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gurugirl · 3 months ago

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DILF | older!harry

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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."

. .

→ PART 2 ←

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finelinefae · 6 months ago

Text

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.

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pinkboaclub · 2 months ago

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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

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golden-reverie · 1 month ago

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Burnt Out

Author’s note: Hello to anyone who sees this! I’m Elodie, 24, from the Midwest. I love to experiment with writing, and my guilty pleasure is anything to do with Harry Styles. I’ve been so inspired by all the amazing writers on here, so I finally decided to take a stab at something of my own. I hope you enjoy :)

Summary: You’ve been running yourself ragged over a work project, and Harry isn’t having it.

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: MDNI, spanking, punishment, fingering, pre-established dom/sub relationship, stern dom!harry, sub!reader, fem!reader, aftercare, all actions and dynamics are consensual

The soft glow of the laptop screen flickered against the walls, casting restless shadows in the dimly lit house. Y/N’s fingers danced over the keyboard, her eyes locked onto the cascading lines of code. Stray wisps of amber hair had escaped the messy bun atop her head, and she absently chewed on the end of a pen—an old habit from her college days. The room was silent, save for the rhythmic clicking of keys and the quiet hum of the laptop’s fan.

Harry lingered in the doorway, arms crossed, watching her with a mixture of concern and quiet frustration. The faint aroma of the dinner he’d prepared still clung to the air, a cruel reminder that she had once again skipped a meal in favor of work. Outside, the streetlights cast a soft, silver glow through the thin curtains, tracing ghostly patterns on the floor. Y/N remained wrapped in the world of her screen, completely oblivious to his presence.

He cleared his throat, his voice cutting through the hush like a blade. “Y/N, it’s late. You need to come to bed.”

She didn’t look up. “Just a few more minutes, Harry. I need to finish this.”

Harry sighed, raking a hand through his unruly curls. “You’ve been saying that for the last three hours. You need a break.”

This time, she did glance up—just long enough for him to catch the flicker of exhaustion in her gaze before she turned back to her work. “I can’t. This project is a big one. I have to get it done.”

Harry pushed off the door frame and strode toward her, his presence heavy, unyielding. A warm hand landed on her shoulder, grounding her. “You’ve been at this nonstop for weeks. You need to take care of yourself.”

She shrugged off his touch. “I will. Just not tonight.”

His jaw tightened. “That’s not how this works, Y/N. You know the rules. You agreed to them.” His voice remained level, but there was an edge to it now, a quiet authority that she could no longer ignore. “Your body needs food, rest… You’ll burn out if you keep this up.”

Y/N’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, but for the first time in hours, she hesitated. She exhaled slowly, her voice softer, but still laced with defiance.

“I just… need to finish this. Can’t you see that?”

Harry’s expression didn’t waver. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You can finish it tomorrow. During normal hours. Right now, you need sleep. I already let you skip dinner, and we both know that wasn’t the first meal you’ve ignored lately.” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a murmur. “I’ve run out of patience, love.”

Y/N stilled. She understood the implication behind his words. Her breath hitched, cheeks heating.

“Harry, I can’t just—”

“Yes, you can.” His tone was gentle, yet immovable. “And you will.” With deliberate ease, he reached out and closed her laptop, the sudden silence deafening.

She finally looked at him, her eyes flashing with something between defiance and reluctant surrender. “You’re being over the top,” she muttered.

Harry smirked, tilting her chin up with his fingers, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Maybe I am. But someone has to be.” His thumb brushed against her cheek, slow and deliberate. “You’re not taking care of yourself. And that’s not acceptable to me.” His voice was softer now, but it carried an unmistakable weight.

The air thickened, charged with something unspoken yet undeniable.

He took a step back, nodding toward the staircase. “C’mon. Up you get.”

Y/N hesitated for half a second before pushing up from her chair, her body drawn to his like a tide to the shore. As much as she wanted to argue, she knew he was right. This project had pushed her past her limits—late nights, skipped meals, unanswered texts and calls—Harry had let a lot slide. But tonight, that grace had run out. And now that she had been pulled from the blue-light-induced trance she had been under, she found herself grateful for his insistence.

As they ascended the stairs, a different kind of tension coiled low in her stomach. She knew exactly where this was going, and she could already feel the electricity crackling in the space between them.

Harry sat on the edge of their bed, his eyes steady as she hovered in the doorway. He extended a hand, beckoning her forward.

“C’mere,” he commanded.

She found her place in between his legs. His hands fell to her hips and slinked around to the soft flesh under her ass, holding her in place. She looked down at him, anticipating his next move.

“I think you have a pretty good idea of where this is headed, yeah?” His eyes held a quiet patience that stood in sharp contrast to the inevitable sentence looming over her head.

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, avoiding his gaze.

Harry hummed in approval. “I’ve let a lot slide these past couple of weeks,” he said, tilting his head forward in search of her eyes. “I know big projects come up and that they sometimes get the better of our judgment. That’s just life. But you’re not doing yourself any favors by skipping meals and running on two hours of sleep each day… I know you know that.”

She rested her hands on his shoulders, fingers toying with the fabric of his shirt. A nervous habit.

He blows out a soft sigh, brushing his fingers against her skin, “I gave you plenty of chances to course-correct, Y/N. I wasn’t expecting perfection, but you’ve been running yourself into the ground, and that’s not something I can just overlook.”

She chewed her lip, her gaze flickering anywhere but his face. “I know. I’m sorry.” A frustrated breath escaped her lips, “It’s just… this project is important to me, and you know how cutthroat my coworkers can be. I can’t afford to fall behind.”

“I understand,” he says, lightly squeezing her flesh beneath his hands. “And I love how hard you work, but regardless, you know you can’t be on your A-game if you’re not taking care of yourself… That’s why we put these rules in place, remember? He moves his right hand up to her jaw in a silent command to meet his stare, “Because I love you and I care about you.” His voice was steady, eyes unwavering. “And sometimes you need a reminder to care about yourself, too. Yeah?”

She maintained eye contact this time, the guilt she had been trying to push aside settled heavily in her chest. “I love you too.” she mumbles, her voice barely audible. “I’m sorry.” It wasn’t just an apology—it was an admission. She had ignored the rules, brushed aside her own well-being for weeks, and now the weight of it all felt like it was seeping out of her pores, pooling at his feet.

Harry lets his hand drop from her chin, his expression firm but not unkind. “And I appreciate that,” he says, his tone shifting, sharpening. “But you know the deal.”

It wasn’t necessarily a question, but she answered him, nonetheless.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Alright, over my knee,” he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. He patted his thigh—a silent summons, firm and absolute.

Y/N hesitated for a moment. Not out of reluctance, but out of the sheer pleasure of the moment—this dance between them—the thrill of defiance followed by sweet surrender. She always wanted this, always needed this, and until right now; she hadn’t realized how much she’d been craving it.

He didn’t rush her. He never did. He simply waited, watching her with steady, knowing eyes. The weight of his gaze alone sent a shiver through her, anticipation thrumming beneath her skin. Taking a slow, measured breath, she finally relented, placing her hands on the mattress for balance as she draped herself over his lap.

He took a moment to admire the sight before him—the gentle arch of her back, the delicate vibration in her limbs, betraying her excitement. His hands smoothed over her spine, warm and comforting, a soothing contrast to the tension coiling inside her.

He could feel her trembling almost imperceptibly as she laid there—a quiet, unspoken longing bubbling up from her core. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her leggings, peeling them down her legs with deliberate ease before tossing them aside.

His palms roamed over the swell of her ass, his touch featherlight, teasing. Y/N bit her lip, resisting the instinct to press her thighs together as he traced the lace trim of her panties, feeling her heat radiating through the delicate fabric. That alone nearly unraveled him. His cock strained painfully against his sweatpants, but he forced himself to linger in this moment—the exquisite torture of making her wait, of drawing it out until she was teetering on the edge.

His hands traveled upward, finding the hem of her shirt, fingertips grazing the sensitive skin beneath. He heard the small hitch in her breath, watched as goosebumps bloomed across her flesh. Slowly, agonizingly, he lifted the fabric, removing it from her body, letting the cool air kiss her bare back as she shivered in his grasp.

He towered over her, his presence commanding every ounce of her attention. His voice, low and unwavering, wrapped around her like a steel chain. “Is your work more important than your own health?”

Y/N inhaled sharply, steadying herself before she answered. “No, Sir.”

“And who decides when you’ve had enough?” His head tilted slightly, waiting—expecting.

His voice rumbled through her, a dark, velvety vibration that settled deep in her bones. Her breath hitched. “You do, Sir.”

A flicker of approval danced in his eyes. “Good girl.”

His palm ghosted over the curves of her ass, tracing gentle circles that did little to soothe the anticipation humming in her nerves. “I want you to count for me.”

She barely had a moment to brace herself before his hand left her skin—only to return with a sharp, resounding crack.

“One!” she gasped. But before she could stop herself, her right hand shot back instinctively, trying to shield herself from the sting.

Harry was faster. He caught her wrist effortlessly, pinning it against the small of her back. His fingers wove through hers, the delicate touch at odds with the firmness of his next words.

“You know better than that.” His voice carried a quiet, heavy disapproval that made her stomach flip. “We’re starting over. Every time you squirm, we’ll go back to one again. Understood?”

Y/N swallowed hard, resisting the urge to whimper. He meant business tonight. “Yes, Sir.”

The next blow landed just as hard.

“One, Sir.” This time, she tagged on the honorific—not required, but a subtle touch she knew he'd appreciate. A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips.

Then came the next. And the next.

“Two, Sir… Three, Sir!” The quick succession stole the breath from her lungs, leaving her voice edged with both pain and something deeper, something needier.

He could feel it—the way her body responded, her skin flushing beneath his touch, heat rolling off her in waves. His palm burned against her flesh, but he reveled in it. He lived for this part: the slow, deliberate breaking down of everything but sensation.

By number twelve, the sharp slap landed against the tender flesh of her lower thighs, and she wailed, the sound raw and unfiltered. Tears pricked at the edges of her vision, but still, she forced the number past her lips.

Harry knew her body better than she did. He knew exactly how to unravel her, how to make her cry out first from frustration—then from sheer, unadulterated pleasure. He wanted her mind empty, consumed only by this, by him.

The next set of strikes sent waves of something heady through her, an intoxicating blend of pain and euphoria. Her breath stuttered. She barely managed to grunt out the numbers between each punishing impact, her body trembling, craving.

