate you out like it was his favourite thing on planet earth. 

“You okay? You good?” He checked in on you, looking up at your gaped mouth and thrown-back head. You only moaned in response so Harry reached for your hand and threaded your fingers, squeezing them to get your attention. “Hey. Look at me.” He nudged, not happy with your lack of response.

You forced yourself to look down at him, nearly shaking at how intense his eye contact was. His (now) three fingers were still steadily fucking into you, but he had taken a much-needed break from using his mouth to check on you. “Good?”

“Yes. So so good. So good.” You nodded eagerly, trying to guide his face back to you with the hand still in his hair. “Just-please. I need it.”

“You need it?” He grinned, cocking his head ever so slightly. “Is it that good, baby? Do I suck your pretty clit so good that you need it?”

“Yes... Oh yes...”

“I need it too.” He admitted, dipping back in to swirl his tongue around his fingers, right where your poor needy hole was dripping with arousal. “You just taste so fucking good, y/n. I’d have you on my face every night if I could.”

You seemed to like that idea because he could feel you clench around his fingers, knees bumping into each other so his face was wedged between your thighs. Your underwear were a complete mess too; all soaked and creamy. Harry wanted to wring them with his teeth and suck them dry, but with the real thing pressed right against his nose, he didn’t have to. 

“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Letting me eat your cunt every night? Every morning, even? Would you let me wake you up with my head between your thighs? Let me eat you for a midnight snack. Because I would.” Harry moaned as he wedged his mouth over your clit again, kissing and licking at it, spitting at it so it was even wetter. You were practically a sobbing mess above him too and that only encouraged him to say whatever he wanted.

“Y/n, I’d worship you and this pretty pussy.” 

He slid his fingers out just long enough to smack them against your clit. It was gentle at first and he quickly soothed the sharp sting with his tongue. But he felt the way you jerked around his head, how your hips lifted off the table to get more. 

“Is it okay?” He breathed, looking up for an answer. This time, you were already looking right at him. You had been from the moment he left your aching cunt empty and needy because you wanted to see what he’d do. And what a sight. You were sure you’d never forget the image of him smacking your clit then making out with it like a starved man. It was ridiculous. 

Harry Styles’ mouth would kill you one day. You knew it would. 

“More than okay.” You nodded, bringing your intertwined fingers up to your breast so his large hand would squeeze against your nipple. “Do it again.”

He followed your request quickly and spanked over your pussy again, this time a little harder and with more surface area of his fingers. You gasped out a moan, back lurching off the table as they hit your swollen clit. He quickly soothed the burn with his tongue, this time blowing on your sensitive skin for a moment before languidly tracing swirls over your clit.

“Again. Harder.” You gurgled out, clenching your fist into his hair when he smacked your clit again. Harder. He slid those three fingers right back into you again, curling and fucking them roughly right against your g-spot. “Oh God… Harry!”

“Oh, you’re such a good little slut letting me spank you like this. Right over your little clit too, hm? Who knew such a pretty girl would like such dirty things.”

The dirty talk… you were going to pass out.

“You’re taking it so well, y/n” He cooed, pulling his fingers out to spank you again before they returned deep into your pussy. It was dizzying. The way he spanked you then fucked you then spanked you again like some quick endless loop. He was careful not to hit you too many times, but whatever he was doing was making you reach your orgasm faster than any other oral you had received. 

“‘M gonna cum, Harry. Please just…” You pulled his face back to your clit, urging him closer with your hand.

Harry didn’t argue and did what you seemed to like the most; those three fingers stroking right against your g-spot, one hand on your breast and his mouth sucking right over your clit. It seemed to do the trick too because not even ten seconds later, you were practically lurching off the table while crying out his name through a squirting orgasm. Your hand cemented him to your pussy so he could happily collect as much of your release right in his mouth. 

When you started to calm down, Harry softened his movements and pulled his fingers out of you. He licked them clean then pressed soft kisses all over your thighs and mound, even right on either side of your clit.

“You’re such a good girl, darling. Did so well for me.” Harry praised, squeezing your hand and keeping his eyes on your face as you panted and looked up at the ceiling. 

“God that was…” You swallowed thickly, pushing your sweaty hair from your forehead so you could look down at him. 

“What?” He nudged, smirking while kissing your inner thigh. “Good? Is that the word you’re looking for?”

“Your ego’s too big for your own good.” You laughed softly, sitting up so you could guide his mouth to yours. Harry was still smiling into the kiss until he relaxed into it. That’s when it turned heated again. The taste of your pussy and his mouth; your mouth too… it was all too much. “But yeah…” you sighed, “it was good.”

He stood up from his chair so you weren’t hunched down to kiss him and the moment you had access to his jeans, you started working on undoing them. Harry hissed into the kiss when you applied pressure to his hard bulge and he had to break free just to breathe at how sensitive he was. His cock felt harder than ever before. He didn’t think he had ever been this turned on and sore in his entire life.

This chemistry with you… it was otherworldly. Supernatural almost. A compelling pull like his cells were trying to fuse with yours. 

And you were married. He had to push that thought out of his head because only a few weeks into this and he was already considering asking you to leave your husband. 

“I need you, baby.” He panted, grabbing your hips tightly as you pushed his jeans and boxers down his thighs to free his cock. “Shit-”

You wrapped your hand around his cock while he helped you get them off the rest of the way. You couldn’t help but look down between you, needing to see how pretty he was. And pretty he was. Long and decently thick, so heavy in your hand. You knew he’d fill you up so good he’d have you seeing stars. Two fingers were usually enough to prep you for sex, sometimes even one depending on how turned on you were.

You were glad he chose three.

“Your cock is so pretty, Harry.” You complimented, squeezing your palm around him. Your eyes filtered between your working hand and his face, obsessed with how hooded his eyes became just from your hand. “So big too… I need you inside me. ‘M so empty.”

Harry didn’t quite realise when you said you liked dirty talk that you liked it both ways, but he rather enjoyed the filth spilling from your mouth. He found it cute that you could barely string words together when he was pleasuring you, but like this? It was the biggest fucking turn-on.

“Bend me over the table…” You begged softly, nipping at his jaw until you reached the shell of his ear. His cock was oozing precum down over your hand. He liked what you were saying. “Please. Make me squirt again…”

“Come here.”

Harry pulled you off the table and with a rough hand, spun you around to bend you over the table. You squealed as he spanked your ass without thought, spreading your cheeks wide to spit down over you. He planned to fulfil his promise of fucking you with this lingerie on and now that he was looking at your pretty holes bent over with the tiny string of lace tucked to the side… he couldn’t have been more excited.

“You’re just so hot, y/n.” Harry groaned, spanking your other cheek just to watch your ass jiggle. “So goddamn hot.”

“I’m hotter with a cock in me.” 

Your mouth earned you another spank, this time directly over your sensitive cunt. You squealed and jumped in place, but Harry easily soothed the ache with a friendly grind of his cock against your clit. Your knees buckled at the direct stimulation but Harry made sure you kept still by pressing his hand to your lower back.

“I need to get a condom,” he murmured to himself, suddenly remembering the dreaded protection right when his cock was so close to being inside you. 

“Hurry.” You gasped, forehead pressed to the table. 

“I will. I will.”

Harry fished the condom from his jeans pocket, placed there earlier in the evening in hopes of sleeping with you tonight. It was a just-in-case for something spur of the moment, though he didn’t start the night plotting a way to get you in his bed. He was glad now that he put that condom in there just in case, especially when you were waiting for him. 

Once the condom was on, he was right back in position. A hand on the small of your back and the other guiding the head of his cock to your entrance. Harry didn’t wait or tease, he just pressed right into you slowly and deliberately. 

“Shit-”

“Oh goddd…”

Your curses echoed at the same time, both as desperate as each other. Harry just stretched you so perfectly, on the cusp of too much and the best type of full possible. It helped that you were so damn wet, so turned on that he was easily able to push inside you. 

“God, baby. You're so tight.” Harry hissed, reaching forward to press a kiss to the middle of your back. You couldn’t even respond to his compliment when your body was still getting accustomed to a new man. A new cock. All you could do was moan and claw at the table, clenching around him. “Hey. You okay?” Harry checked, sweeping your hair back so he could see your face.

“Uhuh. Just… shit.” You whimpered, squeezing around him again. He cursed at how tight you were and collected your hair in a loose hold around his fist. 

“Y’sure?” He mused, pressing a kiss right in between your shoulder blades. “You’re trembling beneath me, darling.”

“Fuck me.” You begged. He was so deep in your belly and it was torturous having him so far inside you and not moving at all. “Please Harry just-”

He didn’t need to be convinced any further. Not with how sweet you sounded and how wet you were around him. You were a fucking dream and that only became more apparent as Harry started thrusting into you. He started with a slow but steady grind, fucking you with hard pressure like he was trying to memorise every inch of your pussy. 

“God baby. You feel so good.” Harry moaned, building up the speed with a good grip on your hips. He hooked his thumb into the small lace string of your underwear, pulling it to the side so he could watch his cock disappear into your wet cunt. And you were so wet. Your arousal coating his length and turning creamy the longer he fucked you. It was obscene. 

Mostly though, he was watching your face. Your cheek pressed to the table, mouth gaped open and eyes screwed shut as you moaned the-fuck the prettiest noises he had ever heard. He had barely shown you his best tricks and you were a mess beneath him. Had your husband really been lacking this entire time? Been leaving you so unsatisfied that a bit of doggy had you unravelling? 

He couldn’t bear the thought of you having to take care of yourself because your husband couldn’t do it for you. But maybe that was a good thing. Because then Harry would be there for you. He’d give you pleasure you had never experienced in your life. Over and over again. 

Starting with tonight. 

“Feel good baby?” Harry cooed, spanking your ass with a rough touch. 

“Yeah” 

“Yeah?” He repeated, spanking you again on the opposite side. Your whine echoed around the room, as did the sound of the dining table squeaking forward against Harry’s nice floorboards. “Say it, baby. Tell me how I’m doing, hm?”

“So good. God, you fuck me so good.” You moaned, “please- go… go harder. Harder.”

Harry picked up the pace, reaching to wrap your hair around his fist so he could pull your head back. “Moan for me, y/n. Moan my name.” He demanded right in your ear, spanking you twice on the same cheek. 

“Harry.” You cried out, feeling him smile in satisfaction at how pretty you took the pain. So he spanked you again and again as you moaned loudly into the air. 

“That’s it… Good girl. You’re taking it so well…” Harry gritted out, spanking your ass roughly while tightening his hand in your hair. You whined at the sting of your scalp, nearly sobbing at how fast and hard he was fucking into you. “S’like you were made for me, y/n. Just made for my fucking cock.”

He was fucking you so hard, so fucking good that the table kept etching forward and forward. Harry had to keep readjusting his footing and his grip on your hair. He combed his fingers through your hair and wrapped it around his fist, tugging hard when the table slipped forward again. 

But he was persistent and he wasn’t going to let anything stop him from giving you the fucking you deserved. 

“Y’sounds so damn pretty moaning my name, baby. Fucking love how sweet you sound.” 

His words elicited a moan; a filthy pretty moan only exaggerated when he tugged your hair harder. “You’re so big. So good.” You cried, “loveyourcock.”

You were addicted to the way he fucked you, even just the way he felt stretching you out but keeping completely still. It felt like you could almost reach an orgasm just like this with no clit stimulation at all which never happened. Nowadays it was your vibrator or nothing and now here you were one orgasm down and another so damn close. 

Still, you needed your clit touched and you couldn’t really reach it this way. 

The table etched forward once more and right as he pulled back to thrust into you again, the table slid forward making him slip out completely. He effortlessly slid himself back into you to continue, but when it happened a second then a third time you couldn’t help but giggle. Even through the deep pleasure and hazy mind, it was funny. 

“Fuck.” He cursed when his cock bumped against your ass cheek instead of where he actually wanted to be. He tapped it against your clit before grinding there, watching you squirm and let out a choked gasp through your light laugh. 

“I think we may need to switch rooms.” You giggled, looking over your shoulder at him while panting as you desperately tried to catch your breath. He had let go of your hair for a moment, planning on trying to continue until you suggested moving things elsewhere.

Truth be told, Harry jerked one out before you came. He didn’t plan the evening around having sex with you and would’ve been okay if nothing happened at all, but his cock couldn’t control itself around you. Just your presence and your scent could get him hard in no time so he tried to fuck the frustration out before you even got there.

He was glad he did so too because now that he was in the middle of feeling your sweet sweet cunt, he had a lot more stamina going onto his second orgasm. He could have you riding him through two more orgasms before needing to cum himself and fuck did he want to experience you squirting right on his dick. 

“I think so.” He breathed through a laugh and ran his hand through his hair, “c’mere.”

“Mh.” You agreed, standing up on shaky legs and sore hips. Harry grabbed you straight away and helped you turn around to face him. He cupped your face with one hand to guide your mouth to his, deepening it effortlessly while tucking his hands under your thighs so you could jump up and wrap your legs around him. 

You were slightly shaky in his arms, sensitive as he placed you gently on the floor in front of his bed. He broke the kiss to look at you for a moment, panting heavily while brushing his nose against yours. There was something about the look in his eyes that had you crumbling inside. They were soft and almost loving; so full of yearning and desire that you were almost scared to look back. It was overwhelming.

Harry danced his fingers down your neck and shoulder to your arm where the strap of your bra had fallen. Every touch was making you shiver and only causing that ache between your thighs to grow. You felt empty. Cold without his cock inside you. 

“Take this off. I want to see you.” Harry murmured, searching your eyes while waiting for you to nod before he kissed you once more and climbed onto his bed. He shuffled backwards until he was against his headboard, legs wide and cock hard and waiting for you to climb back onto him. 

He never stopped looking at you. Never stopped watching even as he wrapped his own hand around his cock and gave himself a few tugs to the sight of your body becoming bare for him. The prettiest of prettiest lingerie on planet Earth couldn’t compare to the sight of a womans naked body. Your bare, naked body. The soft peaks of your breasts and the way they fell naturally without a bra. The dip of your hips and tummy without the confides of lace. It was glorious. 

Harry could barely contain himself.

“You’re a vision.” Harry awed, jaw clenching like he was trying to control himself from dragging you onto the bed and pinning you down. 

“So are you.” You whispered while crawling towards him on the bed. You let your hands glide up his thighs once you were situated between them, taking the time to look over every inch of his naked body. You were in awe to put it simply and so goddamn attracted to him you were worried sex would never be the same afterwards. 

Because it wasn’t just the pleasure. It was the chemistry. The eye contact. The fact you two had a laugh about him thrusting against your ass cheek instead of inside of you because his table couldn’t handle the pressure. The way you could have that laugh just minutes ago and be back to this. The firey eye contact and his trembling thighs underneath your palms. 

“Can I have a taste…” You breathed, licking your lips at the sight of his cock up against his stomach. From this angle he looked even bigger than before and knowing he was just inside you… fuck. You could barely breathe. “Please?”

Harry groaned and wrapped his hand loosely around your neck, only applying light pressure right beneath your jaw. “Just a little, y/n. For now the only place I want to come is with you coming around me.” 

If only he was bare inside you…

“Okay… just a taste, H.” You nodded, pressing harder against his palm. You wrapped your palm around his cock, loving the sight of his jaw clenching at the touch. “Can I take this off?” You asked, rubbing over his head at the condom. 

“Yeah, baby. Take it off.”

Harry was going to lose his fucking mind. 

You were quick to pull off the condom then wasted no time in dipping down and licking a fat stripe from balls to tip on the underside of him. Harry groaned and collected your hair in his hand so he could see your face. Your eyes fluttered closed at the taste of him and the weight of him on your tongue. 

He was warm and heavy and you could taste yourself right at the base of his cock where your arousal dripped down. You made sure to clean it all up with your tongue, lapping at it while looking at Harry to watch his reaction. He could barely contain himself and with every lick his hand flexed in your hair like he was trying to control himself. 

“You can guide me. I like it when I choke.” You murmured, spitting directly onto his tip before sliding it into your mouth to spread it with your tongue. 

“God, you’re going to be the end of me.” He groaned, hand tightening in your hair with purpose. Harry reached for your spare hand, intertwining your fingers while pulling your mouth off him for a moment. You were like jelly in his hands, compliant as he instructed you to squeeze his hand once if you were okay and twice if he was too rough or you needed a break. More than happy with that arrangement, you agreed and squeezed his hand in preparation for him to guide your mouth down. 

He started to gently maneuver your mouth up and down his length, starting shallow at first before going deeper until he felt the tightness of your throat around him. You choked ever so slightly but squeezed his hand once and enjoyed the feeling of his cock twitch down your throat. 

“Look at me…” Harry breathed, forcing your eyes on his. “That’s it… fuck.” 

The sight had him gasping and moving your mouth over his cock faster. Your pretty little eyes all glistened with tears… God the sight was one of the hottest things he had ever seen. And the way you just took his cock without complaint and even moaned when you gagged around him… it was like you were made for him.

The feeling of his cock filling your throat was like nothing else. There was just something about choking on a man’s dick that got you all squirmy inside. You had always been a relationship girl and a bit of a ‘late bloomer’ according to those who thought losing your virginity in your early 20s was the biggest sin of the century, but that didn’t mean you were inexperienced. 

Your first serious relationship exposed you to things you had always wanted to try. A world of kinks and things you weren’t sure you’d like until you tried them, others you were certain you’d hate until you found out you didn’t. You always considered yourself lucky to have a guy introduce you to sex and provide an environment where you could not only lose your virginity, but experiment without any shame or constraints.

Funny how you ended up married to your next serious relationship after him to a guy who had no interest in anything remotely more exciting than a spank and a sporadic hair pull. You loved Carson enough to be happy with vanilla but fulfilling sex. It wasn’t like it didn’t have any passion, because it did, it just didn’t have this.

What Harry managed to provide you on your first night together (a night far from over as well) Carson couldn’t give you in six years of being together. You weren’t sure you could go back to your old sex life. Not now. 

“You look so hot like this.” You gasped, pulling off to breathe while jacking him off with your spare hand. Your other was still intertwined with one his and you had no plans of changing that. “I love having your cock in my mouth, Harry…” you moaned, reaching in to lick his length once more. “Feels so good.”

“Jesus.” Harry groaned, tensing his hand in your hair. “You’re doing so well, y/n. Such a good little cock sucker, aren’t you?” 

You moaned filthily at his degrade, letting him slide you back down over his cock. Your whole body was on fire. Even with only a little hand holding and hair tugging, you were beyond turned on and empty between your legs. The sight of him was just so beyond sexy, almost too sexy for you to handle. 

His chest was heaving and glistening with sweat. With every pant or moan his abs would contract and his thighs would tremble on either side of your shoulders. You wanted to see him cum so bad. You wanted to watch his jaw contract and his mouth part as he moaned your name. 

“You’re gonna make me cum, y/n.” He warned in this almost whine of a tone. “Need to cum inside you.” 

“I want it in my mouth. Wanna taste you.” You practically pleaded, tapping his tip against your tongue. 

“You’re incredible…” Harry groaned, using his hand on your hair to pull you up towards his mouth. He kissed you hungrily, angling your head in the direction he wanted so he could deepen it. “But…” he panted, breaking just to say that one word before kissing you once more, “I need to…” he nibbled on your lip and grabbed onto the back of your thighs, "… feel you around me when I come.” 

You whimpered as he dragged you in a straddle and pressed your wet cunt directly over his cock in a slow deliberate grind. Fucking hell. You just wanted to slip him in, to feel him bare inside you until you were full of his cum. 

But you couldn’t. And the fact you were half considering letting it happen on your very first sexual experience out of your marriage was insane. It scared you. 

“Condom.” You uttered against his mouth, tugging on his hair ever so slightly. 

“Yeah. Yeah.” He breathed, barely able to concentrate when you dragged your mouth along his jaw and neck. Harry reached for his bedside table and grabbed another condom from the top drawer, returning quickly to kiss you again while blindly unwrapping it. 

But it was like Harry was stuttering. Fumbling to do something as simple as putting a condom on his own cock. He couldn’t help it really. Not when your mouth was so sweet and erotic, nibbling at his bottom lip until all he could think about was how to hold his breath indefinitely so he could kiss you forever. 

And you were growing impatient. The few seconds delay in his movements had you so desperate you leaned back to breathe, took the condom from his hand and rolled it down on his cock in one swift motion. 

“Fuck me, baby.” This time it was Harry’s time to plead. He wound his hand in the hair at the nape of your neck and kissed you again, panting into your open mouth as you guided him to your entrance and dropped down on him once more. 

His cock felt so much bigger from this angle and he felt deeper too even though he was just fucking you so hard his dining room table couldn’t handle the force. Maybe that’s why you couldn’t control the loud whine flooding into his mouth when your clit hit his pubic bone. Or maybe it was because this position was far more intimate than being bent over. 

“You’re so big… feels bigger like this.” You gasped, lulling your head back while grabbing his shoulders for balance so you could start bouncing on him and getting a good rhythm going. 

“I know…” he cooed, squeezing your hips before spanking you quickly. “Show me how much you need it, huh?” Leaning in, Harry ran his mouth along your exposed neck, panting between little bites and licks on your skin, “show me how good m’cock makes you feel.” 

"Love your cock," You whined, already feeling the ache in your thighs as you picked up the speed.

Harry wrapped one arm around you and hugged you tighter while pressing the fingers of his spare hand directly to your clit. And with every bounce, every grind, his fingers stimulated right where you needed it the most. You were already so full with him and now he was giving you the cherry on top so you could finish.

"More... more, please. Need it harder."

"Need it harder?" Harry taunted, hiking his legs up on his feet in a wide position on the bed so he had enough stability to thrust up into you. "Like that?" He chuckled at your cry, squeezing your body in his arm so you stayed exactly where he wanted you.

"Yeah... yeah. Fuck!" you practically sobbed, unable to do anything but grab his hair or shoulders and just take how hard he was fucking into you. His legs were strong and while you were a sobbing, breathless mess above him, Harry wasn't losing momentum at all.

He was sweaty and panting but he never stopped thrusting up into you. At least that's what it felt like. While you gave up and begged for more, Harry was more than happy to take over and give you a fucking you'd never forget.

He thrived being in control. You could tell.

"That's it, y/n. You're taking it so fucking well, y'know that. Just sitting there and taking it like the good little slut you are. My fucking slut..." Harry cooed, dipping down to tug at your nipple. "Got me so fucking close, pretty girl. Just need you to come f'me."

Between his words and lips on your breast... his fingers pressed to your clit and the way his cock was bruising your insides, you couldn't hold on any longer.

“God, Harry. ‘M gonna cum” You cried, trying to warn him of the deep churning in your belly and the trembling in your toes.

"Look at me." He demanded, sliding his hand up into your hair to force your head in his direction. Your eyes fluttered open but despite your vision already hazy, you could clearly see the way his eyes were hooded, pupils wide and hungry. "That's it. Look at me while you cum, baby. Let me see how pretty you look."

Harry pressed his forehead to yours, opened mouths panting and brushed against one another. He watched closely when your mouth gaped wide and your eyes struggled to keep open as your orgasm hit. The way your brows furrowed and your entire body trembled on top of him and he could feel his lap and lower belly become soaked in your release.

It was glorious.

"Good girl." He praised, "Fuck. Fuck!" His words turned to mush when he reached his own orgasm and somehow even pulled you tighter against him so he could feel every inch of your soft skin.

Coming down was all open-mouthed kisses and laboured breaths and this distinct feeling that everything had changed. You two could never go back to casual and you most certainly couldn't look at yourself or your husband the same way ever again.

"I feel bad you only came once." You practically pouted, grabbing another spoonful of pudding to feed it to Harry. "It doesn't really seem fair."

What did seem fair, though, was finishing off the dessert neither of you ate after your intense workout. You were quite enjoying feeding a naked Harry delicious sugary puddings and it just felt morally wrong to leave the dessert sitting there when it was the perfect bridge between round one and two.

"Trust me. I'm more than satisfied." Harry chuckled once swallowing the delicious dessert. He dragged his fingers over your hip, loving how his t-shirt fit your frame. It was so casual and sexy. His clothes had never looked better.

"Well, I hope you're not tired because I'm not and I think I'd like to test your 27-year-old stamina." you shrugged casually, eating the last bite of the sticky date pudding.

"Oh really?" Harry raised his brow and gently took the spoon from your fingers to set them down on the plate. "Two orgasms wasn't enough for you?" He teased, moving the plate out of the way so he could cup your face and gently guide you down onto the bed.

"Mh mh." You shook your head with a smile and clasped your hands around the back of his neck while he adjusted your body to hover over you. "I think at least four..." you curled your leg around his hip and dug your heel right into the pudginess of his bum, "and I wouldn't mind a bit more effort put into making my ass red. You did promise that, didn't you?"