By the time he reached twenty-eight, her head had fallen slack against the bed, silent tears soaking into the duvet. This was the most Y/N had ever taken. Normally, he didn’t have to go past twenty before she surrendered completely, but tonight—tonight she had been stubborn. Each slap chipped away at the stress, the tension, the weight she had been carrying for weeks.

He felt the moment her body gave in. The way her fingers went limp in his grasp, her voice raw, spent. She wasn’t resisting anymore—just accepting.

“Thirty, Sir,” she sobbed, the words almost lost in the haze of exhaustion and relief. Then, softer still, “I’m sorry.”

Harry let his hand relax, fingers tracing slow, soothing circles over the heated expanse of her skin. Her body was still shaking, but not from pain. Not anymore. He knew she had slipped, drifting into that quiet, blissful space where nothing existed beyond the warmth of his touch and the safety of his presence.

And he wasn’t about to pull her out. Not yet.

For a long moment, the only sound was the steady rhythm of his palm smoothing over her, and the lingering, uneven sniffles escaping her lips. He let her breathe, let her be.

After a couple minutes, he leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as he murmured, “You did so good baby. I’m proud of you.”

He pressed a few final, featherlight kisses along the curve of her lower back, his breath warm against her skin as he murmured, “Are you ready for me to check on you?”

He already knew the answer. Knew what he would find when his fingers slipped between her thighs. The anticipation sent a thrill down his spine as he let his hand drift lower, tracing the seam of her slick folds, drinking in the heat that seeped into his skin.

She was dripping.

Harry was hard beneath her, the evidence pressing insistently against her stomach, and he knew she could feel it too. But tonight wasn’t about him. Yes, she had broken the rules—deserved the punishment she had just endured—but more importantly, he wanted to strip away the weight she had been carrying. He wanted to unmake the stress that had hardened her and replace it with something softer.

His thumb found her clit, circling with just enough pressure to make her squirm, a broken whimper muffled against the duvet.

“Good girl, Y/N,” he praised, his voice a low hum of satisfaction.

“Just gonna make you feel good now, yeah?”

He slid a finger inside her, slow and deliberate, while his free hand threaded into her hair, stroking, grounding her.

Her nod was small, but he felt the way her body melted, giving in to his touch. Wetness seeped onto his thigh, further proof of how much she needed this—needed him.

He pushed a second finger inside, reveling in the way her walls clenched around him, her body trembling from the overwhelming sensations. With every stroke, he could feel her tension unraveling, her muscles slackening, the last remnants of restraint slipping away.

The world around him dissolved as his fingers curled inside her, seeking out the spot he knew would make her crumble. “You’ve been so good for me,” he whispered, his lips grazing the damp skin of her shoulder. “Took your punishment like a champ. Now, I want you to come for me. Just like this.”

Her skin tasted of sweat and salt, the scent of her arousal thick in the air.

Y/N was a paradox—a perfect blend of submission and defiance. As obedient as she was, that stubborn streak of hers ran just as deep, a constant challenge that kept him on his toes. But nights like this? When she surrendered completely, yielding every inch of herself to him without hesitation?

He savored it. Relished it. Worshipped it.

Because having all of her—mind, body, and soul—was a privilege he would never take for granted.

He studied her like an artist captivated by the final stroke of their masterpiece, burning the view into his memory—the flutter of her lashes as her eyes turned glassy, the flush that crept down her neck, the way her cunt clenched so tightly around his fingers as if trying to keep him there forever. He wanted to teach her to let go. To release all the anxiety, frustration, and exhaustion that had been suffocating her for far too long.

But he needed it to come from her—wanted her to own her pleasure as much as he did—to know that she was worthy, desired, loved.

Harry’s fingers slid deeper, moving with deliberate slowness as they arched just right, pressing against the spot that had her moaning, her body instinctively grinding against his palm. Her face was buried in the duvet, eyes squeezed shut as she gasped, overwhelmed by the rush of sensations flooding through her.

“Come on, Y/N. Let go for me,” he coaxed, his voice dripping with filthy promise.

Her body tensed, and he knew he had her. She trembled on the precipice before the dam broke. A shattered moan tore from her lips as pleasure ripped through her, muscles spasming in tight, rhythmic waves. The heat of her release coated his figures, and he didn’t stop—not yet.

He worked her through it, his thumb never relenting from the steady, precise strokes against her clit. He wanted everything. Wanted to hear her cry out for him, to watch the pleasure drag her under until she had nothing left to give.

And under she went.

Her cries turned breathless as the last tremors wracked her body, her limbs going boneless beneath his touch. Slowly, he withdrew his fingers, smirking at the needy little whimper she made at the loss. He soothed the ache with soft strokes along her trembling thighs, grounding her as she came back down.

“Atta girl, sweetheart,” he cooed, voice laced with satisfaction. “That feel good?”

A slow, exhausted nod was all she could manage. As the haze of pleasure lifted, she became aware of everything at once—the damp strands of hair sticking to her nape, the tingling in her limbs, the lingering warmth radiating from her backside.

But nothing could pull her back to reality quite like his voice.

“Can you sit up for me, sweet girl?”

***

Water cascaded from the shower head in silken ribbons, a warm, soothing contrast against the cool tile. Steam curled in the air, thick and languid, blurring the edges of the room until it felt like they existed in their own private universe. The scent of eucalyptus clung to the mist, wrapping around them like an embrace.

Harry held Y/N close, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, the quiet strength of him anchoring her. Her head rested against his collarbone, the sound of his heartbeat a calming metronome against the storm that had been raging inside her for weeks.

His hands moved slowly over her damp skin, drawing soothing circles along her spine, his thumbs tracing the delicate ridges of her back. She shivered—not from the cold, but from the contrast of sensations: the warmth of the water, the cool air beyond it, the roughness of his calloused fingers against the softness of her flesh.

She tilted her head up, meeting his gaze through the water’s shimmering veil. Her lips were parted, her lashes heavy, surrender written in every line of her expression. Harry felt something deep and primal stir in his chest.

With a lingering kiss, he turned her around, his fingers threading through her hair as he worked the shampoo into a gentle lather. His touch was reverent, a contradiction of tenderness and strength, his large hands cradling her head with the kind of care that made her stomach flutter. She sighed softly, melting into the sensation as she rested against his muscled body, her small noises of contentment filling the air like music.

When the last suds had been rinsed away, Harry reached past her to shut off the water, the sudden absence of sound leaving them in an intimate hush. Without hesitation, he grabbed the towels he had set out earlier, wrapping her in one before she could feel the bite of the air. He took his time drying her off, the plush fabric gliding over her sensitive skin like a gentle breeze, coaxing a soft sigh from her lips. Then, with the same quiet devotion, he slipped one of his t-shirts over her head, the oversized fabric swallowing her smaller frame.

As Y/N moved through the final steps of her skincare routine, Harry retrieved a bottle of lotion from the cupboard across the room. He approached her with the grace of a shadow, gently tapping her on the bum.

“When you’re done, I want you to lay on the bed on your tummy. Ok?” His voice a smooth, honeyed command.

She finished up and did as she was told, sinking into the mattress, her head resting on her folded arms. Her damp hair spread across the silk pillow like a river of dark water, cool and smooth against the fabric.

The bed dipped beneath his weight, and she heard the soft sound of lotion being smoothed between his hands. A moment later, the hem of her shirt lifted, and his warm palms met the tender skin of her backside. Y/N sighed deeply, the coolness of the lotion a welcome relief to the heat lingering from earlier. His hands moved with slow, deliberate strokes, massaging away the sting, his fingers tracing the curves of her body with intimate familiarity.

The room was quiet, save for the rustle of sheets and the steady rhythm of their breathing. Y/N felt herself unraveling beneath his touch, sinking into the present moment, leaving behind the weight of the stress that had knotted itself into her muscles. He always knew how to bring her back—how to pull her from the depths of her mind and remind her that she didn't have to handle everything on her own.

When he was finished, he leaned down, brushing a stray lock of hair from her neck before pressing a gentle kiss to the delicate skin there.

“How do you feel?” His voice was a low murmur against her ear, thick with warmth and something deeper—something unspoken but understood.

Y/N swallowed, taking a moment to gather her words. “I—I feel good, Sir,” she admitted, her voice still laced with the remnants of pleasure and submission. “Still a little out of it… but good.” She paused for a moment, then continued, “I’m glad for the punishment. I really needed that.”

She shifted to sit up, and he caught her chin between his fingers, maneuvering her head to face him.

Harry’s lips curved into a soft smile, his thumb tracing slow, reassuring patterns along her cheek. “You did well tonight. You know that, right? M’proud of you.”

The weight of his words settled over her like a blanket—warm, protective, unwavering. She smiled softly into his touch.

A beat of silence stretched between them before he spoke again. “When you feel like things are spiraling, I need you to know you can come to me.”

Then, without waiting for a response, he leaned in and kissed her. It was slow and deliberate, filled with everything he didn’t need to say—everything he had already proven.

When she finally pulled away, her voice was softer, more certain. “I do know that. And I’m sorry I didn’t come to you sooner. It’s… a habit, shutting people out when I’m stressed. But regardless, you didn’t deserve that.”

Harry exhaled a quiet laugh, “Yes, I’m well aware of that habit of yours, which we’ll crack one day. But in the meantime, you can push all you want, sweetheart. Unfortunately for you, I’m not going anywhere.”

She giggled, letting him pull her into his chest. “On the contrary. Very fortunate for me,” she corrected, her voice tinged with affection.

He grinned, maneuvering the covers so she could slide beneath them. Reaching over, he switched off the lamp on his bedside table, casting the room into a velvety darkness.

As Y/N melted into him, the last of her tension slipping away, he pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head.

“Get some sleep. I love you.”

“I love you too,” she whispered against his skin, finally surrendering to the quiet lull of sleep’s embrace.

...

Ahhh! Kind of out there for my first post but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Hope you enjoyed!

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sushirrrry · 11 months ago

Text

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Uh, excuse me, Mr. Styles?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Shall we get to work then?"

__________________

"This coffee is fucking cold."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It wasn't just impressive; it was extraordinary.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Felicity, please meet me in my office."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm sorry–"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_______________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry's lip parted as he remembered the reservation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_______________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She lived for the hope of it all.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was inevitable, she thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until now, surely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Who?" She questions.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The necktie around her took his focus back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

___________

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm sorry."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

____________________

hiiiii!!

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

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

love u as always

- emily

2K notes · View notes

narrycherries · 2 months ago

Text

(1) how’s one to know..

harry is just an ass and she is just a stranger — series introduction, bit of angst (8.6k)

(2) an incandescent glow

She just wanted to have a fun night out, but Harry has a tendency to ruin things.. — angst and sadness filled (10.9k)

(3) putting roots in my dreamland

Despite wishing he didn’t exist, she had no choice but to be around him.. — short but necessary angst for the story (8.4k)

(4) and now I’m covered in you..

She can’t seem to keep herself out of trouble and it irritates him more than it should. — a scary situation creates a lot of conflicting thoughts for both characters.. angst (14.3k)

(5) magnificently cursed

She can’t seem to ignore him and he’s rather observant of her.. - angst, little dramatic incident (11.4k)

(6) clover blooms in the fields

She needs help and he just so happens to be the only one available.. - little angst, more fluff (tw: does mention surgical procedures) (12.3k)

(7) crescent moon, coast is clear

She was struggling to let go of her worrying thoughts, but he was determined to help her through it. — there’s some angst & fluff (15.2k)

(8) he’s gonna burn this house to the ground

He has added insult to injury and she gives him one chance to make it right. — bit of angst lots of fluff and dialogue (17.5k)

this series is loosely inspired by the song ivy by taylor swift

more pics // more pics (2) // more pics (3)

part 8 teaser post(with photos)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ playlist *ੈ✩‧₊˚

(just a few songs that inspired this series & what I listen to while writing it :: these are my music preferences so if you don’t like them.. don’t listen) •••slight spoilers so be aware/you can skip over this•••

ivy - taylor swift

lie to girls - sabrina carpenter

my boy only breaks his favorite toys - taylor swift

norman fucking rockwell- lana del rey

right now - one direction

souvenir - selena gomez

something in the way - nirvana

fine line - harry styles

guilty as sin - taylor swift

cinnamon girl - lana del rey

brain stew- greenday

the next best american record - lana del rey

dancing with our hands tied - taylor swift

lips of an angel - hinder

tonight - zayn

small talk - niall horan

iris - goo goo dolls

so it goes - taylor swift

stay over - tove lo

love is a wild thing - kacey musgraves

false god - taylor swift

little freak - harry styles

crimson and clover - joan jett (& the blackhearts)

I can fix him (no really I can) - taylor swift

get stoned - hinder

angel - kacey musgraves

there you are - zayn

nobody gets me - sza

alone - heart

cardigan - taylor swift

lover of mine - 5sos

mateo- tove lo

strong - one direction

624 notes · View notes

ijustmissyouraccenths · 1 month ago

Text

Hold My Hand

Where y/n is scared of flying and the stranger in the seat next to her offers some help.

Word Count: 1,993

Warnings: Planes, Anxiety

JFK was a whirlwind of noise and motion, a blur of tired travelers, rolling suitcases, and endless overhead announcements crackling through the speakers. Y/N tightened her grip on the handle of her suitcase, her pulse thrumming beneath her skin. She hated this part. Airports always made her anxious—too many moving parts, too many chances for something to go wrong. And flying? That was even worse.

She exhaled slowly, adjusting the strap of her bag as she inched forward in the check-in line. It was just a flight. Just a few hours in the air. And then she’d be in Italy, far away from everything she’d been trying to escape.

Her friend had insisted she come, practically begging her to book the ticket.

“You need this, love. Just get on the plane.”

Easier said than done.

She reached the counter, handed over her passport with slightly shaky fingers, and forced a polite smile as the agent processed her check-in. A few minutes later, she had her boarding pass in hand and one less thing to worry about. But the tightness in her chest didn’t ease.

A familiar, comforting scent drifted through the air—coffee. Warm, rich, slightly burnt in the way only airport coffee could be. She turned toward the kiosk tucked near the terminal entrance, weaving through the crowd, her suitcase rolling behind her.

A hot drink would help. Something to ground her.

After ordering, she wrapped her hands around the paper cup, letting the heat seep into her palms. She took a careful sip, the bitter taste settling her, just a little.

Y/N settled into a chair near her gate, her coffee resting on the seat beside her. The caffeine wasn’t doing much to settle her nerves, but at least the warmth in her hands gave her something to focus on. She sighed, setting her suitcase between her feet before digging through her bag, fingers fumbling past tangled headphones and crumpled receipts until she found what she was looking for, her medication.

She popped the cap off the small bottle of anti-nausea pills first, dry-swallowing one before reaching for her anxiety meds. Flying always made her feel sick, and the anxiety only made it worse. She wasn’t taking any chances today.

The terminal buzzed around her business travelers typing furiously on laptops, families wrangling restless children, couples leaning into quiet conversations. It was a world in motion, but Y/N felt stuck, waiting.

She glanced up at the departures board. Still time before boarding. She had no intention of rushing to get on the plane. She never did. The sooner she boarded, the longer she’d have to sit in that cramped space, feeling every bit of turbulence, every shift in altitude. Instead, she’d wait until the final group, boarding only when she absolutely had to.

She took another sip of her coffee, exhaling slowly. Just a few more minutes. Then she’d be in the air on her way to Italy.

Y/N pulled out her phone, her fingers hesitating over the screen before she finally typed out a message.

“At the airport, waiting to board.”

She paused, then added, “Trying not to freak out.”

The message sent, and she took another sip of her coffee, tapping her fingers against the cup while she waited for a response. It didn’t take long.

“You’re doing great. It’s going to be okay. Just think about how good it’ll feel when you land. I’ll be waiting for you!”

She let out a slow breath, some of the tightness in her chest easing. Her friend always knew what to say, always had a way of grounding her even from miles away.

“I hope so,” she typed back before locking her phone and setting it in her lap.

One step at a time.

The final boarding group was announced, and Y/N let out a quiet sigh before standing, gripping the handle of her suitcase. This was the part she hated most walking onto the plane, finding her seat, and forcing herself to settle in for the long flight ahead. She rolled her luggage behind her, moving through the jet bridge, the artificial air-conditioning doing little to cool the anxious heat creeping up her spine.

When she stepped onto the plane, she was met with the usual cramped rows and the hum of quiet conversations. It was full, every overhead bin seemingly packed to capacity, every seat occupied. She checked her boarding pass again, even though she already knew where she was going, middle of the plane, window seat.

As she made her way down the aisle, dodging stray elbows and outstretched legs, her stomach twisted. Long-haul flights were bad enough, but sitting next to a stranger for hours on end only made her more uneasy.

She finally reached her row and glanced at the seat beside hers, her breath catching for a moment.

A man sat there, his posture relaxed, one hand resting on his thigh while the other scrolled idly through his phone. Brown curls fell slightly over his forehead, and tattoos peeked out from beneath the sleeves of his sweater. He was dressed casually, a soft knit fabric over jeans but there was something familiar about him.

As soon as she stopped beside the row, the man looked up from his phone and, without hesitation, stood from his seat.

“Need help with that?” he asked, gesturing toward her carry-on.

Y/N hesitated for only a second before nodding. “Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks.”

He took the bag from her with ease, lifting it into the overhead compartment and securing it before stepping back, giving her space to settle in. As she reached for her seatbelt, he spoke again.

“Do you want the aisle seat instead?” His voice was calm, casual. “I don’t mind switching.”

She glanced at him, caught off guard by the offer.

“I just figured,” he continued, “if you prefer it, I’m happy to swap.”

Her fingers tightened around the armrest for a second before she finally admitted, “Flying makes me nervous. Maybe sitting in the aisle would be better.”

He nodded without hesitation. “Yeah, of course.”

Without another word, he stepped aside, letting her slide into the aisle seat before taking the window for himself. As she buckled in, she took a slow, steady breath.

At least now, if the anxiety became too much, she had an easy way out.

Once they were settled, he turned to her with an easy smile, offering his hand.

“I’m Harry,” he said.

Y/N already knew that. She had recognized him the second she saw him—his face was too familiar, whether from his days in One Direction or the countless photos of him that circulated online. But she didn’t acknowledge it. He was just another passenger on a plane, and she had no energy to make a big deal out of it.

She took his hand briefly, shaking it. “Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said, his voice warm, effortlessly charming.

She nodded, managing a small smile before turning her attention to the seatbelt in her lap, tightening it around her waist. The plane wasn’t even moving yet, but the nerves were already creeping in.

The overhead voice crackled through the cabin, announcing that the doors were now closed and the flight would be departing soon. Y/N’s stomach twisted. There was no turning back now.

She exhaled slowly and fidgeted with her fingers in her lap, rubbing her thumb over the edge of her nail. The familiar hum of the engines grew louder, and she could already feel her heart racing.

Needing a distraction, she reached into her bag and pulled out her book, flipping it open to where she had left off. She gripped it tightly, her knuckles pale as she focused on the words, trying to lose herself in the story.

From the corner of his eye, Harry noticed the way she took deep, measured breaths, the way her fingers tensed around the pages. He shifted slightly in his seat before turning toward her.

“That any good?” he asked, nodding toward the book in her hands.

Y/N blinked, her eyes darting to his. It took her a second to process his question.

“Oh,” she said, glancing down at the cover. “Yeah. It’s just a rom-com. Kind of cheesy, but in a good way.”

“Cheesy in a good way,” he repeated with a small smile. “That’s promising. What’s it about?”

Just as she opened her mouth to explain, the plane began to move, rolling slowly away from the gate. Her fingers clenched around the book a little tighter, her heartbeat quickening as she felt the shift beneath her.

She focused on Harry instead, forcing herself to speak, to explain the ridiculous but charming plot of the book. And as she did, as his interested expression encouraged her to keep talking, the plane turned onto the runway, speeding up for takeoff.

As the plane picked up speed, Y/N felt her words start to stumble, her thoughts tangling as she tried to explain the book’s plot. Her voice wavered, and she let out a small, frustrated sigh, gripping the armrest instead.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, shaking her head. “I’m just–God, I hate this part.”

Harry glanced at her hands, noticing how tightly she was clutching the seat. Without hesitation, he spoke, his voice calm and steady.

“This might be weird,” he said, tilting his head slightly, “but if you need to squeeze my hand, you can.”

Y/N looked at him, uncertain for a moment. He wasn’t making a big deal out of it, wasn’t looking at her with pity—just an easy, open offer.

She swallowed, hesitating for only a second before reaching out and gripping his hand. His skin was warm, his fingers steady as she squeezed, holding on as the plane lifted off the ground.

He didn’t flinch or pull away. Instead, he gave her hand a small, reassuring squeeze back, grounding her just enough to get through those first few seconds of flight.

Y/N kept her grip on Harry’s hand as the plane tilted upward, her stomach lurching with the ascent. She squeezed her eyes shut, inhaling deeply through her nose, counting the seconds until the worst of it was over.