"More effort, huh?" He smirked and grabbed onto the underside of your jaw with a firm grip to pin you to the bed. "You've got no idea what you just started, little girl."

━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━ ♡ ━━━━━━━

Tag List: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @gurugirl @hsonlyangelxo @kkr102 @falloutby

@caynonmoondreams @theskyyabove @sykostyles @harryslittlefreakk @avaaas-world

@littlenatilda @grabiolla @forgetdelaney @hislcstyles @yourdatcrazyweirdo

@elidoho @esnyhoney @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs @lillefroe @harrysrockstarsgf

@hrrypinks @justlemmeadoreyou @swagg13r @whatamievendoingonhere @delicatepointofharry

@onlyangellucifer @youcan-nolonger-run @gotdrxnkonu @cheappackofcigerattes @idrawshapesonpeople07

@straightontilmornin @mellamolayla @stilesissaved @ribbonknives @scndsofsummer

@floral-recs @styles.sturniolo @maryjahps @babyfratelli7 @voniikg

@complikyfreak @tswiftsgf @triski73 @michellekstyles @freedomfireflies @tiredinwinter @butdaddyilovehim-hs

*please make sure your settings allow you to be tagged ❤️*

Please like and reblog if you enjoyed! 🤍

[harrysfolklore]

the universe needs leclerc!sister x harry. by the universe i mean me

kiss a musician - hs

summary: harry wants to date yn leclerc. the only girl out of the four leclerc siblings. her older brother who happens to be a formula 1 driver is not happy about it folkie radio: guys you have no idea how nervous i am of posting this idk why 😭😭 i really hope you like this otherwise i'll feel silly okay

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux and 502,255 others

ynleclerc hot girls cry on their birthday 💌

view all 9,736 comments

username1 HAPPY BIRTHDAY LITTLE LECLERC

username2 she’s the moment

scuderiaferarri Happy Birthday, Ferrari queen ❤️♥︎ by author

username3 AHH WE SHARE THE SAME BIRTHDAY

pierregasly Wow! I still remember when you were a little kid and you wanted to play with Charles’ kart. Happy birthday 🎉 ♥︎ by author

↳ yourinstagram when you and charles rocked justin bieber haircuts. cheers

↳ username1 HEEELP

carmenmmundt Happy birthday gorgeous gorgeous girl ✨ ♥︎ by author

↳ yourinstagram love youuu ty 💓

pascale_leclerc Joyeux anniversaire ma petite fille ♥︎ by author

lorenzotl Stop growing up right now 🥲🥲 ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 the leclercs are cry babies when it comes to her

arthur_leclerc It’s giving old lady

↳ ynleclerc stfu you’re like 5

↳ username2 LOVE THEMMM

alexandrasaintmleux My girl ❣️ ♥︎ by author

landonorris HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABE 😍 getting more gorgeous by the second ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 LANDO YOU’RE ON MAIN

↳ charles_leclerc How many times do I have to tell you to back off?

↳ username2 CHILL

lilyhme happy birthdayyy beauty, can’t wait to celebrate tonight 🕺♥︎ by author

↳ alexandrasaintmleux She has no idea of the surprise that’s coming her way

↳ ynleclerc JUST TELL ME ALREADY

charles_leclerc Happy birthday petite soeur, you might be older now but you’ll always be our baby ❤️ ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 AWEEE

↳ username2 protective big bro

liked by harrystyles, ynleclerc and 2,011,268

charles_leclerc I’ll always look after you. Joyeux anniversaire ma petite soeur ❤️

tagged: ynleclerc

view all 13,944 comments

username1 AWEEE

username2 MY HEART CANT TAKE THIS

alexandrasaintmleux 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 ♥︎ by author

carlossainz55 Happy birthday @ynleclerc 🎉

username3 charles adores her so much i can’t do this

landonorris happy birthday (again) i hope you got my flowers @ynleclerc 😘

↳ charles_leclerc That’s it.

↳ ynleclerc HE DIDNT SEND ME ANYTHING HES JUST MESSING WITH YOU FFS 😭

↳ username1 HELP MEEEEEEEEEE

username4 what is HARRY STYLES doing in the likes

↳ username1 charles x harry lore is real

ynleclerc Love you forever 💓 ♥︎ by author

lorenzotl Before both of you became annoying teenagers

↳ ynleclerc stfu you’re like 50

liked by username1, username2 and 27,936 others

harryupdates Harry performing at a private event in Monaco tonight !

view all 1,976 comments

username1 WTF?????

username2 WHATS GOING ONNNNN

username3 GOD I MISSED HIM SO MUCH

username4 someone dig in more information bc wtffff

username5 MONACO OUT OF ALL PLACES THATS SO RANDOM

username6 YALL I HAVE INFO!! apparently this is charles leclerc’s (formula 1 ferrari driver) sister’s bday party

↳ username1 OMFGGG

↳ username2 THIS CROSSOVER

↳ username3 imagine having a rich brother who can get harry styles to perform at your birthday party

liked by harrystyles, landonorris and 654,835 others

ynleclerc BEST PARTY EVER 😭😭 thank you to my angels @/charles_leclerc @/alexandrasaintmleux for putting this together for me, HARRY STYLES ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME ???? love you all so much 💓💓

tagged: alexandrasaintmleux, lilymhe, charles_leclerc, landonorris, harrystyles

view all 15,937 comments

username1 OMFGGGG

username2 OH TO BE YN LECLERC

oscarpiastri Coolest party ever 🤘♥︎ by author

username3 imagine being rich and pretty and having a rich and pretty brother who hires harry styles to perform at your party

arthur_leclerc Your gift from me was a Chanel purse, where is my post?

↳ ynleclerc sorry turtur but harry styles > chanel purse

↳ arthur_leclerc Fine I agree, Harry Styles is out of this world

username4 IT GIRL FR FR

francisca.cgomes I’m still hungover ♥︎ by author, iamrebeccad, alexandrasaintmleux, lilymhe

↳ iamrebeccad Same

↳ ynleclerc come to my place let’s bed rot together ♥︎ by francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux, lilymhe, iamrebeccad

↳ username1 i just want to be one of them 😩

username5 charles really got HARRY STYLES like antisocial harry styles who never leaves the house to perform at his little sister’s wedding. wow

username6 THIS IS FOR THE F1 x HARRY GIRLIES

alexandrasaintmleux You deserve it my gorgeous girl ❤️ ♥︎ by author

↳ ynleclerc you’re my favorite human on earth

↳ charles_leclerc I paid for the entire thing…

↳ ynleclerc did i ask?

↳ username1 LOVE THEM 😭

harrystyles Happy birthday again, YN. It was a pleasure to meet you and your brothers. Big love to the entire family x ♥︎ by author, charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc

↳ username1 HARRYYYYY

↳ username2 we NEED to see that harry x charles pic

↳ charles_leclerc Thank you for the performance, mate 🙌

↳ username3 this is still surreal to me

↳ ynleclerc best birthday thanks to youuuu ❣️

↳ username1 charles or harry?

↳ yourinstagram harry ofc

lorenzotl Love you so much, little one 💓 ♥︎ by author

landonorris When your babe posts you on main 😍 ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 LANDOOOO😭

↳ username2 i love their friendship and how they mess around to piss charles off

↳ ynleclerc my main bitch 😘

↳ charles_leclerc I’m logging out now

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by charles_leclerc, harrystyles and 597,367 others

ynleclerc anything interesting happening in monza this weekend?

view all 13,199 comments

username1 COOL GIRL

username2 if charles doesn’t win then we don’t care ♥︎ by author

arthur_leclerc Is that my hoodie?

↳ ynleclerc whoops

iamrebeccad You’re hanging out with me ���� ♥︎ by author

↳ carmenmmundt And me ♥︎ by author

↳ ynleclerc highlight of my weekend

username3 FORZA FERRARI

↳ ynleclerc forza charles*

↳ username1 REAL

landonorris Papaya looks better on you babe 🤩

↳ username1 sometimes idk if lando is just joking or if he’s being fr

↳ ynleclerc NO

↳ charles_leclerc I’m in your walls

username4 HARRY IN THE LIKES ???

charles_leclerc Ma petite soeur always supportive ❤️ ♥︎ by author

↳ ynleclerc im here for other reasons

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 599,637 others

ynleclerc HE WON 🥺🥺 i’ve never felt prouder of being your sister, you teach me what being resilient and fighting for your dreams means. IL PREDESTINATO. THE KING OF MONZA. FIER DE TOIN TOUJOURS

view all 13,986 comments

username1 AWEEEEE

username2 THE LECLERCS MAKING ME CRY TODAY

scuderiaferrari It's in his blood ❤️

username3 the way she was crying and hugging arthur when the camera showed them THE LECLERC SIBLINGS HAVE MY HEART ♥︎ by author

alexandrasaintmleux 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 ♥︎ by author

username4 BEST RACE EVER

landonorris I'll win more races for you babe 😘 ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 LANDO STOP

↳ ynleclerc you're all talk and no trousers

↳ username2 i love their friendship sm

harrystyles Congratulations @/charles_leclerc! ♥︎ by author, charles_leclerc

↳ username2 hARRY STYLES???

↳ username3 THIS IS SO RANDOM WTF

↳ username4 LSJSAFH WHAT??

↳ username5 I guess he became with the leclercs after the party 😭

↳ charles_leclerc Wow thank you mate! ♥︎ by harrystyles

charles_leclerc Je t'aime petite soeur ❤️ ♥︎ by ynleclerc

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 and 18,037 others

harryupdates Harry having in dinner in Italy tonight !

view all 1,028 comments

username1 BABYYYY

username2 italyrry lives

username3 IS HE ON A DATE

username4 BUUUB

username5 i was there and he was with a girl 👀

↳ username1 hello spill the deets ??

↳ username2 HUH

↳ username5 the girl was really pretty and they were chatting and laughing all night long, they looked cute

↳ username3 IM PANICKING NOW

ynleclerc has added to their close friends story

replies:

carmenmmundt Omg you went on a date !! So happy for you beauty ✨

↳ ynleclerc love youuu carm

francisca.cgomes THATS MY BABYYY who’s the lucky guy?

↳ ynleclerc can’t say yet 🤫🤫

alex_albon Charles won’t like this..

↳ ynleclerc he doesn’t have to know

landonorris NOOOO YOU’RE MY BABE

landonorris WHO’S THAT????

↳ ynleclerc that’s a secret i’ll never tell

harrystyles ❤️

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 and 25,477 others

harryupdates Harry out and about in Monaco today !

view all 1,987 comments

username1 BABYYY

username2 HE LOOKS SO RICH???

username3 ooohhh is monaco the new italy ??

username4 THE OUTFIT IM SALIVATING

username5 dilf dilf

username6 singlerry is the best thing ever

deuxmoi has added to their stories

liked by harrystyles, alexandrasaintmleux and 601,275 others

ynleclerc happy ❤️

view all 14,837 comments

username1 OMG BABY LECLERC HAS A BOYFRIEND ??

username2 PRETTYYY

francisca.cgomes 😍😍 my baby! ♥︎ by author

username3 BRO CHARLES IS NOT GOING TO LIKE THIS

username4 WAITING FOR CHARLES’ MELTDOWN

lorenzotl Wow I didn’t know about this, I’m happy for your, soeur 🤍 ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 the only sane leclerc ♥︎ by author

↳ charles_leclerc Don’t support this

landonorris BABE?? ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 OMFG THE FLOWERS COULD BE FROM LANDO

↳ username2 LANDOYN IS REAL

leclerc_pascale ❤️ ♥︎ by author

↳ charles_leclerc Don’t support this

alexandrasaintmleux 🥹🥹 ♥︎ by author

↳ charles_leclerc Don’t support this

↳ username3 HELP CHARLES IS SO ANNOYING

arthur_leclerc EXCUSE ME WHEN WAS THIS

↳ ynleclerc just flowers turtur

username5 CHARLES WAS FOUND SOBBING

username6 HARRY IN THE LIKES

charles_leclerc YN Pascale Leclerc, answer your phone right this second

↳ username1 NOT THE FULL GOVERNMENT NAME

↳ username2 PROTECTIVE BRO

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by harrystyles, landonorris and 604,827 others

ynleclerc but god i love the english ‼️‼️

view all 15,002 comments

username1 OMG

username2 AHH I FEEL LIKE SHES DATING LANDO

carmenmmundt 🤍🤍 ♥︎ by author

username3 HOW DID CHARLES ALLOW THIS

leclerc_pascale Belle 💕♥︎ by author

username4 HOLD ON. THATS HARRY STYLES IN THE SECOND PIC??

↳ username1 YOU’RE RIGHT THOSE ARE HIS TATTOOS

↳ username2 OH LORD

arthur_leclerc JUST SPILL

↳ username1 yn not telling her brothers anything is so 😭

username4 someone put charles on a straightjacket

username5 so yn is dating either lando norris or harry styles ?? what an icon

landonorris YOU’LL ALWAYS BE MY BABE IDC 😤

↳ username1 SO ITS NOT LANDO

↳ ynleclerc dude give it up

gemmastyles 💓♥︎ by author

↳ username1 OH

↳ username2 STYLES-LECLERC CONFIRMED

username6 CHARLES IS RADIO SILENT THIS IS SCARY

alexandrasaintmleux Prettiest girl forever 🥰 i’m happy for you ♥︎ by author

↳ username3 charles is single now

lorenzotl Petite soeur! Your happiness is mine 🙌 ♥︎ by author

↳ ynleclerc 🥹

↳ username1 lorenzo is such a supportive big brother :(

charles_leclerc You’re not allowed to leave the house once you’re back in Monaco

↳ username1 HEEELP

↳ username2 HES SO DAMN ANNOYING

↳ username3 POOR YN

liked by username1, username2 and 21,937 others

harryupdates Harry out in London today!

view all 2,011 comments

username1 BUBBBB

username2 WHOS THAT

username3 guys guys yn leclerc had that same outfit on her last insta story

username4 THATS YN LECLERC 😭

username5 HARRYYN STYLECLERC CONFIRMED

username6 bro how did this happen…

username7 that’s why he performed at her birthday and he kept going to monaco OMG

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

ynleclerc has added to their close friends story

replies:

francisca.cgomes 😂😂😂😂😂

alexandrasaintmleux He has his phone with him now

↳ ynleclerc i’ve muted the groupchat for my own sanity

alex_albon You’re going to give your brother a heart attack…

↳ ynleclerc that’s not on me he’s just dramatic

landonorris HARRY STYLES ????? HOW?????

↳ ynleclerc you don’t think i’m capable of pulling him?

↳ landonorris yes you are 😩

↳ landonorris you’ll always be my babe tho

harrystyles Don’t joke about that love I’ve been panicking all day

harrystyles has added to their close friends story

replies:

mitchrowland And one of them can run you over with a Ferrari, by the way

↳ harrystyles This is not helping my case

jefezoff 😂😂😂😂😂

gemmastyles You’ll survive brother (hopefully)

niallhoran YOOO you and Leclerc’s sister? How did that happen

↳ harrystyles I’ll tell you about it if i make it out alive after family dinner

ynleclerc you’re a cutie

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by harrystyles, alexandrasaintmleux and 602,838 others

ynleclerc 💋

view all 14,088 comments

username1 OMFG

username2 SHES INSANE

username3 GIRLLL ADDRESS THE RUMORS

gerogerussell63 🤣🤣🤣

alex_albon You're really going to give your brother a heart attack...

↳ ynleclerc he'll survive

↳ username1 THE WOMAN THAT YOU ARE

username4 THE HARRY LIKE PLEASE HES NOT SURVIVING THAT FIRST DINNER

username5 the vintage racing jacket and the shirt SHE KNOWS WHAT SHES DOING

arthur_leclerc DISGUSTING

↳ username1 HEEEELPPP

liked by username1, username2 and 48,047

gossiphub The Leclerc family was seen out to dinner in Monaco tonight, joined by Harry Styles, who's dating YN Leclerc

view all 3,099 comments

username1 OOOHHH MY GOD

username2 IT HAPPENED

username3 i can only imagine the talk charles gave to harry

username4 DID HARRY MAKE IT OUT ALIVE

username5 oh im praying for harry

username6 STYLECLERC IS ALIVE

username7 meeting her brothers 😭😭😭 i cant

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by harrystyles, arthur_leclerc and 1,022,337 others

yourinstagram dinner update: he made it out alive

view all 10,278 comments

username1 AHHHH

username2 THIS HARD LAUNCH

alex_albon 😂😂😂😂😂

username3 i just need to know how that dinner went

↳ ynleclerc enzo was a sweetheart as always, arthur was a fanboy the entire time and charles couldn't stop yapping about driving fast cars in order to scare harry

↳ username1 HEEEEEELPPP

pierregasly Now he needs to meet your chosen brothers

↳ ynleclerc NO

↳ francisca.cgomes Leave her alone ♥︎ by author

landonorris This is who took my babe away from me? 😩

↳ harrystyles Proudly ♥︎ by author

↳ username2 OMFGGGGGG

↳ username3 THIS IS TOO GOOD

↳ landonorris Can't even complain you're cool as hell mate

lorenzotl He's part of our family now ♥︎ by author, harrystyles

↳ charles_leclerc 😵

↳ arthur_leclerc CRY CHARLES

harrystyles First Leclerc dinner done. Now I need to survive my first Grand Prix ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 IM YELLING

↳ username2 OMFG HARRY AT A GP

↳ charles_leclerc See you in the Paddock, mAtE

↳ ynleclerc LEAVE MY BOYFRIEND ALONE

liked by harrystyles, ynleclerc and 2,011,272 others

charles_leclerc Ma petite soeur pour toujours ❤️🤷‍♂️

view all 16,043 comments

username1 AWEEE

username2 he's such a big brother

alexandrasaintmleux My 🤍🤍 ♥︎ by author

username3 i wish my brothers loved me

pierregasly Everyone needs to watch out for Charles when he's in big brother mode ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 tell that to harry styles

scuderiaferrari Name a more iconic duo ❤️

username4 I NEED TO KNOW HOW THEIR CONVERSATION WENT LIKE

arthur_leclerc I'll always be on your side @/harrystyles ♥︎ by ynleclerc, harrystyles

↳ username1 HEEEEELPPP

↳ username2 ARTHUR IS SUCH A FAN

↳ lorenzotl Same 🙌

↳ username3 HELP CHARLES IS ON HIS OWN

↳ ynleclerc my favorite brothers 🤍🤍

↳ harrystyles Thank you, Arthur and Lorenzo. I can't wait for golf this weekend x ♥︎ by arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl, ynleclerc

↳ username4 OMG HE HAS PLANS WITH THE LECLERCS YALL

↳ charles_leclerc I think I just got kicked out of my own family

ynleclerc you’re annoying and want to scare my boyfriend away, but i love you ♥︎ by author

↳ username1 they’re the besttt

[purplecoffee13]

Cross The Line*

Summary: “Harry and Y/N have always had a great professional relationship, all based on one rule; a line they drew the first time they met. But when one day that line accidentally blurs, Harry finds that he doesn’t want it to go back to the way it was…”

Wc: 13k

Tropes: Boss!rry x Secretary!Y/N

Warnings: A LOT of back and forth (this is what Katy Perry wrote hot and cold about), arguing, curse words, smut, dirty talk, degradation, light ch0king, dom/sub dynamics, edging, b0ndage, and recording while… yk🤗

A/N: I’m terribly sorry to have been testing your patience so much the second half of this year, here is a long one shot to say I’m sorry🥲 and I appreciate all of you and I hope you are happy and healthy and will get everything you want in the new year xx💘💘

General Masterlist

HEADER = POV change

Harry's relationship with his secretary is completely normal.

At least, he’s always thought it is.

Sure, it may have seemed more friendly than the usual boss/secretary relationship, but that was only because Y/N was special. She was one of the kind. Smart, stealthy, and sneaky if need be. She did everything he asked for, sometimes before he even realized he should ask her, and was always ready to do more.

Of course, she was attractive as well. Shit, attractive may have even been an understatement. Y/N was drop dead gorgeous and Harry was entirely aware of it. Her ambition made her even sexier, and it's one of the reasons he hired her in the first place.

When Y/N walked through his office door that first time three years ago, he couldn't believe his eyes.

He remembers it like it was yesterday, those wide eyes staring back at him as she froze a couple feet away from him. She was quick to regain herself, though—he had to give her that. But she was nervous as she sat down, even though her movements were calm and the tone of her voice stern. He saw the slightest shake of those hands of her.

Because that job interview hadn't been the first time Harry and Y/N came across each other. It was actually a Halloween party at some high end secretive club in New York one month prior. A night that ended with them hooking up in one of the private lounges.

Even back then, when he never thought he'd see her again, he knew that he would never forget that night, nor the way her face scrunched up as she clenched around him, or the sounds that she made as he drove into her.

He could see that she remembered it as well as she sat across from him that day, but Y/N had quickly made it clear that she was serious about pursuing a career in the film industry. She said she could prove what a great secretary she could be for him, as long as they could put that Halloween night behind them and pretend it never happened. She wouldn't make him regret it, she had told him. He took the chance.

And she had been absolutely right.

Three years had passed and Harry was still thankful to himself for hiring Y/N. She was the best around; fiercely loyal as well. Y/N had been offered jobs by other companies, but she turned down every last one of them. Harry liked to think their relationship played a bit of a part in that as well.

They had become friends—if that's what you could call it—over the years. They had a playful dynamic filled with flirty jokes and random phone calls and favors that blurred that line they had drawn so carefully during Y/N's job interview.

No matter what, Y/N would be the first Harry would call, every time. Whether it was bad business news or a drunken phone call, her number was most likely to be at the top of his last calls. And she always answered, even though she didn't have to. It was a special bond, and while they always danced on it—especially Harry—they never crossed that one line.

Not that Harry needed to. As a matter of a fact, he had quite the adventurous love life. With plenty of people on speed dial and a charming smile that could make anyone's panties drop, Harry wasn't short on romantic escapades. The one thing they all had in common, though, was that it'd never last longer than a few days, and they were rarely ever repeated.

The same couldn't be said for Y/N. In fact, Harry had never seen her with anyone outside of her work, and he never heard her mentioning anything about it...

He didn't know why, but somehow, that thought popped up into his head last Friday as they sat in his office with a drink, celebrating the outstanding reviews that critics had given the newest produced film that was set to premiere next week. Before Harry knew it, he was asking about it.

"Why are you rubbing your temples?" He questioned, watching Y/N massage the side of her head with her eyes closed. He was leaned back in his seat, whiskey in hand as he observed the woman across from him.

"Tension headache." She groaned in response. Despite her grumpiness, Harry couldn't help but grin. What could he say? She was cute when she was grumpy.

"We are literally celebrating, Y/N. What could you possibly be so tense about right now?" He teased, and felt his stomach swirl as a smile painted her lips. She might have rolled her eyes, but she still thought he was funny.

"Oh you have no idea." She mumbled, grabbing her glass and leaning back into her chair. She took a big gulp, her face pulling at the strong taste of the liquor. Harry chuckled.

"You should relax more. Maybe get a hot date to take care of some of that stress for you." He suggested jokingly. Y/N scoffed at the insinuation.

Shaking her head, she said: "I get taken care of just fine, thank you very much."

The equally teasing tone in which she responded caught Harry seriously off guard. Her slight grin pressed down on his chest, and despite having started this joking banter himself, he suddenly didn't find the topic very funny anymore.

"When?"

Y/N locked eyes with her boss. “What?”

"You're here 24/7, when do you even have time to hook up with someone?"

"You know there's this thing called weekends." She joked, but the amusement faded when Harry's mouth didn't even quirk upwards in the slightest bit. It fell quiet for a second or two, and just when Y/N opened her mouth to say something else, someone knocked on the office door.

"Come in."

Harry had said, and soon enough Robin, one of the managers walked in, telling them everyone was going to the pub down the street to celebrate, and if they wanted to come along.

Harry didn't even have the chance to reject the offer—he'd rather spend his nights with his secretary—before Y/N agreed to go along. Feeling obligated, Harry reluctantly gave in as well.

He ended up going home quite early that night, not even properly saying goodbye to Y/N like he normally would before leaving, and he couldn't get the image of her wrapped around another man out of his head the entire ride home. He didn't know why it bothered him so much. Maybe it was the fact that it shouldn't, and more importantly, couldn't bother him, which made it even less bearable.

Whichever reason there may have been for it, he decided to drown out his thoughts by inviting one of his old hook-ups to his house. But even as he drove himself into her as she kept screaming his name, he couldn't stop thinking of Y/N. When she had reached her climax and he began to chase his own high—Harry was caught off guard by Y/N's face flashing through his mind, and extremely embarrassed when those images triggered his orgasm.

The next week is awkward, to say the least. It started out Monday, when Harry could barely look Y/N in the eye. She had received the sudden cold shoulder pretty well, but Harry still felt horrible about it. His attitude got less stiff throughout the week, but it was still bad.