Harry didn’t say anything, didn’t rush her or try to distract her with empty reassurances. He just let her hold on, his thumb brushing against the back of her hand in an absent, soothing motion.

After what felt like forever, the plane finally leveled out, the pressure in her chest easing slightly. She let out a long breath and slowly opened her eyes, realizing then just how tightly she had been holding his hand. Embarrassed, she quickly let go, pressing her palms against her lap.

“Sorry,” she muttered, shaking her head. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s alright,” Harry interrupted, offering a small, knowing smile. “Really. I don’t mind.”

Y/N exhaled, feeling her shoulders relax for the first time since she stepped onto the plane. She glanced out the window, where the world below was now nothing but clouds, soft and endless. The worst part was over.

She turned back to him, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Thanks for that. I just… I really hate flying.”

“Yeah, I kinda picked up on that,” he teased lightly. “But you did good.”

She huffed out a small laugh, finally allowing herself to relax into her seat. She picked up her book again, running her fingers over the edges of the pages, but before she could open it, Harry spoke again.

“So, tell me more about this ‘cheesy but in a good way’ book of yours.”

Y/N glanced at him, surprised, but his expression was genuine, his body still turned slightly toward her like he actually wanted to hear about it.

She hesitated for only a moment before finally cracking a small smile. “Alright. So, it’s about these two people who used to be best friends, but then they had this falling out and—”

And just like that, the flight didn’t seem quite as long anymore.

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unabashegirl · 5 months ago

Text

the cover | part 1

Y/N and Harry, lifelong best friends, pretend to be a couple for a family wedding weekend in Edinburgh. As they navigate the event, old feelings resurface, and what starts as an act turns into something real, leading them to confront their true emotions for one another.

Author's note: hello everyone! I hope you are doing great. I wanted to post The Cover on Tumblr BUT keep some EXCLUSIVENESS for my Patreon subscribers. So, I took some scenes out of the story while keep the plot intact. it is obviously going to be shorter here on Tumblr. However, the story still leads to the same thing. I hope you enjoy

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to all of the one shot (+8K) and exclusive scenes, various one shots and much more :)

word count: 1.8K

The soft hum of the evening surrounded them as they sat on Harry’s couch, the warmth of the candles filling the air. His house, though spacious, had an intimate feel, with low lighting casting cozy shadows around the room. Harry sat beside Y/N, half-turned toward her, reading a book. The way he tucked his legs beneath him and the casualness of his white t-shirt gave the moment a softness that made Y/N's thoughts wander.

Y/N tried to focus on the book in her hands, something about leadership, but the words blurred as she kept glancing at Harry. His usual confidence and public persona seemed far away, replaced by a quiet charm. She couldn’t help but think back to the way things used to be before his rise to stardom—just the two of them, as friends.

And that’s what made it so hard now. Despite the easy conversations and long history they shared, Y/N was always reminded of the one-sided feelings she’d harbored for years. Sitting next to him now, she could feel the pull of those feelings, threatening to unravel her carefully constructed walls.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Harry asked, breaking the silence. His voice was low, filled with the same warmth and curiosity he always had when talking to her. “You’ve been staring at that page for a while now.”

Y/N laughed lightly, closing the book. “Just thinking about family stuff,” she said, dodging the real reason behind her distraction.

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Family stuff?”

She sighed. “My cousin’s getting married soon, and they’re all pressuring me to bring a date.”

Harry leaned back, his expression softening. “You know you don’t have to do anything just to please them, right?”

“I know, but it’s hard when everyone expects you to show up with someone.” Y/N smiled weakly, shrugging. “It just makes me feel like I’m falling behind.”

For a moment, Harry just watched her, like he was considering something. Then, his voice cut through the silence again, casual but certain. “I’ll go with you.”

Y/N blinked, surprised. “What?”

He shrugged, a small smile on his lips. “I’ll be your date. that'll stop them from asking questions, right?”

Her heart skipped a beat. Harry being her date? Even just as a favor, the idea felt surreal. But his offer was sincere, and she could feel the tension easing from her shoulders at the thought of having him there with her.

“Are you sure?” she asked softly, trying to gauge if he really meant it.

“Of course,” he said with that familiar grin of his. “Who wouldn’t want to show up with me as their date?”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at his teasing, her anxiety slowly melting away. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. With Harry at her side, it might actually be… fun.

“He’s going with you?!” Maddie’s voice echoed through the apartment, laced with disbelief.

Y/N, sitting cross-legged on the floor of her bedroom, groaned and called back, “I know!”

A moment later, Maddie appeared in the doorway, eyes wide. “Harry Styles—your best friend—is going to this wedding as your date? I mean, what?!”

Y/N let out a breathy laugh, flopping back onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling. “Trust me, I’m still trying to process it.”

Maddie crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Okay, first of all—this wedding is a whole weekend, right?”

“Yeah,” Y/N muttered, sitting up and running a hand through her hair. “We’re leaving Friday and staying until Sunday. So… two full days of family, dinners, receptions, small talk.”

“And does Harry know it’s a full weekend?” Maddie asked, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N bit her lip. “Not exactly…”

Maddie’s eyes widened even further. “Y/N, you have to tell him! What if he backs out once he realizes it’s not just a one-night thing?”

Y/N sighed, already feeling the weight of it. “I’ll tell him tomorrow. I just… I hope he doesn’t change his mind.”

Maddie smiled knowingly. “Well, you’ll need to distract yourself with something else for now—like your outfits!” She grinned. “You have to look incredible.”

Y/N groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Maddie…”

The next day, Y/N stood outside Harry’s house, a small bouquet of flowers in hand. She smiled as she reached for the familiar key in her pocket—the one Harry had given her ages ago. She slid it into the lock, the soft click bringing her a sense of comfort. His place had always felt like a second home, sometimes even more than her own.

Walking inside, the familiar scent of fresh linen greeted her. She made her way to the kitchen and placed the flowers on the counter, searching for a vase. After arranging them, she admired the pop of color they brought to the space. It was something she liked to do whenever she visited—add a little warmth to the room.

“Harry?” she called out, already heading towards the hallway that led to his bedroom.

“Closet!” his voice echoed back, slightly muffled.

She stepped into his room, which looked as it always did—organized chaos. A mix of designer clothes and little pieces of Harry’s life were scattered around, but one thing stood out: his suitcase, open on the floor, already halfway packed.

He’s really going through with it, Y/N thought, excitement mixing with a flutter of nerves.

As she approached the closet, Harry emerged, fresh from the shower, casually drying his hair with a towel. His grin widened when he saw her. “Didn’t hear you come in.”

Y/N chuckled. “You’re already packing? You’re way ahead of me.”

“I figured I’d get a head start. I’ve got to be prepared for this weekend,” he teased, tossing the towel over his shoulder.

Y/N leaned against the doorway. “I haven’t even started yet. But you know, I might need help picking outfits. And I know you have opinions.”

Harry shot her a playful smirk. “You know I do.”

Despite the light banter, Y/N couldn’t shake the growing tension in her chest. She still hadn’t told him everything—the weekend wasn’t just a one-night affair. Clearing her throat, she said, “Harry, there’s something I forgot to mention about the wedding.”

His eyebrow raised, but his smile stayed. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“Well… it’s not just the ceremony. It’s kind of a whole weekend event.”

Harry stopped mid-motion, the towel draped over his shoulders as he turned to face her fully. “A whole weekend?”

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded, fidgeting slightly. “It’s in Edinburgh. There’s a dinner on Friday, the wedding on Saturday, and a brunch on Sunday. It’s like… a three-day thing.”

For a moment, Harry just stared at her, blinking. Then, with a chuckle, he said, “A full-on wedding, huh?”

Y/N let out a breath. “Yeah… I probably should’ve told you earlier. But I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

Harry shook his head, his grin widening. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. A weekend in Edinburgh with you? Sounds fun.”

Relief flooded through Y/N. “You’re sure? I mean, it’s a lot.”

“I’m sure,” he said, giving her a reassuring smile. “Besides, I think your family’s going to love me.” He winked, adding, “When do we leave?”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile, her nerves fading. He really was in this with her, and suddenly, the weekend didn’t seem so intimidating.

Y/N and Harry sat cross-legged on the floor of his living room, plates of Indian takeout spread across the coffee table. The familiar aroma of curry and naan filled the room, while How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days played on the TV in the background. They had seen the movie so many times, but it never got old. Harry always laughed at the same moments, and Y/N couldn’t help teasing him for knowing the lines better than she did.

As Y/N scooped up a bite of butter chicken with her naan, she noticed Harry looking at her with a mischievous grin. “What’s that look for?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

Harry leaned back against the couch, balancing his plate on his lap. “I was just thinking about the wedding.”

“Please don’t remind me,” Y/N groaned, shaking her head. “I’m still wrapping my head around the fact that you’re actually going.”

“Don’t worry, I’m still in,” Harry assured her, nudging her gently. “But I had a thought… Why don’t we drive to Edinburgh?”

Y/N blinked, lowering her fork. “Drive? From here to Edinburgh? That’s over eight hours.”

“Exactly!” Harry’s eyes lit up, like it was the best idea he’d ever had. “Think about it. If we drive, we’re in control. If things get awkward at the wedding, we’ll have a getaway car. No waiting for flights—we can just leave.”

Y/N gave him a skeptical look. “Planning an escape before we even get there?”

He shrugged, popping a piece of naan into his mouth. “It’s all about being prepared. Plus, think of the road trip! Snacks, music, random stops. Remember the last time we did a long drive?”

Y/N smiled at the memory. “Yeah, and you made us stop at every service station to try the food.”

Harry grinned even wider. “Exactly! Imagine all the snacks we could pack—crisps, chocolate, samosas. And the playlist—oh, the playlist! We’ll sing the whole way, windows down, no stress.”

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head. “You just want an excuse to sing loudly, don’t you?”

“Hey, I have great taste in road trip tunes,” he said, pretending to be offended. “And it would be fun! Eight hours, just us, no rush.”

She tilted her head, considering it. A carefree road trip with Harry did sound appealing, but the practical side of her had concerns. “Flying is faster. We’ll be there in two hours and won’t be exhausted when we arrive. We’ll need all the energy we can get for my family and the wedding.”

Harry pouted, leaning back against the couch. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

Y/N looked over at him, smiling at his enthusiasm. There was something irresistible about the way his eyes sparkled at the idea.

“You know what?” she said after a beat. “Let’s do it. Let’s drive.”