By the time Thursday rolls around again, Harry still hasn't had the chance to get that weird feeling out of his system. So when he approaches his office and spots Y/N behind her desk smiling at him, a wave of guilt washes over him.

He curses himself as he sinks into his desk chair, absentmindedly turning on his laptop. What is he doing? Y/N is his assistant. He shouldn't let his protectiveness of her get the best of him. He does not want to lose her in any way.

Harry flinches when there is a knock on his door. He looks up, finding Y/N standing in his doorway. Immediately, he signals for her to come in. She seems a bit nervous as she nears him, and considering she's never been nervous around him, his heart sinks at the idea that the cold shoulder he's been giving her the other night might have affected her way more than he thought.

He just doesn't know how to behave instead.

"You have a meeting in conference room C in five minutes. It's the banker's son who's been proposing his script for the past year. I  know your schedule is tight, especially with the premiere coming up, but I thought you might as well get it over with." She says, putting a stack of papers on the table that Harry can only assume is the script. He nods, quirking up the corner of his mouth.

"Thank you, smart thinking." The praise falls from his lips in a casual manner, and he doesn't miss the way she physically relaxes at the positive reinforcement. She nods at him, and turns back to the door. Right before she is about to leave the office, she turns around again. Harry leans back in his seat, waiting to hear what she'll say.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped last week." She says, and Harry frowns at the apology.

"What?"

"I clearly said something that ticked you off." She explains,her shoulders slumping slightly. "I know we joke around, but I was afraid that maybe I'd accidentally crossed a line—“

"Y/N, stop it." Harry interrupts her, getting up from his seat. Her lips are locked within a second, and she stares at her boss with wide eyes. His stomach twists at the sight of it. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"But— if I said something inappropriate then I want to apologize for it." She says, straightening her posture again, biting her bottom lip so he won't see it quiver. As if he doesn't know the way her body works. As if he hasn't known for three years.

Putting his hands inside his pockets, Harry walks around his desk and stands in front of her. A little closer than he needs to, and yet not as close he would like.

"Let me ask you this: How many times have you declined booty calls for me?" He asks, tilting his head a bit. A slight smile appears on Y/N's face, and she pretends to think it over.

"Twenty-seven." Her smile crinkles her eyes, making them even more glassy. Harry quite literally feels his hand itch to touch her face, but he keeps it sternly in his pocket. "I kept track so I could count all the reasons you definitely won't get into heaven."

At that, he lets out a snort. Y/N can't help but chuckle too, and slowly but surely the weirdness dissolves from the room. When the laughter has died down, she speaks up again.

"So... we're good?"

"We're good." Harry smiles at his secretary, and his chest heats up when he spots the faint blush that appears on her cheeks. Jesus Christ, did she become even more beautiful than she was yesterday or was he just too stupid to notice earlier? Probably the latter.

"Well in that case you need to leave because your meeting is like, right now." She reminds him, and he hums in agreement as he gets up from his seat and walks towards the door with Y/N.

"Already gone, love." He winks at her, walking out the door with a lot more confidence in his relationship with Y/N. Maybe everything can go back to normal again. Maybe he was just exaggerating when he couldn't get her out of his head this weekend. Perhaps it was just a glitch, a temporary error in his brain that had come and gone in a flash.

That must've been it, he tells himself as he makes his way to conference room C. He takes a deep breath, musters a polite smile, and opens the door to the room. Harry already knows this guy is going to be wasting his time, but he made a promise to hear him out, so he will.

The guy sitting at the table is the stereotypical spoiled rich son. When John Longwell—a long-time business partner of Harry's— asked him to revise his son's script as a favor, Harry told him he'd do it if he ever found the time. He always hoped John's son would lose interest and forget about the script by the time Harry could find a free space in his agenda, but unfortunately that hadn't been the case.

And although the arc of the story had sounded absolutely horrendous— something about zombies fueled by a brainwashing radio song, which didn't even make sense to Harry because zombies don't have brains—he couldn't back out anymore. So he needs to get it over with, starting now.

Harry loudly shuts the door.

The guy—whose name he can't really remember at the moment—flinches and turns around, a big grin on his face as he gets up from his seat.

"Mr. Styles, it's a pleasure to see you." The man says, extending his hand, which Harry, in turn, takes. He only gives a slight nod before heading over to the other side of the table and sitting down.

"So, where's your script?" Harry asks, eyeing the empty table. The guy looks flustered, opening his mouth to say something, but the opening of the door interrupts that. Harry leans back in his seat when he spots his secretary walk through it, not even eyeing the other guy as she struts over to him and lays the printed out script on the glass table.

"Sorry, you forgot this. It was still on your desk." She says, finally turning to the man to throw him an innocent smile. His sheepish grin satisfies her enough to turn back to her boss and focus all her attention on him. "I also forgot to ask you— do you want to move up lunch today?"

The corner of Harry's mouth tugs up. Over the last three years, the concept of 'moving up lunch' has become a code for 'should I get you out of this early?'. Y/N came up with it a long time ago, and it has stuck ever since.

"Yes, I would very much like that. Thank you, Y/N." He says, and the way a smirk slowly creeps onto her face makes the hairs on his body rise.

"It's my pleasure, Mr. Styles." She gives one final nod before walking out of the room and closing the door behind her. Harry would lie if he said he didn't let his eyes fall onto the way her hips moved as she strolled away.

Unfortunately the fun doesn't last long, and with the slam of the door Harry is reminded that he still has to sit through this meeting a little longer. He looks down at the script.

"A Thousand Zombies

By Jason Longwell."

Right, Jason, that was his name.

"Jesus Christ, if that were my secretary I'd have her bent over my desk all day. How do you get any work done?" Jason breathed out, grinning like a stupid fucking schoolboy. Harry quite literally felt the storm cloud that came floating right above his head the second he heard that incompetent loser say those words. His hands balled up into fists at the suggestive comment, knuckles getting whiter by the second.

"Get out." Harry growls. John raises his eyebrows, looking around him as if Harry couldn't have possibly been addressing it to him.

"W— what?" He stumbles.

"I don't do business with insolent idiots. Get out." Harry repeats, getting up from his seat and buttoning his suit jacket. John follows his movements, anger starting to cloud on his face.

"What the fuck did you just call me?" He exclaims in a failed attempt to sound intimidating. At least, Harry assumes that's what he's trying to do.

"I called you an idiot. Now, get the hell out of my face before I boot your sorry ass right to the front door." With one brow raised, he waits as John tries to muster a response until he eventually gives up and storms out of the room. Harry throws the script into the trash as he walks out of the conference room half a minute later. Y/N is immediately by his side.

"That was quick, I didn't even have time to think of an emergency." She jokes as they walk back to Harry's office together. He raises a brow.

"Yes you did. What was it this time? Food poisoning?" He guesses, holding the door to his office open once they've reached it. Y/N grins as she walks past him and takes a seat at one of the chairs in front of his desk.

"Actually, your car was going to get stolen in about five minutes." She responds, the blush of her cheeks revealing the slight embarrassment of having to voice this excuse out loud. Harry's eyes widen as he walks over to his desk, feeling his assistant watching his every move. He quite likes the feeling.

"No way." He laughs. "You just get more creative by the day."

"What can I say, I'm good at crisis management." She shrugs, crossing her legs and getting into a more comfortable position on the chair. Harry tries his best to not let his eyes float to her legs.

"That you are." He murmurs, the huskier sound of his voice giving a different ambiance to the conversation. As Harry feels the mood switch, he curses himself. Why did he have to ruin it?

Y/N clears her throat. "Anyway— why'd the meeting end early?"

"It ended early because Jason Longwell is a sleazy douchebag." He responds shortly, straightening in his seat in an attempt to gain control of the situation again. He can't let himself slip like this again, and she can't know the real reason he kicked out Jason. But there is no denying the sheer rage that boils his blood when that comment flashes through his memory. He hates that the asshole thought he could just speak about Y/N like that.

"Ooh, what did he say when you kicked him out?" Y/N asks eagerly, still in a playful mood. "You did kick him out right?"

"I don't have time to get into this right now. I need to sign those contracts that were sent in yesterday before I go home." Harry says sternly, avoiding eye contact with Y/N as he speaks, but he still sees the slump in her shoulders at his sudden shift in attitude.

"Right, of course." She immediately returns to the responsible secretary she always is, getting up from her seat. He hears her exit the room, heels clacking against the wooden floor. As soon as the door has shut, Harry throws his head back in frustration.

So much for going back to normal.

Playing into the teasing will only rope him further into that forbidden fantasy, and he clearly won't be able to stop himself from resisting her if he does. But he's the one who started all the playfulness, massively screwing himself over he realizes now. If he shifts his behavior, she's always going to think he's mad at her because of something.  But he's going to have to, because Harry can't go back to normal anymore.

Deciding he needs to clear his head, Harry grabs his coat and heads for the elevators without so much as a word. He pretends not to notice the way people's eyes widen when he walks by, suddenly on their best behavior, and although it used to give him an ego boost back when he started, nowadays he just prefers it if people aren't scared of him.

It turns out to be a particularly nice outside for a winter day in London. Not to get it twisted— it's still freakishly cold. It's just that the sun has replaced the endless rain of this entire month. Harry suppresses a chuckle at the irony of the sun finally being out at the very first moment where he's felt so shitty in a long time.

He doesn't know how long he's outside, so he knows it's not fair to be frustrated when he comes back and Y/N isn't at her desk, but he can't help the slight distress that washes over him at the empty seat.

"It's just a date—"

"Your second date!"

Harry creased brows don't do much to hide his feelings when he turns around to see his secretary with a co-worker. The shy smile on her face—accompanied with that blush on her cheeks she always gets when she's secretly giddy about something—disappears at the sight of her boss looking at her like she just killed a puppy.

"Ha— Mr. Styles." She is quick to catch her almost error. Her wide eyes bore into his, filled with confusion and worry. But Harry's frown doesn't give away much, aside. From the fact that he is obviously annoyed.

"I was looking for you." He states stoically, not even acknowledging the employee that is standing next to her. The woman takes the hint and gives Y/N and Harry a small nod before walking away. As soon as she does, Harry turns around and walks towards his own office. He can hear her footsteps following him inside, and with the inconsistent clacking against the floor he can tell she's having a hard time keeping up with his long strides. Still, he doesn't slow his pace.

"I need the papers for the donations printed out and on my desk. And I'll need you to move the meeting with the director of the romance movie to Tuesday evening."

"Yes, of course." The breathy response falls from Y/N's lips the second he finishes his sentence, and by the time he enters his office, she is long gone to do exactly what he asked. Harry shuts the door a little louder than intending to, accidentally shaking the framed artwork on the wall.

Y/N isn't very talkative for the rest of the day, that usual spark of hers seemingly having dimmed. Harry's chest is heavy, knowing his cold attitude was the catalyst for that, but he keeps it up nonetheless. He can't help himself from falling back into it every time he sees her face.

A date. She's going on a date. A second one at that. He can't believe it. Is this who she referred to when she said she gets taken care of? His stomach churns at the possibility.

He tries not to, but Harry still gets warped into the spiral of overthinking about 'date' Y/N has tonight. So much, in fact, that he almost doesn't notice the time flying by until Y/N knocks on his door at 6PM. Harry spots the coat that hangs over her desk chair, and he realizes the work day is over.

"Everything is done for the day and ready for next week. I also sent the papers about the donations with a courier who owed me a favor, so the documents are signed on both parts and the donations will be officially registered by Monday." She explains, hands behind her back. Her new shy behavior—while quite endearing—is excruciating to see. She had always been comfortable around Harry, until now. Until he had to ruin it for the both of them.

"Thank you." Harry gives her a firm nod.

"No problem." She responds a bit awkwardly. "So... I'm going to clock out for the day."

Y/N has already turned around by them time Harry's voice croaks out a 'no'. She whips her head towards her boss, head tilted as she awaited whatever it was that he was going to say.

"I need those contracts for that romance movie." He says before he can even comprehend his words.

"But you won't be negotiating that deal for another two weeks." Y/N retorts, her tone more stern than usual. He can tell she's tired.

"I don't care. I want them on my desk tonight." He holds his head high, despite knowing damn well what he's doing.

He's stalling. Long enough for... he doesn't know actually. For her to cancel her date? It sounds ridiculous now that he really thinks about it.

"Harry, I have an appointment tonight—"

"I said I don't care. I pay you to do as I ask. This is not something you can argue me on." He grumbles. With how Y/N's jaw is clenched, he can't say the same for her attitude. Without another word, she leaves the office.