Harry’s face lit up, his eyes wide with excitement. “Really? You mean it?”

Y/N nodded, her smile growing. “Yeah, why not? It could be fun. And having the car might come in handy if we need an escape—or if we just want to explore a bit.”

Harry practically beamed. “I can’t wait”.

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PART 2

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sparkrls · 1 year ago

Text

girl uncle

MASTERLIST

Summary: in which Harry becomes an uncle and has a bad case of baby fever

Author’s Note: congratulations to Gemma, i’m so happy for her and the entire Styles family. if this sucks, it's because babies scare me and i tried to write a fic about baby fever... not my smartest move

Word Count: 1k

···

“Baby? You okay?” Y/N murmured, brushing the hair out of Harry’s face. His lower lip trembling as he stared at the rose-flushed baby.

Harry shook his head, the first tear trailing down his cheek. Y/N could never stand to see him weep. It made something inside of her shatter as he lost his composure.

Y/N wrapped her arm around his shoulder, pulling him in close. He leaned his head against her shoulder, tears trailing down his face and onto her shirt. His eyes never left the baby.

Gemma laid fast asleep in the bed behind them. In a little while, the nurse would come in to check in on the baby and Gemma. But for now, Harry and Y/N were left with a sleeping Gemma and a baby to gaze at.

Harry had been stressed out of his mind when Michal called to tell them Gemma’s water had broken and they were headed to the hospital. He had fussed over every detail, and Y/N had been the one to grab the car keys and usher him out of the house. She knew he wasn’t in any mental state to be driving.

The time in the waiting room had been spent by Y/N helping Michal with all the paperwork and Harry pacing in circles. She’d gotten him a tea and ordered him to sit down. As he sipped on his tea, his face still in an anxious frown, she’d pressed a notebook and pen in his hands. Y/N had cupped his face in her hands and instructed, “Everything on your mind, write it down. All the anxious overthinking- lay it down on the page.”

Harry had done so, filling a worrying amount of pages with all that was on his mind. She had skimmed it and found he kept repeating certain thoughts, a clear sign he was just in a spiral of overthinking.

Y/N sat down next to him and simply hugged him until the tension in his muscles dissipated and he relaxed- not completely, but enough to soothe her worries.

When they’d finally been let into the room to see an exhausted Gemma, grinning Michal and a fussy baby, Harry had been handed the baby to hold. He rocked her lightly in his arms, smiling down at her.

“You’re a girl uncle,” Y/N had said teasingly. Harry grinned nonetheless.

That had led them to this, a day after the currently unnamed baby was born. The sun had long set on the horizon, and dark flooded the streets with lamplights turned on.

“We’re adults now,” Harry whispered lowly, as to not rouse the sleeping figures in the room. He sniffled. “I can still remember being kids and climbing trees. How Gemma cleaned up my knee when I scraped it learning to ride a bike. And look at her now.”

A warmth spread in Y/N’s chest, somewhere between happiness and an indescribable satisfaction at knowing they’d made it this far. And a melancholic feeling thinking about how they used to worry about whether their parents would let them go out to the park with their friends or not. Now, they would soon become the parents themselves.

Harry sighed, and she wiped his tears away from his cheeks. Y/N placed a tender kiss on his forehead and said, “You’re an uncle now.”

Looking up at her as if she’d been the one to freckle the sky with stars, Harry said, “Uncle Harry. Has a ring to it, doesn’t it?”

A soft chuckle escaped Y/N’s lips. “Definitely.”

“Dad would sound even better,” Harry whispered, pressing himself close to her and nuzzling his nose against her neck. “Don’t you agree?”

Eyebrows raised in light surprise, Y/N asked, “You want to…?”

Harry nodded. “Wouldn’t it be nice?” He whispered, a small smile tugging at his lips. He had that soft look in his eye he always got whenever he talked about their future. “Maybe a ring on your finger before… and then a baby in your belly.”

“You’ve got baby fever,” Y/N groaned quietly, turning her head away from him. Her gaze landed on the baby again, wrapped in a light pink blanket. For a moment, she imagined that being her baby. And a rush of affection swelled in her chest, a pinch of fear tingling on her fingertips.

Fuck, maybe she had baby fever as well.

They certainly did look adorable, faces all scrunched up, skin a rosy pink and fingers all chubby.

“Is that a no?” Harry prompted quietly.

Y/N sighed as if she were exhausted by him. They both knew her every word was laced with affection, “How’d you go from crying ‘cause your sister’s a mom now to begging for a baby?”

“Marriage and a baby,” Harry said, matter-of-factly. “Get your facts straight.”

Holding back a laugh, Y/N said, “Begging for marriage and a baby.” She took one good look at the man beside her, with brown curls and green eyes that looked almost a forest green in this light. “I never could say no to you.”

“That’s a yes?” Harry asked hopefully, leaning in close.

Y/N rolled her eyes affectionately. "It means be patient. We'll see how things go." She gave him a playful glare. "But we are having a wedding before a baby. Got it, Styles?"

"Got it, baby,” Harry confirmed with a grin. He knew he was going to get what he wanted. Maybe more in the future, he would spend an obscene amount of money on a Tiffany engagement ring and a Vivienne Westwood wedding dress. But for now, those plans were stowed away in Harry’s mind. They would come to fruition eventually. It was just a matter of time.

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gurugirl · 8 months ago

Text

Assistance Needed | assistant!reader

based on this request (thank you anon! hope you enjoy!)

Summary: Harry finds himself in an awkward position when you walk in on him in his office just as he's in the middle of something quite improper.

Word Count: 3,053

Warning: smut (oral sex), inappropriate relationship, power imbalance (boss/assistant)

| main masterlist |

. . .

How could you not know the lacy edge of your bra was peeking out from your lovely white silk top? Eyeglasses pushed up on your head while you leaned over the table and held the pencil between your teeth as you pointed to the paragraph in the document that you felt didn’t belong.

Harry stared down at the contract as you pulled the pencil from your lips to speak, “This looks like it doesn’t belong here. I feel like it was accidentally copied from a different contract altogether but we need to remove it.”

He looked up at your pretty eyes, already on his, and stood with a curt nod, “Yes. I think you’re right, Y/n. Once that’s done, print out enough copies for all the partners and we’ll sign them before the end of the day.”

You smiled at him and he felt his face warm. That’s all it took. Your smile.

But that was a problem because he was your boss. He paid your salary. You worked your ass off and you were the best assistant he’d ever had. You were even catching mistakes his administrative assistants didn’t. Sometimes he felt like you knew him better than his mom did. But that didn’t mean he was allowed to pine after you the way he was.

After closing the door to his office when you walked out he sat in his cushy leather chair and ran his hands into his hair. He couldn’t keep this up. His imagination would get the best of him at times but it’d been too frequent as of late. But part of him wondered why you had started wearing the things you were suddenly.

When you first started on, just over a year ago you always dressed professionally but very conservatively. There was no hint of anything particularly sexy or flirty. So Harry had never really looked at you like he had more recently. He always thought you were cute and smart and he was often surprised by how well you listened.

But then it turned into something like a friendship. He would seek you out for advice or to just chat, maybe even vent when the mood was right. He’d text you randomly midweek in the evening, then eventually he’d find himself shooting you a text on a Saturday afternoon, then a Saturday evening. And one day, when he was thinking about you while he was grocery shopping he realized he didn’t just find you refreshing to be around. Nor was he just simply happy to see you and enjoyed your company. No. He liked you. Liked you, liked you.

It really all blew up in his face, though, when you walked into the office one morning a couple of months ago wearing this dress that had his heart stopping and his tongue sliding out of his mouth (yes, just like a cartoon). He felt like a creep. He already knew he was developing feelings for you on some level but when he got a glimpse of you in something slightly more revealing it was like he was 16 again. It was embarrassing when he had to hide the front of his pants because all it took for you to make him hard was to wear a high heel or a dress that was on the shorter side.

Or wearing a thin white silk shirt tucked into a well-fitted pencil skirt and the tiniest peek of lace.

And he decided to do something he’d never done in his life. It’d be fast. No one would ever know and Harry could talk to you with a clear head and it would keep his boner at bay, at least until he left the office.

Scooting in closer to his desk he unzipped his pants and opened up his drawer to pull out tissues before spitting into his palm and smoothing it down his shaft. The relief was instant. He was swollen and already throbbing in his hand, which is why he knew it’d be fast. He could take his time later on at home, but in that moment, he needed to get off before you walked back into his office with the updated documents.

His breaths got deeper as he dropped his mouth open and closed his eyes and thought about your laugh and the curve of your bottom, your lips…

Pumping himself faster he laid one hand flat on his desk as he softly grunted the closer he got to this end. Another glob of saliva over himself made the glide of his big palm even better and he sighed when he felt his balls tighten and imagined your pretty lips wrapped around him, big, soft eyes looking up at him, the front of your shirt fully unbuttoned so he could get a proper look at the pretty bra he knew you were wearing underneath.

He was almost there when he heard a single knock at his door before it opened. You walked in with a folder and a smile on your face before closing the door behind you.

“I printed out copies for everyone. Michelle confirmed that the paragraph was transferred over from the Cota documents.”

Harry scooted himself into the desk and tried to catch his breath and act normal, hoping you wouldn’t see what he was doing or notice anything was off but he’d been right at the edge and his tip was already leaking as you laid the papers down on his desk. So far, it seemed as though you had no idea.

“Everything okay, Mr. Styles?” You suddenly paused and looked at his face. He seemed on edge.

“Yes. Fine. Thank you. I’ll sign these in a few minutes. Just, uh finishing something here.”

You squinted at him and noticed how flushed he was. How wide his pupils were. How dark his pink lips were. And his erratic behavior was a little odd.

“Are you sure? Is there something I can help you with?”

He looked up at you from his spot in his cushy chair and noticed the flirty grin on your face (was it flirty or was he just losing his mind?). The edge of your mouth quirked up as you slid your gaze downward to the space where the bottom half of his torso was just hidden underneath his desk.

“I don’t think that’s…” he inhaled, trying to calm his ragged breaths and will his erection away.

But instead of you stepping back and heading to his door to leave you cocked your head and sauntered to the side of his desk as if you already knew what he’d been doing and were determined to catch him in the act.

See, you’d been aware of his growing interest in you. And when the texts he’d send you on the weekends turned into flirtatious banter well into the evenings you decided to test out your theory. The first time you wore a dress that was just slightly shorter and tighter than normal with high heels that showed off your legs you realized he was checking you out.