Harry's worry begins to grow every minute that passes with Y/N out of sight. But when she returns with a stack of papers in her hand after a bit—seven minutes to be exact—that worry evolves into surprise. Walking over to his desk, she plops the papers on them a bit carelessly before speaking up.

"I had them made on Monday because I like to be a few steps ahead." She elaborates. "Now, if that's all, I'm going home."

Y/N doesn't even say goodbye when she grabs her coat and walks to the elevators. Harry sighs to himself, not knowing how the hell he should handle this. It takes him a few seconds before he realizes he really can't do this anymore. He needs to talk to her, if only just to clear the air.

And so, he gets up from his seat and hurries after his assistant.

He catches her just as she walks into an empty elevator, and he joins just before the doors close. Her knitted brows make it clear that she is not in the mood to talk to him.

"I'm sorry... about the documents." Harry confesses, but she doesn't face him. It stays quiet between them for a bit, until the biting sentence falls from Y/N's lips.

"You said we were good."

His heart cracks at her wobbly voice. He can't believe he made her feel this way. If any other person would've brought her to tears, he would've beaten the shit out of them. He reaches for her arm.

"W— we are." He lies. It's the biggest lie he's ever told her, and she knows it, because she immediately turns around.

"No we're not! I said I was sorry if I did something wrong, and you told me it was okay, and now all of a sudden you're being so... cold. I don't understand—" her eyes become glassy. "I don't understand what I did wrong."

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Harry opens his mouth, ready to spout out his apologies, when Y/N's phone starts to ring. It takes them out of their little trance, and Y/N fumbles around her jacket for a bit until she's finally found her phone. He can't see who's calling her, but it can't be an expected call if he has to judge by the expression on her face.

"Marco, why are you—" her eyes widen at whatever the voice on the other side of the line is telling her, and Harry subconsciously finds himself leaning in a bit in the hope to find out what's wrong.

"What?" Y/N breathes. Her voice is small, and it sounds defeated, tired. The elevator dings, signaling they're downstairs, but Y/N doesn't move, so Harry doesn't either. She seems to notice and lets out a huff before storming out of the confined space and pacing around the lobby.

"You said we had a green light! That was months ago, Marco! Did you even—" She growls, clutching at her phone so hard Harry is afraid she's going to break it. "You know what, never mind. Give me his number."

The Marco guy seems to say something that he really shouldn't have said, because with the way Y/N's face twists Harry swears he can see steam coming out of her ears

"I don't care that they're not answering, I'll make them answer. Give me their numbers and then go find them." She orders before ending the call. And although the thought really shouldn't be crossing his mind right now, Harry can't help but notice how attractive Y/N is when she's mad. He shakes off the thought, telling himself that's the last thing he should be paying attention to right now.

Y/N paces around one more time, cursing under her breath, before striding past Harry and pushing the elevator buttons like a maniac.

"What's going on?"

Y/N shakes her head. "N— nothing. Just a little hiccup that could've easily been prevented. I won't be long."

Harry raises a skeptical brow, but she doesn't dare to meet his eye. She's lying through her teeth.

"Y/N—"

"Harry, really, it's nothing. I'm taking care of it." She tries to convince him, but he notices the way her hands are slightly trembling. "I'm sorry I was unprofessional. You're my boss. It's my job to take your orders, not question them."

Wait, no.

That aching feeling fills his stomach. His entire body, for that matter. He doesn't want her to be a silent and compliant assistant. That's not why he hired her. He needs someone to push back, to joke around with. Shit— what has he done?

Harry finds himself speechless as she enters the elevator and pushes the button of the seventh floor; the office. His brain isn't fast enough to think of what to say before the doors shut and the elevator ascends.

His feet stay glued to the ground as he ponders, his mind reeling like a rollercoaster. Frustration fills his body to his every finger tip. Everything has gone wrong, and he has no idea how to make it better.

At least ten minutes must've gone by by the time that a concierge taps Harry on the shoulder to ask him if he's okay. Still a bit wary, he nods before excusing himself and leaving the building.

Everything is going wrong.

Leaning over the desk with her face buried between her arms, Y/N is unable to hold back the tears that glide over her cheeks.

First, her boss gets mad at her, and she has no idea why. Then, just when they seemed to be okay again, he changed his attitude up again. And what does she do instead of letting it go? She starts a fight. And now Marco drops a disastrous bomb in her lap that could entirely ruin the movie premiere on Sunday. And if that wasn't enough—and she really thinks it was—this sudden crisis caused her to cancel her date of tonight.

It wasn't anything special, really. Y/N had met Jamie a few weeks ago, and they went out last week. He was a nice guy, handsome too, and she thought he was perfect for a short lived affair. Besides, her vibrator just couldn't live up to her fantasies. She was human, she needed to get off every now and then too. It was like Y/N had this itch in need of scratching, one she hadn't been able to reach in what felt like years.

But that wasn't going to happen now. In fact, she was risking being fired if she didn't solve this problem as soon as possible.

Damn! She really thought she had kept it all together, despite the extreme business this year. She thought she'd done a good job.

But that was a lie, because if she had done a good job, Marco wouldn't have ever gotten into the position where an artist on the soundtrack could manipulate the contract they signed. Y/N had told Marco to make it airtight, already having been suspicious of the artists' integrity from the moment they became part of the soundtrack. She assumed that they would try something.

'Chain' was an up and coming band known for their indie sound, but Y/N would just describe them as two pricks. Not only had they been subtly demeaning to her when Harry met with them, barely acknowledging her existence, they were arrogant as well. They came in expecting a lot more money than Harry and the rest of the company were willing to give them. It was absurd that they expected such a big number, but their cocky attitude didn't fade throughout the meeting.

It was truly a favor to the director, why Harry worked so hard to compromise with Chain. The director had been so passionate about the movie, and he had really wanted the song. If one thing was important to Harry, it's that there went passion onto the projects he produced and invested in. So, he decided to help, and eventually managed to struck a deal with the singers. It was still way above the pay grade they should've got—in Y/N's opinion—but they agreed.

Having seen first hand how greedy those two were, she had told Marco—the guy who handled all the legal documents—to make that contract airtight. She demanded to look it over, but because of her busy schedule, she let Marco have another lawyer look at it before sending the contract.

And now, because of a lazy mistake Chain's lawyer found, they are demanding more money or they'll waive their rights to the music. Something which would be absolutely detrimental because the entire climax of the movie, the cinematography and timing are all tuned to the song.

If she doesn't find a way to solve this problem, this entire premiere could fall apart, and it would all be her fault. She gave the green light to Harry, who gave it to the director. It's all her fault. 

She should've fucking read that contract herself, then this would've never happened.

Between Harry being mad at her, the fact that she was in her luteal phase, and this sudden disaster, the tears began streaming down her face, and the soft crying only turned into full on sobs the more she tries to calm herself down.

She allows herself the mental breakdown, but when she begins to regain control of her breath again after a few minutes, Y/N decides that it's enough. She has a job to get done, and no one was going to swoop in and save her.

So, she starts making call after call, ringing everyone in the immediate vicinity of the two arrogant bastards. It's crucial she reaches them before the night is over. Only forty minutes have passed by the time she is on the seventh person, but it feels like an eternity nonetheless.

She flinches when, while trying to reach Chain's tour manager, the elevator door dings and a shadow nears. Her tense shoulders sink a little bit at the sight of Harry, glad it's not some creep. Her brows crease as she watches him walk towards her. He's carrying a couple of bags with... is that food? It sure smells like it.

When the call goes to voicemail—for the third time—Y/N puts down the phone and gets up from her seat, hurrying over to her boss and stopping him before he could reach her desk.

"What are you doing here?!" She asks, blocking his way. He lifts the bags, a subtle, apologetic smile on his face.

"I brought food—" He looks up at her, and his eyes darken as soon as he takes in her face. "Have you been crying?"

Y/N raises her hands to her face, quickly glancing at the ground while she wipes her cheeks before meeting his eyes again. Harry puts the bags down, and it feels like her heart skips a beat or two when his thumbs stroke the skin under both her eyes. He leaves his hand around her face, cupping her jaw while he stares at her with such a piercing pain in his eyes that it makes Y/N's eyes water altogether again.

"What's wrong?" His voice is soft, and the feel of his big, warm hands holding her is comforting her in a way she hasn't experienced in a quite some time. Y/N only focused on his chest, afraid that the welled up water in her eyes will spill out again the second she looks at her boss. She told herself the crying was over, so why wasn't she able to control herself?

A few seconds pass, and silence runs between the thick air that makes it nearly impossible to breathe normally. Then, Y/N feels the slight pressure of Harry's hands, inching her head upwards. Automatically, her gaze flicks to that of her boss, and when she sees the worry on his face, a tear escapes her eye. His thumb catches it before it has the chance to roll down all the way down her cheek.

"I messed up." She only says, closing her eyes in shame. Harry says nothing, only letting out a sigh as he continues to caress her cheek.

Suddenly, the phone rings. Y/N reluctantly backs away from Harry's touch, and runs over to her desk to pick up the phone.

"Hello?" She says, her voice laced with such desperation that she internally cringes at it.

"Y/N? It's Marco. I found them, they're at a studio just outside the city."

She hums, grabbing a pen. "Give me the address."

"No, I'm going. This is my mess, Y/N, I'm not going to let you clean it up." Marco croaks from the other side of the line, and Y/N feels his voice tug at her heartstrings.

"Marco, listen to me. This is as much my fault as it is yours. I should've read the damn thing and notice the mistake." She replies, leaning over her desk to grab her coat.

"Y/N, I'll take care of it, okay? I found a fault in their loophole, they're stuck. Let me handle this. You just go home and enjoy what's left of your evening I ruined—" Marco tells her. "Wait, didn't you have a date tonight? Oh my god, did I ruin your date?"

"I did... but it's alright. It probably wouldn't have worked out with him anyway." Y/N chuckled awkwardly and glanced towards Harry, who looked weirdly annoyed at what she said.

"I'm so sorry, I promise I'll make it up to you." Marco shares the desperate plea.

"You can make it up to me by giving me the address of the studio." Y/N tells him cheekily.

"Y/N..." he warns.

"What? I promise I'm going home. It's just so I know where you are." She lies. Y/N is a good liar, except in front of Harry. Having a tendency to get nervous, she always betrays herself. She's lucky that this is a phone call, otherwise Marco would've known she wasn't planning on going home at all.

Hesitantly, he gives her the address, which she immediately writes down on her hand.

"Okay, thank you Marco. Good luck." She says, hanging up the phone with a lot more confidence than ten minutes ago. She can feel Harry staring her down as she puts on her coat, clearly waiting for an explanation for this whiplash-like behavior.

"I really have to go."

Harry shrugs. "I'll give you a ride. You can explain everything to me on the way to your house."

Y/N shakes her head, walking towards her boss. "No, really, you don't have to."

"Yes I do." Harry argues.

"You really don't."

"Do you have a problem with me bringing you home, Y/N?" He asks as if he's dumb, as if he doesn't know she's secretly trying to go to that studio.

"No!" She is quick to protest.

"Or does it have anything to do with the address of that mysterious studio you've written on your hand?" He teases, and Y/N clenches her jaw in frustration.

"I just— I need to make sure it's handled." She sputters. Harry shrugs.

"From what I heard it's being handled just fine." He points out. "You've got to learn to let things go sometimes, Y/N."

She shakes her head, looking the floor. "I can't. Not with this."

Harry lowers his head, trying to get on the same eye-level as her and searching for her eyes. "Why not?"

"I told you; I messed up." Her voice quivers as she tells Harry the truth. "There was a mistake in the contract with Chain. Somehow they found a loophole, and now they want more money or they'll waive the rights to their song."

"What?!" Harry growls, exactly like Y/N anticipated he'd react. God, he's going to fire her any moment.

"It's my fault. It was a reference mistake I could've easily spotted if I had taken the time to revise it." She admits, feeling extremely shameful of her lazy actions.

"What are you talking about? This is the legal team's fault, they should've seen that damned mistake! It's not in your job description to revise a contract, it's not your responsibility. It's not your fault, Y/N." He explains. She sucks in a breath, his words hitting her harder than she expected. Heart aching, the one sentence rings in her head.

It's not your fault.

That couldn't be true, could it? She was responsible for this deal, and for Harry. She should've seen this coming, even though she couldn't have possibly known. Did she not always pride herself in having this sixth sense, in being ahead of everyone else? What was she without that? What was she if not the best at the one thing that made her special, that set her apart from the crowd. What was she worth without that invincibility?

"You revise every contract, don't you?"

Her eyes flick towards her boss. She doesn't say anything, but the answer is hidden in her pupils. And it seems Harry can read them like an open book. "How long have you been doing that?"

"Two years." Y/N stammers, her arms crossed as if it will keep her body from revealing whatever her mouth won't. Harry just lets out a breathy chuckle before pulling her into his arms, taking her into a sweet embrace. With his chin leaning on her head, Y/N takes the opportunity to bury her face in his chest, trying not to bask too much in the heavenly scent of his cologne.

"Remind me to give you a raise." He jokes in a soft whisper, earning a sniff of laughter from Y/N.

For a while it seems like everything that tore her down, including what went down between her and Harry, didn't exist anymore. There was just him and her, their embrace and a distant ticking clock, the only indicator of time passing. Yet it felt like the world stopped, or slowed down at least, being in Harry's arms like that. And suddenly, that itch that she hadn't been able to scratch in so long, it felt like it was soothed by a stroking hand instead, and in a way it fulfilled her. It just so happened to be a way she did not expect.

The initial shock at the realization—this puzzle piece that suddenly clicked—made Y/N back away. She clears her throat, fiddling with her hands.

"They're supposed to be at this studio right outside the city. It's only twenty minutes away by car. I just need to be sure." She announces. Harry grabs the bags of food he put down before placing his hand on her lower back and guiding the both of them back to the elevator.

"We'll take my car." He states, and although Y/N can tell by his tone that Harry expects there to be no talking back, but she just can't help herself.

"Harry, I told you I can take a cab." She suggests as they wait for the elevator door to open. Harry doesn't respond as he guides them both into the small space and pushes the button for the ground floor. When the door closes, he turns to her, looking down at her with such an intimidating stare that Y/N feels like she's shrinking.

"And I told you: we're taking my car." He says sternly, his low voice twisting her stomach in an interesting way. When Y/N goes to open her mouth again, Harry lays his finger on her lips. He hums in disapproval, shaking his head.

"I was being clear, right?" He asks rhetorically. His gaze sweeps over her mouth before settling on her eyes again. Not daring to speak another word, let alone breathe, Y/N only nods in response.

"Good." Harry responds, a cocky smirk framing his face as he strolls out of the elevator, leaving Y/N breathless and in a slight trance. Blinking a few times, she comes back to her sense and hurries after her boss.

Richard has always been a master at reading people, and this time is no exception. The second he began driving, he raised the partition, leaving Harry and Y/N with some privacy.

Harry really has a knack for hiring the right people.

The first few minutes of the car ride are silent, and Harry spends it observing Y/N as she picked at her nail beds, frantically looking at of the window as if it would make the car move faster. She has so much tension inside that little body of hers; she is clearly in need of a distraction.

"I think I'm jealous."

Y/N's head whips to him, brows raised at the sudden confession. Her body turns with her, knees now in Harry's direction as she leans back into the seat, getting comfortable as she lays close attention.

"Of me?" She asks, utterly confused. She seems very lost, not really connecting the dots. Harry doesn't blame her; that confession was quite out of the blue.

"Of whoever gets to take care of you."

Pure silence. Harry swears he could hear a pin drop. Y/N stares at him like a deer in headlights, probably having no idea what to say or do or think. She gulps.

"What?" Her voice is so soft that he almost doesn't hear her, but since all his focus is on her, he doesn't miss it. Letting out a breath, he leans forward, placing a hand on her thigh. His face inches closer and closer until their mouths are mere inches away from each other. Checking for her reaction with every small movement, he can't help but notice how she doesn't stray away from him. In fact, she leans in, causing their lips to brush against each other.

"The idea of another man touching you, having you, it makes my fucking blood boil." He says, voice hoarse. Her eyes frantically search every last inch of his face, looking for something she seemingly can't find. Perhaps she's attempting to find the usual playfulness that always accompanies any conversation that blurs that line between them. In that case, she could keep looking forever and ever, because he is dead serious. Fuck how it used to be and fuck whatever's right or wrong.

And most of all, fuck that line, because he's crossing it.

Harry closes the small gap between them, trying to suppress the moan that threatens to work up his throat at the sole feeling of her lips against his. What a fucking idiot he was for ever agreeing to forget about that Halloween night. Not that he ever truly did forget about it. Besides her obvious competencies, hiring Y/N was a way of keeping her where he seemed to like her best from the moment they met; close to him.

With that thought in mind, he wraps his hand around her face and pulls her closer. She complies, clicking her seatbelt free to move further towards Harry when he slips his tongue inside.

Their mouths move against each other like it's both the first time and the hundredth time they've done this. So familiar and yet it's like nothing he ever felt before. A sensation so different from three years ago, one so heavy and laced with a detail his brain can't quite seem to grasp. Deep down, he knows what it is, he just can't quite lay his finger on it.

But his body can, and it does, and so does Y/N's, because her grinding against him is exactly what he needs. His hand sneaks around her neck, lips curling into a smile at the familiarity of the curves of her neck and the identical moan that falls from her lips just as it did three years ago.

Harry groans when the car suddenly stops and Y/N falls forward a little bit, the friction against his trousers being a bit too much to bear at the moment. Slowly, the partition lowers, and without so much looking at them through the mirror, Richard speaks up.

"We've arrived."

Wrong. Harry clearly hasn't.

Before Harry can catch his breath, Y/N can get off his lap, and either one can even answer, the partition rises again. Immediately, Y/N throws her face into Harry's neck.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god." She wheezes out in pure, utter shame. Harry shakes his head, a faint grin on his face. He would have been laughing his ass off if he wasn't so painfully hard right now. Instead, he only pats Y/N's back, telling her it's fine. She groans and opens the car door.

"No it's not! God, I will never be able to look him in the eye again!" She says, punching the bridge of her nose. Harry shuts the door and grabs Y/N's waist, pulling her towards him. She stumbles into his chest. He lifts her face with his fingers, forcing her to look up at him.

"You're going to have to, because I don't want to fire him." He jokes, and Y/N bites her lip to keep her smile from growing too wide. Not wanting to give Harry the satisfaction that he made her laugh, she looks to the side, but her face expression falls quickly.

"This is not my apartment." She notes, looking at the huge building next to her. "This is yours."

Harry nods.

"I can't be at your apartment, I have to—" Y/N stops herself before she can say more. But Harry already knew what she was going to say. Playfully, he raises a brow.

"You have to... what?"

"To... I have to—"

"Sneak out to that studio?" He finishes her sentence, and her eyes widen. She tries to regain herself but her cheeks are flushed and there is nothing she can do anymore. He's got her. "Yeah, that's not going to happen."

With that, he places a hand on her lower back and guides her towards his building. She stumbles a bit, but eventually catches onto the pace. But her body language is apprehensive, looking back at the road where Richard is standing. Or well, was standing. Harry ordered him to drive away as soon as they got out of the car.

Still, she turns around in a quick motion, trying to get to a cab. Harry's arm catches her, however, and he pulls her back against his chest. Along with his other hand, he turns her around, catching sight of her big eyes boring into his.

"Don't try me." He speaks slowly, dipping his head down until he finds himself inches away from Y/N. "You know what happens if you try me."

His voice is lower than before, having flipped a switch now that her mouth has been on his. He got a taste for the first time in years, he wasn't going to let her get away now. Y/N's breath hitches, eyes flicking down to his mouth.

Knowing he's got her right where he wants her, Harry pulls back and strolls toward the entrance of his apartment building. Soon enough, he hears those heels behind him and he smirks.

It's silent when they step in the elevator, and for the first few seconds, as Harry leans agains't the wall and observes his secretary, it stays that way. She eyes him a couple of times, her ears getting redder.

"What?" She breathes out, looking down at her body like there must be something wrong if he's looking at her for so long. He simply shrugs.

"Nothing. Just admiring you."

At that, Y/N vigorously shakes her head and crosses her arms. A soft scoff leaves her mouth, one she didn't think Harry would hear, but he did. He takes a few steps towards Y/N, inching her against the wall.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?" He asks sincerely, searching for her eyes. When she finally looks up at him, the nervous smile on her face fades a bit.

Harry doesn't like that look on her face. Needing to fix it, he leans forward and plants his lips on hers again, grabbing her face and pulling her into him. It only takes a matter of seconds before her arms are wrapped around his neck and their bodies are impossibly close to each other again.

Tongues delving deeper into each other's mouth, Harry feels himself floating on some sort of feeling. Despite not being able to define it, he is absolutely positive that he doesn't ever want it to stop. And since kissing Y/N causes this specific feeling, the only feasible option is to never stop kissing her. It's the best plan he's had in ages.

It doesn't take long before the situation gets heated, much like it did before, and Harry's hands trail to Y/N's hips to pull her against him. Desperate for any sort of relief, Harry's hips automatically start to move, and Y/N immediately responds. His body feels like it's on fire, and he tries not to let out any sounds as his strained cock rubs against his tight pants.

Harry takes his lips off Y/N's mouth, peppering kisses to her jaw instead. Slowly, he works his way towards her ear, where he stops to whisper in her ear.

"I'm going to remind you how fucking beautiful you are." The hot breath that left his mouth had her shuddering against him, a slight whine escaping her lips. As he leaves sloppy kisses on Y/N's neck, Harry's free hand slowly travels under her shirt, finding her bra.

She gasps softly when his hand starts to massage her breast, the sensitivity of both spots leaving her hot and bothered under Harry. Fuck, she is so fucking stunning, how did she not see it herself?

Suddenly, the elevator stops, and the door opened. Taking a step back, Harry only winks at Y/N before he turns around and strolls out as if it's a casual Friday. As if he doesn't have his secretary, whom he left high and dry, trailing behind him like a lost puppy.

"Would you like something to drink?" He asks when they enter his home, Harry immediately going into the kitchen.

"Absinthe." Y/N breathes out, leaning over the kitchen island. Harry peeks inside his fridge.

"I only have white wine."

Y/N shrugs. "I'm sure it'll have the same effect if I just keep drinking."

Harry chuckles, grabbing the bottle of wine and placing it on the counter. He walks to a cabinet and takes two wine glasses out of it. Placing one in front of Y/N and the other in front of himself, he opens the bottle and starts pouring, not stopping until the glasses are halfway full. Y/N laughs at the ridiculously full wine glass that he pushes her way, but takes it gladly. He doesn't miss the way her breasts nearly spill out of her top as she leans forward a bit further than intended to in order to grab the glass.

"To the unexpected." She says it like it's a dare. Amused, Harry decides to entertain it, and nods his head.

"To the unexpected."

They raise the glasses before both taking a long sip. Y/N rests her arms on the table, giving a perfect view of her tits right in Harry's frame. She smirks when his eyes accidentally fall on it, and Harry's stomach swirls with excitement. She's trying to play.

"Crazy, how fast life can change, isn't it?" She asks rhetorically, and Harry just hums, waiting patiently for her to reveal what she's trying to do. "I mean, I got up today thinking I'd end the day in another man's bed."

There it is.

She's always been smart, and she knows how to push Harry's buttons. Though his fingers grip the kitchen counter tightly, so much that his knuckles turn white, Harry keeps the corners of his mouth lifted.

"And now you're here." He says, head tilting just a bit. She hums in agreement, taking another sip from her wine.

"Yeah, but just crazy to think that I went into the day thinking I'd hook up with someone else." She tells it so innocently, as if she's mostly talking to herself. Harry's jaw clenches as he stalks around the kitchen island and nears Y/N.

"But you're not, though." Harry notes, falling right into the trap. He knows what she's trying to do but he just can't help himself. He doesn't like the idea of her being with another man. He waits for her answer, hearing his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

"I know, but I could have—"

Before the sentence has entirely left Y/N's mouth, Harry's hand flies to her neck. The amused look on Y/N's face tells him enough, but he doesn't care.

"You're not. You're in my bed tonight, and any night after that as far as I'm concerned, so I don't want to hear another fucking word about it."

Her eyes twinkle with amusement as she stares up at him. "You really are jealous."

The corner of his mouth tilts upwards, "And you've gotten feisty over the years."

Y/N bites her bottom lip, humming in agreement to his observation. Harry lets out a soft chuckle, tightening the grip on her neck. Y/N gasps in surprise.

"But do you still like to be put in your place?" He asks, inching his face close to hers. The answer is written in her eyes, and yet Y/N doesn't respond. When it's clear that she won't anytime soon, Harry's free hand sneaks around the waist of her pants. She shivers at the touch.