So you did it again and again until you were positive it wasn’t just in your head. He was attracted to you. And it was so wrong of you to feed into it the way you did but it was hard not to enjoy the attention because Harry Styles was quite the specimen. Handsome and tall and witty… he was sexy, you’d always thought so.

And it was quite bold of you to assume anything but that day, you were feeling bold. Everything had been working for you since you woke up. Your outfit was banging (if you did say so yourself), your lipstick was staying put, you’d gotten the perfect amount of sleep, and your coffee order had been exactly to your preference. But what had you feeling extra confident was the double take Harry did when you stepped into his office that morning with his coffee.

“Mr. Styles,” you placed your hand on the edge of his desk and leaned down closer, “Tell me what you need.”

He blinked in surprise and swallowed, “I… what?”

Sliding your hand closer to the edge of the desk where he was you bit your lip as your shirt draped open slightly and you saw his pupils drag over your lacy bra.

You looked down at your cleavage and back up at him, “What? Do you like it?”

You watched him swallow again, a thick lump bobbing in his throat, “Do I like it?” He furrowed his brow and looked from your bra to your eyes, “It’s pretty.”

A grin took over your expression as you looked back down at your shirt, “Want to see more? I don’t mind.”

“I can’t. I’m…” he inhaled a shaky breath and looked down at his lap before pinning his eyes back to yours, “I’m your boss. This is inappropriate.”

You shrugged and pushed yourself back up, “I understand,” and turned to walk out. If he didn’t want to take it further you’d certainly not push it. But you knew he was up to something under his desk and you had a feeling what it was.

“Y/n wait a moment, please.”

You looked back at him and placed your arms over your chest with a soft smile, waiting for him to continue.

“Are you serious that you don’t mind?”

Shaking your head you released your arms, letting them fall to your sides, “I mean… this is embarrassing but I sort of wore this on purpose. Thought you might like it. So if you wanted to see more, well it’s for you anyway.”

“For me…” he repeated your words quietly as he considered his next steps.

“Yes. I’ve been dressing for you. I know I shouldn’t because, like you said, you’re my boss but… I don’t know.”

“I am your boss. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t been thinking about you in ways I shouldn’t be.”

“Like you were doing just before I walked in?”

His jaw clenched and he looked back down at his lap with a nod before turning his gaze back to yours, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m not. I think about you too, you know.”

“Probably not like this.”

“Like what? Were you… Mr. Styles, were you touching yourself under your desk?”

He was like a deer caught in headlights. Eyes wide and scanning as he shifted uncomfortably, “I was. I apologize, I…”

Stepping forward you shook your head, “Don’t apologize. When I asked you if you needed something I hoped you’d let me, you know…” you breathed out a laugh and shrugged.

“You wanted to… help me? Like…” his brows scrunched together as if he couldn’t believe where the conversation was headed.

“Yes. If you wanted. We can pretend nothing happened and I’ll leave right now but I would love to– assist.”

He swallowed again, the gulp sounding in the quiet of his office, “Fuck,” he cursed and looked down at his length. He felt like such a pervert but here you were offering your assistance. When he looked back up at you, you’d already made your way back to his desk, eyes wide and hopeful.

“I can’t ask you to do that, Y/n. I don’t want to take advantage of you in that way.”

“You wouldn’t be taking advantage of me. If anything I’d be taking advantage of you. I’ve been hoping it’d come to this and that you’d need me to help you. Whatever you want. My hand, my mouth…”

Harry couldn’t believe his ears. His pretty assistant was standing there waiting for the word. You wanted it. He knew it would be a big mistake but he nodded despite his better judgment, “Okay. I’m already hard and I was pretty close when you walked in so it won’t take long. I’m not gonna make you use your mouth but if you wanted–“

“I would like to use my mouth if you’re okay with it,” you placed your glasses down and began to round the desk to be closer to him when he moved his chair back and you saw it. Ruddy tip, thick from root to crown, precum pearled at his slit and slowly dripping down the impressive length. It looked heavy. His cock was almost as gorgeous as he was.

“You poor thing,” you knelt down next to his chair and slid your hands up his thighs, “I want to make you feel good, Mr. Styles. Is it okay if I suck you off or would you rather me just use my hand?”

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back into his chair, “Fuck… fuck…” his cock twitched as you moved in, perching yourself between his thighs and waiting for his answer.

“If you want you can use your mouth. It’s up to you. I’m not in the position to be picky really, am I?” He laughed his green eyes on yours again.

You smiled back at him and let your nails scrape over the material of his pants before you allowed yourself the indulgence of wrapping your palm around him and he hissed, his head falling into the back of the chair again, but this time he kept his eyes opened as he watched you.

You licked your lips and smeared his precome down his shaft before fixing yourself on your knees and spitting over his head, “You can come in my mouth too,” you added before dipping down and tonguing at his slit for a taste of what was to come. He smelled clean and neutral. The precome was only slightly salty and bitter.

But the moment you took him in your mouth, lips stretching over his crown he gurgled a moan and placed his palm on the back of your head.

Smooth strokes of your mouth up and down, your tongue cradling the underside of his cock as you sucked and hollowed your cheeks. He was quite girthy and long. You clenched your thighs as you took him deeper, wondering what he’d feel like tucked into your cunt, pressing through your already clenching, slick walls.

“Oh fuck… Y/n… shit…” he let curses fall from his mouth as you lightly gagged around him, your drool starting to make a bit of a mess on his pants, “Fuck me… such a good girl. Oh my god…”

He was delirious. It was just what you wanted; to have him mumbling nonsense and praise and to have him shivering… soon he’d be pouring into your throat.

You bobbed over him, his chair squeaking as he tensed his thighs to keep the bottom from swiveling and you felt pressure on your head as he instinctually attempted to keep you in place with his hand. Your sinuses burned as he rutted up into your mouth, a gagged moan coming from the back of your throat as he throbbed and fucked his tip further back, “My god, Y/n… holy shit, such a good fucking assistant, aren’t you? Gonna take my come down your throat? Yeah?”

You moaned and let your blurry eyes slide up to his face and he groaned when he made eye contact with you. It was dirty and sexy, and completely improper for him to be balls-deep in his assistant's mouth. But fuck it was pretty. You were pretty but with your lips wrapped around him, drool slipping from your mouth and down your chin, and watery eyes blinking up at him, the scene was lewd.

He pulled you up so you could gasp for air, strings of saliva connected to his cock and your lips as you heaved in a breath and he wrapped his palm around your neck and pulled you in, his lips pressing against yours.

You were already slick in your panties but now this was making you dizzy. You moaned and pumped his cock slowly before he whispered against your lips, “You okay still?”

“Yes. So good. Let me finish you off.”

So he released your neck and you immediately encased his cock with your warm mouth again, sucking and bobbing and moaning wetly until he was quivering and thrusting his hips, hand pressed over your head once again as he began to pump hot, sticky cum into your mouth. You gulped him down and curved your tongue along his length as he let out a hoarse groan.

It was sloppy. You’d drooled a lot and you were sure your mascara was running down your cheeks, but you didn’t care. You’d risk being a bit of a mess if you could have him like this. You’d take what you could get of your handsome boss.

Harry moved his hand away from your head and you swallowed the last of him down as you pulled up, letting your tongue lick any missed cum, suckling at his tip before sitting back and looking up at him with a smile.

He was breathing hard as he reached for your face, “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” you laughed softly and pushed yourself to stand. “Think I need to clean up a little before I step out of here.”

Harry tucked himself back into his pants and laughed, “A little. I like the raccoon look, though.”

You opened up the cabinet next to his desk, the door had a mirror on the inside as you dapped tissues at your eyes, “You only like it because of what it represents,” you grinned. “Anyone else would be confused and worried about me if they saw me like this.”

Harry watched as you cleaned up and noticed you kept squeezing your thighs together, “What about you, Y/n? Need anything?”

You huffed a laugh, still feeling flustered and on the edge of crazy for doing what you just did, “Nothing I can’t take care of myself. Besides, there’s no time right now. You’ve got a conference call in a few minutes and I need to run these documents to the other guys before they leave.”

He stood up, following you to the door and stopping you before you could step out, “Will you come find me before you leave today?”

You bit your lip and nodded, “I always do, don’t I?”

Harry pushed a laugh out through his nose and nodded, “You’re right. You do. See you in a while then?”

You opened the door and smiled at him, “Of course, Mr. Styles.”

. . .

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finelinefae · 3 months ago

Text

friends [ceo!h x shy!reader]

synopsis: bambi meets harry's best friends.

word count: 8.8k

contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, fluff, age gap (9 years), drunk harry, shy reader, boyfriend!h

this is part 3 of Bambi, read part 2 here

. . .

Y/N was slowly but surely finding her rhythm at Pleasing. Thanks to Harry’s advice on making the most of each day (advice he apparently wrote a book about—though when Lindsey mentioned it, Harry had quickly shushed her and changed the subject), she had developed a solid morning and evening routine.

Her workdays at Pleasing fell on the busiest days of Harry’s schedule, which meant she was there three times a week. Those mornings began promptly at 7 a.m., with her clothes already laid out from the night before. After waking, she’d prepare breakfast for herself and her brothers, speaking to Harry on the phone as they went about their respective routines in separate homes. Once breakfast was done, she’d brush her teeth, do her makeup, and style her hair. By the time the school bus arrived to whisk her brothers away, her car would be rounding the corner to take her into the city.

Despite her hectic schedule, Y/N was managing to juggle her studies—though she couldn’t ignore that they were beginning to take a backseat. Lately, she’d found herself questioning whether she even wanted to continue her course. But with life moving at such a whirlwind pace, the thought of making a definitive decision felt overwhelming. For now, it was easier to just focus on the day-to-day.

To her surprise, Y/N was actually enjoying her job—something she’d never expected. She’d never been a fan of “adulting”; being forced to grow up quickly didn’t mean she had to like it. Paying bills, going to work, and worrying about the future had always felt like too much. But having a steady job offered her a rare sense of stability—one she appreciated more than she wanted to admit. It kept food on the table, gave her some consistency, and most importantly, brought her closer to Harry.

Keeping their relationship a secret, however, was proving to be a challenge. Surprisingly, Y/N was the more professional of the two, maintaining her composure in the workplace. She kept her hands to herself and avoided lingering glances, even when they were in the same room. Harry, on the other hand, wasn’t quite as disciplined. He had a knack for initiating little interactions that straddled the line of propriety—always claiming they were “accidents.”

Like the time he held her hand just a second too long. Or the time he “accidentally” kissed her in the elevator right as the doors were opening. Then there was the incident during a meeting when, as she served tea, he tugged on the hem of her dress—apparently needing a refill.