"Well? Do you?" He repeats himself, and slowly but surely, Y/N nods her head. Harry lets out a disapproving noise. "That's not a proper answer."

Closing her eyes, Y/N lets out a deep breath. "Yes, I like to be put in my place."

"That's what I thought." Harry laughs, taking his hands off of her entirely. She frowns, but her eyes widen when he barks out a demand. "Take off your clothes."

He watches carefully as she follows his orders, and she clearly takes her time stripping down to her underwear. When she has, she looks to him for some sign of approval, but Harry just raises his brows. His hands are sunk into his pockets as Y/N lets out a little breath and takes off her bra and panties.

His eyes trail down her body, his cock hurting at the sight of her. God, she's beautiful. He feels like an absolute idiot for not having fought for her earlier, but he reminds himself that he can't change the past and that she is here now, stark naked in his kitchen. A grin spread across his face.

"Do you remember how you addressed me all those years ago?" He asks. It takes a few seconds before Y/N answers, but she gives him a firm nod.

"I called you sir."

Harry nods. "Rules haven't changed. Now, get on the counter."

Her eyes flick to the marble countertop, shock flashing through her eyes. "But Har—"

His right brow lifts ever so slightly. Catching the hint, Y/N stops herself before she can finish the sentence and hoists herself on to the cold countertop. It must not be very pleasant to lay your naked body on that freezing surface, but it was an uncomfortable temporary obstacle. The results would be great, and in about thirty seconds, she'd forget all about that cold touch against her skin.

Harry pulls out one of the bar stools and sat directly in front of Y/N. Spreading her legs apart, he catches sight of that perfect pussy he has been waiting three years to taste again. Like a starved man sat in front of a feast, the urge to dive right in is almost too strong to bear. But before he has her writhing under him, he wants to make her shiver.

"Can't believe it took us so long to get here." Harry hums, tracing his fingers up her thigh, carefully observing the way Y/N tries to control her breathing. Her fists are balled up into curls, attempting to send her concentration to anything else than Harry. He tries not to let his smugness show too much, but he has to say he likes seeing her struggle a bit. A bit of payback for trying to toy with him just now.

"You've always been stubborn." Y/N jokes, a gasp strangling out of her when Harry's fingers ghost over her clit. He chuckles, the tone of his voice so low that it could almost be considered evil.

"If I remember correctly, you're the one who wanted to forget about that Halloween night." He notes. Y/N hums.

"I also made the condition to act professionally, but we didn't do that either." Her eyes gaze into his, catching the fond smile with which he stares at her. A faint blush erupts on her cheeks.

"You drew the line." Harry retorted, and Y/N scoffed.

"You crossed it about a hundred times." She argues in response. He only hums, that cocky smirk on his face.

"I did, and consider this hundredth and first time to be the last, because I'm not getting behind that line again."

Y/N has never been so turned on her in her entire life. Harry’s words are the epitome of determination, and the way his fingers slip inside her so easily the second he finishes his sentence only solidifies that notion. The gasp that leaves her mouth is cut short and evolves into a low moan as Harry’s lips latch onto her clit.

Sensitive would be an understatement for her current state. She is aching, and the way Harry is ravishing her almost hurt. But any pain dwells in comparison to her desire she was overcome with at the situation she currently finds herself in. She is on Harry's kitchen counter, legs spread wide open and letting him do all the things that slipped into her dreams over the past three years.

Harry sucks in all the ways that made her squirm, moving his fingers with such ease that made it seem like he has fingered her a thousand times already. As if he knows her like the back of his hand, as if he knows all her secrets, even ones she doesn't know herself.

Y/N's hand buries itself in Harry's hair when he begins to kitten lick her clit, and she feels that inevitable climax inching closer and closer. She wonders how she had been able to keep herself composed for so long, because the high that creeps up on her feels like it was long overdue.

Unfortunately, the sensation comes to a grinding halt when Harry backs away from Y/N. Her head shoots up, and finds him leaning over her body, wearing boyish half-smile that is now glimmering with her juices.

Wrapping one arm around her waist and the other one under her legs, he picks her up bridal style. She holds onto his shoulders, burying her face into his neck as he carried her to his bedroom. When she begins unbuttoning his shirt, he throws her on his bed. She lets out a soft yelp, bouncing onto the bed.

"So greedy..." Harry tuts in disapproval, but Y/N doesn't quite care. She wants him, bad, and now that she's had a preview of what's to come she doesn't want to wait any longer. She needs him and she needs that orgasm.

She pulls him closer by his pants and starts to unbuckle his belt. "You're taking too long."

Y/N is about halfway done when Harry's firm hand wraps around her neck and pulls her closer to his face. Inching down, he growls: "You'll take what I give you."

"Then give me something." She spits back, and Harry's eyes turn five shades darker at her invitation to a challenge. He slowly leans back, Y/N watching his every movement in anticipation.

"On your stomach."

Y/N stomach swirls at the command, and she obeys as quick as she can. It stays silent for a little bit, and she awaits his further actions eagerly.

"Hands behind your back."

Again, she does what he says. Y/N doesn't dare to turn her head as she hears Harry walking around his room. When she feels a silky material around her wrists, she knows enough. He's tying her up.

Knowing better than to do otherwise, Y/N keeps her mouth shuts as Harry makes an impenetrable knot with his tie. She moves her wrists, assessing how tight it really is, and gets interrupted by a punishing slap on her ass. The sting remains for a couple of seconds, and she is sure there is now a red print the size of Harry's hand on her right cheek.

"Ass up." He barks out his final order, no doubt smirking as she changes her position, slightly struggling now that her arms are of no use.

Y/N bites her lip in anticipation when Harry's hand grabs onto her hips, steadying himself behind her. She slightly flinches forward when the tip of his cock teases her entrance, and attempts to speed up the process by leaning backwards a bit. She's rewarded with another slap on her ass.

But then Harry finally sinks in, and that dreadful itch that plagued Y/N for such a long time is finally scratched, over and over again as he begins to pound into her with long, slow strokes.

"Fucking hell..." Harry murmurs, his cock suctioning into Y/N's tight, clenching pussy. He is so big, and it bruises her in all the right ways.

"Oh baby... thaaat's it." He groans when Y/N begins to bounce back on his cock, aiming to get it even deeper inside of her. She is ruthless in her movements, groaning at the overwhelming sensations. When Harry gropes her ass— and his nails bite into her skin—she loses control.

Burying her face into the mattress, Y/N screams as she reaches her peak. The sound of Harry's moans at her pussy convulsing around his cock only strengthens her orgasm. Her mind goes entirely blank as the shattering release ripples through her like an earthquake. The only thing she can think of is Harry's name, and it's the only thing she cries out as the dizzying explosion settles all over her body.

"You really are desperate, aren't you?" Harry sneers as he pulls his cock out of Y/N, letting go of her hips. She nearly falls over, her tied up hands making it difficult to catch herself. This orgasm was so intense, she could feel the three years of pent up tension as it washed over her. Her cheeks are burning red and her teary eyes makes her vision somewhat blurry.

Y/N is thrown off when Harry suddenly turns her around and she finds herself lying on her back. The way he towers over her would have been intimidating had it not been extremely hot.

"Came on my cock so fast..." he mumbles cockily, corner of his mouth pulled up like the arrogant bastard he is. "Such a slut for it."

Y/N wants to give him some snappy comeback, but her brain is still fried from the orgasm and she's always liked to be degraded in bed, so she decides to only glare at Harry while he speaks. He catches it, and his grin only widens.

"You know it's true, baby." He tells her, bringing your legs over each of his shoulders. That deviant smirk is the last thing Y/N sees before her eyes roll into the back of her head at the feeling of Harry's cock stretching her out again.

He leans forward, almost folding her in two, and reaches deeper. He stays there for a few seconds—as if he is catching his breath—then slowly backs out of her before slamming right back in. Y/N lets out a screech that, if it hadn't been for the desperation laced in its tone, would've sounded like someone was trying to murder her.

Trying to keep her own moans at a minimum, Y/N closes her eyes and listens to the harsh slaps of Harry's skin against hers, and the groans that escape his mouth with each thrust. The strength behind each movement makes her clench around Harry, who in turn hisses her name as if it were a curse word. It only causes her to clench more. 

"Fuck, such a pretty little whore." Harry praises as he drives into her. Y/N can only whine, her tits bouncing uncontrollably at the impact of his motions. She must look fucking helpless. Opening her eyes, she catches the way Harry looks at her; like she's a dream. Like she's his dream.

"My pretty little whore." He growls, leaning back and holding one of her legs with his arm while the other reaches for her breasts.

"Yes..." Y/N breathes as he begins squeezing her breasts, getting lost in the sensations of him. Somehow it feels like Harry is everywhere. As if he has latched onto a part of her soul and she feels him coming to claim that every time his cock sinks into her.

"Such a tight fucking fit." He groans, taking her nipple between his fingers. "You should see how perfectly your pussy sucks in every inch of my cock..."

Y/N bites her lip as Harry talks, trying not too get too overwhelmed by the filthy things he's telling her as he plunges in and out of her. Her eyes catch the flex of his muscles that occur with every thrust, and she wonders how she got a man so perfect to fuck her stupid like this.

"Should record it... make a little video for just the two of us. What do you think?"

Oh my god.

"Don't you want to see how perfect we fit together?" He taunts, thrusting his hips harsher than before, hitting a spot that had been untouched for quite a while now. Y/N's face scrunches up.

"F—fuck! Yes, yes..." She responds when Harry stills inside of her to await an answer. He chuckles at the apparent hurry in her voice and reaches for—what Y/N assumes to be—his phone, on the bed. His motions are slow and soft, determined to keep Y/N satisfied at least a bit while he logs into his phone and searches for the camera app. She notices the start of his recording by the sudden change of pace and force of his movements.

His camera is pointed right at her pussy as he begins thrusting deep inside of her, and Y/N screams out Harry's name. The concentration on his face as he captures how she takes him proves too much to bear, and she shuts her eyes tightly, head flopping to the side.

She can hear his ragged breathing over all the other sounds that their bodies are making. The small grunts he makes in an effort not to moan too loudly is all she can focus on, and the tension in her belly grows exponentially with each vibrations of his voice that reaches her ears.

Harry slows his pace, putting more emphasis on the impact of his moves. It allows him to bring his free hand down to touch Y/N's clit. Her legs begin to shake the second he does.

"Are you gonna come again for me? I'm so close, baby. I can tell you are too." The softness in the delivery of his words have Y/N's ovaries rattle. She can only nod, a whine that was an attempt at a 'yes' falling from her rosy lips. Harry grins, his eyes flicking from his phone to her face. Everything feels so hazy, much like a daydream.

"Please don't stop." She squeals in such a high pitch that surprises even herself. Y/N had no idea she could go that high. Harry's bringing out an entirely new side of her.

"I'll never stop, baby." Harry rasps, pressing down on her clit in such a way that Y/N becomes cross-eyed for a second. Her nails grip into the bedsheets, the second release rippling through her like a hurricane. She never quite understood the word bliss, until now. This must be it; this feeling of... pure ecstasy.

Like a blank canvas splattered on with all the bright colors that exist in the world; fresh and exciting and psychedelic in a way. Impossible to define yet such a specific feeling. Y/N let all of it tingle from her head down to her toes, wanting to remember it forever.

The continuous pounding Y/N through her orgasm comes to a grinding halt when Harry reaches his own, pulling out just in time for his sperm to coat her puffy clit and swollen tits. His camera is focused on her frame, recording every spurt that paints her. She's the canvas, he's the colors, Y/N realizes. Harry is her definition of bliss.

The words shared between the two are scarce as Harry unties Y/N's hands, picks her up and carries her to the bathroom to clean her up. But the smiles on their faces says enough, both knowing what they feel is rare, and beautiful. Y/N assesses Harry's face, concluding that the soft edges of it makes him look like a proper angel.

When he's dressed her in one of his shirts, he takes her back to the bedroom, where he pulls her against his frame. Y/N wraps one leg around his torso, hugging him from the side with her head buried into his neck. The way his chest rises and lowers fills her with pure ease, and she leaves a few soft kisses in his neck as a silent thank you. Harry only hums in satisfaction, his arm only tightening around you, as if he's afraid you might let go.

"I'm never gonna let you go now." You tell him before you can even fully comprehend your words. Your heart starts racing, afraid that might've been too soon to say.

"Promise?"

Your racing heart is now melting as you turn your head and see Harry holding up his pinky. You are quick to interlock it with your own.

"Promise." You say with a smile.

General taglist: @mema10