Y/N couldn’t help but adore how infatuated he was, but she was determined to keep things professional. The last thing she wanted was for her coworkers to think she had an unfair advantage because of her relationship. Still, Harry’s innocent looks and playfulness made it hard to stay mad at him for long.

“I need to ask you something,” Harry said from his desk.

It was Wednesday evening and everyone had gone home. Harry had needed to catch up on some work so Y/N stayed behind after some convincing with the proposition he would drop her home afterwards. Y/N was sitting on the chair opposite, her notebook open and laptop screen. Her laptop was on its last legs, taking forever to load and lagging every five seconds but she could never afford a new one and having one was better than nothing.

“What’s wrong?” She looked up, wearing her glasses and face framed by wispy bits of loose hair that had escaped her messy bun.

Harry’s face brightened when she looked up at him. “C’mere, Bambi. Too far away.” He pushed himself away from his desk and gestured to his lap.

Y/N smiled and walked around the desk to sit in his lap. She straddled herself across his lap and wrapped both her arms around his neck, “Y’ smell good,” He murmurs, smelling her gingerbread cookie perfume even though it was Autumn, she was already excited for her favourite day of the year.

“What did you want to ask?” She pouted.

As if remembering he bought her over for a purpose, he continued, “This weekend, y’know you’re coming to stay the night?”

How could she forget? It was all she had been thinking about since he asked her. She had even bought brand new pyjamas with the remaining paycheck from her old job because her usual ones were worn and not as pretty. She had never been to a sleepover before let alone one with a man. She was’t sure what to expect but had seen movies where girls would sleepover and they’d paint each others nails and eat ice cream. She knew that wouldn’t be the case with Harry but she had made a list of other things they could do together that he’d enjoy too.

“I know,” Y/N nodded, brows furrowed as she waited for him to continue. Part of her couldn’t help but worry. Did he not want her to sleep over anymore?

"Some of my friends are having a dinner get together type thing," Harry said, his tone casual but hopeful. "I haven’t said I’ll go yet because I knew you were coming over, but I wanted to ask if you’d like to come with me?"

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. "To the dinner party? With you?"

Harry smiled, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Yeah, with me. Who else?"

She blinked, processing his words. "I’d be meeting your friends?" she asked cautiously. "Are you sure about that?"

"Why wouldn’t I be sure?" he replied, his brow lifting slightly.

"I don’t know, I just..." she trailed off, suddenly unsure of how to explain the nervous flutter in her chest.

"Ah, there y’go, Bambi," Harry smirked, leaning in just enough to make her cheeks burn. "Getting all flustered."

"I’m not flustered!" she protested, though the warmth in her face betrayed her.

Harry chuckled, his gaze warm and steady as it met hers. "It makes me happy, you know—thinking about introducing you to my friends. They were excited when I mentioned you."

"They were?" Y/N asked, her brows lifting in surprise.

"Mhm," he murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. "They know it’s rare for me to bring someone I’m dating into the mix this early on." He leaned in, nuzzling against her neck and pressing a soft kiss to her skin. "So, will you come? We can head back to mine after."

She hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Okay... but I don’t know if I have anything to wear."

Harry smirked, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Y’know I can sort that," he teased.

Y/N’s cheeks flushed instantly, and she bit back a shy smile as his confidence and charm worked their usual magic.

. . .

Y/N glanced down at her suitcase, biting her lip. Did I overpack for one night? Probably. She always did.

Growing up, money had been tight, but once Y/N started earning her own at sixteen, she’d developed a habit of indulging herself. Not extravagantly—there were no designer handbags or flashy purchases—but enough to feel like she was treating herself after the grind of a day. Skincare, makeup, clothes—her modest earnings often vanished in the blink of an eye.

Fashion was her weakness. Her clothing rack groaned under the weight of her ever-expanding wardrobe, frequently collapsing as if protesting her relentless shopping habit. Packing for this overnight stay at Harry’s had been no exception. She’d started with a backpack, then upgraded to a duffle bag, only to realize that wouldn’t fit everything she might need. Now, her suitcase sat by the stairs, practically mocking her indecision.

“Whoa.” Sammy’s voice broke her thoughts as he sauntered into her room, a chocolate bar in hand. “Are you moving in?”

“No,” Y/N huffed, hands on her hips. “I just want to be prepared.”

Sammy raised an eyebrow. “You know, he could just stay here instead.”

Y/N stilled. The boy’s first night without her had everyone feeling uneasy, and she knew Sammy wasn’t looking forward to it. His gaze was guarded, but she could see the vulnerability underneath.

“It’ll be fine,” she reassured, stepping closer. “It’s just one night. If you really hate it, we’ll—”

“You’ll what?” he interrupted, his voice breaking slightly. “There’s going to be a day when you move out. And leave me. With Mom. Or... without her.”

The words hit harder than he intended. Y/N swallowed the lump forming in her throat, reaching out to him. She saw the sadness etched in his eyes, a reflection of her own fears. “Wherever I go, you go,” she whispered firmly.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Sammy leaned into her, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug. Y/N held him close, closing her eyes for a moment before pulling away.

The sound of a knock at the front door jolted her. She glanced at the clock, muttering a quick, “That’s Harry,” as she rushed downstairs. She wanted to intercept him before Archie could get started—her little brother’s chatter had a way of turning quick visits into extended stays.

Yanking the door open, she froze. Harry stood there, a beaming smile lighting up his face despite the chill in the air. He wore a puffer jacket and shorts, his casual confidence making her heart skip.

“Hi, Harry,” she greeted, cheeks tinged pink, though she wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or his presence. Without thinking, she leapt into his arms, her sock-clad feet barely touching the doorstep.

“Hi, Bambi,” he chuckled, steadying her as his arms closed around her. “Y’ready to go?”

“Mhm.” She pulled back, slipping on her shoes. “Let me say goodbye to the boys.”

Harry’s gaze shifted behind her, landing on the suitcase by the stairs. A laugh bubbled from him. “Are you planning on moving in?”

Y/N furrowed her brows, following his line of sight. When realization dawned, she flushed. “Oh, that. I, uh... didn’t know what I’d need.”

His grin softened as he stepped closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “S’alright, Bambi,” he murmured. “M’just excited to have you over.”

She smiled, her heart swelling as he leaned in for another kiss. Then, without missing a beat, he grabbed her suitcase and carried it effortlessly to the car.

After she had bid goodbye to her brother’s and promised them some much needed one on one time with them once she came back from Harry’s house, Y/N took a deep breath and mentally prepared herself for the next twenty four hours.

. . .

In the car to Harry’s apartment, Y/N sat in the passenger seat with one hand intertwined with Harry’s whilst he drove with his other. The radio played through the car speakers, avoiding complete silence on the journey. The dulcit tones of Marvin Gaye playing throughout.

“Y’ hands are freezing,” Harry said. Y/N instinctively tried to pull away as though her hand being cold was a bad thing but Harry clung tighter, raising both their hands and kissing her knuckles before blowing his warm breath over her hand. “Do you need me to up the heater?”

Y/N shook her head, “No it’s okay, my hands get cold when I’m nervous.” She confessed.

Harry frowned, “Nervous? Are you okay?”

Y/N cringed, “M a little worried about meeting your friends. What if they don’t like me?”

Harry gave her a comforting smile, “Bambi, they’re so excited to meet you. You have nothing to worry about. They’ve met other girls I’ve dated and trust me when I say you’re a walking angel in comparison to them.”

“H-Have you dated a lot of other girls?” Y/N felt awkward bringing it up but her curiosity was getting the better of her. Harry had only mentioned briefly of the other women he had dated. Of course he had dated other women, he was a successful, handsome millionaire with a fashion company. It would be pointless trying to deny it.

Harry thought for a moment like he was trying to think carefully about his response, “I’ll be honest, I used to date a lot of women when I first started making money. I wasn’t very good when I started getting attention from the press. I drank a lot and spent money on buying out nightclubs and bars for the night.”

Y/N was shocked. She tried to picture her Harry being the version of himself he spoke about. “But my company was no where near as successful as it is now so even though I was spending a lot, I was losing a lot too. I nearly went bankrupt at one point which really gave me a kick up the ass. My sister, she’s an accountant back home in England, she came to visit and helped me get my act together.”

“Oh wow,” Y/N didn’t really know what else to say. She couldn’t seem to envision her sweet, soft and wholesome Harry being a party animal and spening nights in bars for days on end.

“Did that put you off?” Y/N immediately shook her head.

“Of course not, we’ve all got things we’re not proud of.” Y/N replied.

Harry smiled, “What about you? Any psycho ex-boyfriends I need to worry about?”

Y/N laughed, “No lucky for you, I don’t think a single guy has ever taken interest in me.”

“I highly doubt that Bambi but you’re right, I am very lucky.” Harry flashed a cheeky grin, turning the wheel around the corner and stopped outside the tallest building she had ever seen that looked as though it was completely made of glass.

Y/N’s was unable to say anything when her eyes gazed up at the towering stack of apartments. “You live in this building?” Y/N couldn’t take her eyes off, her neck permanently craned to look up. She was pretty sure the hjgihest point of the building resided in the clouds.

Harry said nothing, parking his car in the private parking spot. He went to the back to grab her suitcase, Y/N stepping out of the car and walking around to meet him.

“C’mon Bambi,” Harry chuckled at her awe-struck expression.

They walked hand in hand through the lobby which looked as glamorous as you’d expect. Harry gave a nod to the security at the door as they went past and headed towards the elevator. Y/N’s eyes widened when his finger pressed the button for the top floor.

The doors to the elevator opened and Y/N thought she might actually pass out.

She stepped into Harry’s penthouse, her breath catching as her gaze swept over the space. The floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city skyline, all the people and cars down below looked like ants. The open layout was both elegant and inviting, with warm ambient lighting casting a golden glow over the neutral-toned furniture and rich wooden floors.

“Wow,” she whispered, taking a hesitant step further inside. The plush cream sofa, the sleek coffee table stacked with books, and the faint scent of vanilla in the air all felt so Harry—effortlessly stylish and welcoming.

Harry chuckled behind her, setting her suitcase by the door. “You like it?”

“Like it?” she breathed, turning to face him with wide eyes. “Harry, this is... incredible.”

He smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. “M’glad you think so. Wanted it to feel comfy, y’know? Somewhere I could actually relax.”

Y/N nodded, her eyes drifting back to the view. “Sometimes I forget how rich you are.”

Harry chuckles from behind her, “I’m actually very glad to hear that.”

She walked over to the windows, pressing her hands gently against the glass as she looked out at the city sprawling beneath them. For a moment, it felt like they were floating above it all, separate from the noise and chaos of the world below.

Harry joined her, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. “S’better with you here,” he murmured, his voice soft.

Y/N’s heart thudded in her chest as she leant into him. Harry kissed her shoulder, turning her round to face him. He smiled when her eyes met his, “We have some time before we need to get ready, do you want to go unpack?”

“Oh of course, am I sleeping on the couch?” Harry furrowed his brows before bursting out laughing, water almost fell from his eyes. Y/N frowned, confused at his reaction.

“You don’t want to sleep in my room Bambi? With me?” Y/N’s cheek scorched red but Harry just continued to laugh, “I mean I’m happy to sleep on the couch and let you sleep in my room if that’s what would make you comfortable.”

“No, it’s okay! I was just messing around,” She was all flustered. The idea of sleeping in Harry’s bed with him hadn’t crossed her mind like it maybe should have.

“Are you sure? Y’ know I wouldn’t do anything to make you uncomfortable.” Y/N’s shoulders sunk at his sincere concern, she stood on her toes and kissed his lips. This time it was his turn to be surprised since it was rare for her to be the first to initiate a kiss between them.

“I know,” She smiled, “I want to sleep in your room… with you.”

Harry smiled, “Good. Let me give you a tour first.”

Harry led Y/N back toward the kitchen, still holding her hand as they strolled through the open-concept living area. “First stop: the kitchen,” he said, motioning grandly as they stepped into the sleek, modern space.

Y/N’s eyes widened as she took in the marble countertops, state-of-the-art appliances, and a large island that looked like it had been plucked from a home design magazine. A trio of pendant lights hung above, casting a warm glow over the pristine surfaces.

“Wow,” she breathed, running her fingers along the smooth countertop. “This is amazing. Do you even use it?”

Harry grinned, leaning casually against the island. “I use it for takeout. Does that count?”

She laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t know how anyone could resist cooking in here.”

“I can resist pretty easily, love,” he said with a smirk. “But if you ever fancy cooking together, I’m happy to assist. I’m great at stirring things and, uh… taste-testing.”

“Of course you are, no wonder you own a restaurant.” Y/N teased, giving him a playful nudge.

Harry chuckled, then nodded toward a door off to the side. “Alright, next stop: my office.”

He guided her through the door and into a smaller, cosier room that contrasted with the open, airy feel of the rest of the penthouse. The office was lined with dark wood shelves filled with books, a few framed photos, and scattered trinkets. A large desk sat in front of another set of floor-to-ceiling windows, the view just as stunning as the one in the living room.

“This is where I get most of my work done,” he said, walking over to the desk and leaning on it. “Or where I try to, anyway. Sometimes I just sit here and stare out at the city.”

Y/N wandered over to the shelves, her fingers lightly brushing the spines of the books. “It’s so… you,” she said softly, glancing at the little details—a framed photo of him with his family, a guitar pick sitting on a stack of papers, and a candle that smelled faintly of cedar.

He raised an eyebrow. “You mean messy?”

“No,” she said, laughing. “I mean it’s thoughtful. Personal.”

Harry’s smile softened, and he reached out to take her hand again. “Alright, enough of the boring office. Time to show you the best room in the house.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as he led her back down the hallway to his bedroom. When he pushed open the door, her breath hitched.

The bedroom was even more stunning than she’d imagined. The centerpiece was a massive bed with crisp white linens that looked impossibly soft, surrounded by sleek, minimal furniture. The far wall was made entirely of glass, offering an unobstructed view of the glittering city below. Heavy curtains were drawn to the sides, framing the view like a painting.

Harry watched her take it all in, a small smile tugging at his lips. “So? What do you think?”

“It’s… incredible,” Y/N whispered, stepping into the room. She walked over to the windows, pressing her hands against the glass as she gazed out at the city. “I don’t think I’d ever sleep. I’d just stay up staring at this view.”

“Well, lucky for you,” Harry said, coming up behind her and resting his hands gently on her shoulders, “the bed is comfortable enough to make you forget about the view.”

She turned to look at him, her cheeks warming. “I don’t know if that’s possible.”

Harry grinned, his dimples on full display. “Challenge accepted, Bambi.”

He took her hand and led her to the bed, sitting down beside her. The mattress really did feel like a cloud as she sank into it.

“I was serious earlier,” Harry said, his tone softer now. “You can sleep wherever you want—the bed, the couch, the office chair if you’re feeling adventurous. I just want you to be comfortable.”

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling at his thoughtfulness. “I already told you, Harry. I want to sleep here. With you.”

His eyes lit up at her words, and he leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead. “Good. Because I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want that too.”

Harry stood up, “I’ll leave you to unpack. I’ve just go to make a few calls but there’s an ensuite bathroom you can use to freshen up.”

After Harry brought her suitcase to the bedroom, he left her to unpack. Y/N unzipped it and pulled out her washbag, heading into the ensuite bathroom.

The bathroom was stunning—a walk-in shower with dark tiles and jets built into the walls. She stepped to the sink, admiring the clean lines of the vanity, and placed her washbag carefully on the counter. She couldn’t help but smile when she noticed all of Harry’s skincare neatly organized in a cute little spinning container—it was such a contrast to her own chaotic setup. But then her eyes landed on the glass by the sink, where his toothbrush rested.

Beside it was a pink toothbrush.

Her heart softened at the sight, a warm flutter spreading through her chest. There was something about that simple detail that made her feel all warm and gooey inside. She’d never believed she would find someone she’d want to spend so much time with but here she was staying the night with Harry and about to meet his friends.

Y/N walked into the living room, where Harry was already sitting on the couch with his laptop perched on her lap. He smiled when he saw her, and then his gaze fell to the object she was holding. “Is that Monopoly?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N nodded, her grin widening. “Yeah, it’s the original version. I asked my brothers if I could bring it with me since we've had this set forever, and they would absolutely murder me if I lost any pieces. We have to be able to play it at Christmas."

The corner of Harry’s lips quirked in amusement. “Hmm, may I ask why you decided to bring Monopoly with you today?”

Y/N paused, clearly puzzled. “Isn’t that what people do at sleepovers? Play games?”

Harry’s grin spread wider. As she stepped closer, he reached out, pulling her toward him. She ended up collapsing onto his chest with a soft laugh.

“Oh, Bambi,” he murmured, showering her face with quick kisses. His lips tickled her skin, making her giggle uncontrollably. “You’re the most precious girl I’ve ever known, you know that?”

She smiled up at him, her cheeks flushed. “Does that mean you want to play?”

Harry gave a dramatic sigh, still grinning. “Of course! Are you kidding me? I love this game.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her voice playful. “Well, be prepared. I’m not one to brag, but I’m pretty good at it.”

His eyes lit up with challenge. “Oh, Bambi’s competitive, I see.”

A spark flickered in her eyes as she leaned in slightly, “Just a little.”

. . .

Harry loved discovering the many layers of his Bambi. To the outside world, she was shy and quiet, but to him, she was a multi-faceted woman, full of surprises he was peeling back one by one. Yet this afternoon might have revealed his favorite side of her yet.

Y/N’s eyes sparkled with excitement and mischief as she declared her victory in Monopoly—long before the game had officially ended. Harry had debated whether to let her win, as any gentleman might, but it turned out he didn’t need to. She was fiercely competitive and had wiped the floor with him in just thirty minutes.

If time had allowed, Harry would’ve played another round or concocted a new game just to watch her face light up with that same playful energy. The afternoon spent with her, laughing over a simple board game, had him envisioning Christmas mornings and holiday traditions for years to come. It was silly, perhaps, to think so far ahead so early in their relationship, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t picture a future without Bambi in it.

Still, as the game wrapped up, he could see her nerves creep back in. The mention of preparing to meet his friends made her retreat into herself, her earlier exuberance melting into quiet apprehension. Despite his reassurances, Harry knew she’d wrestle with her anxiety until the dinner was behind them.

His friends, on the other hand, were eager to meet her. Their group chat had been buzzing with excitement about “the girl who finally tied him down.” Since Harry’s family was back in England, his friends were the closest thing he had to family in LA, making their opinions matter. But he had no doubt they’d love her.

In the living room, Harry waited for Y/N to finish getting ready, dressed in his tailored dark suit with a relaxed fit. The loose white tank underneath, with its wide scoop neckline, subtly revealed his tattoos, and the Pleasing logo stitched at the hem added a personal touch. Cream-colored loafers and white socks completed the look, his short curls neatly styled to keep them from obscuring his face.

The click of the bedroom door snapped him from his thoughts. He rose from the sofa, as alert as a puppy hearing its owner return. When Y/N stepped out, the oxygen seemed to leave the room entirely.

Her dress was light pink, soft and flowing, with thin spaghetti straps and a V-shaped neckline that showcased her décolletage. The slightly sheer fabric hinted at her elegant curves, while the asymmetrical hemline added a whimsical touch. Her hair was slicked back into a high ponytail, and her makeup was pink-toned and dewy, enhancing her natural glow. She paired the dress with strappy silver heels and a small, dainty bag dangling from her shoulder.

Her hand clung to her opposite arm, feeling vulnerable as she stood before him. Harry felt his breath hitch, his lips parting as he tried to absorb how breathtaking she looked.

“Bambi…” he managed, his voice low and reverent.

Her cheeks flushed. “Is it too much?” she asked softly.

Harry stepped closer, taking her hands in his and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “You look beautiful. I don’t even have the words to tell you how incredible you are.”

She ducked her head, shy like the deer he affectionately nicknamed her after. “Thank you. You look very handsome, too,” she said with a smile.

“Thank you, baby,” he murmured, his gaze fixed on her like she was the only thing in the world.

“Do you like my dress?” she asked, her voice tentative.

Harry’s hands slid to her waist, feeling the soft fabric and the gentle curve of her silhouette. “I love it.”

“I made it,” she admitted, her blush deepening.

His brows lifted in surprise. “You did?”

She nodded, and Harry was awestruck. He’d seen her sketches before—ones she had reluctantly shared after he begged—but seeing her creations come to life was something else entirely.

Harry glanced at his watch, sighing reluctantly. “We should probably get going, but first…” He pulled out his phone, aiming it at the two of them. Y/N laughed, trying to push the camera away, but eventually relented, leaning in to kiss his cheek just as he snapped the photo. His grin widened, his eyes crinkling with joy.

Taking her hand, he asked, “Do you need a jacket?” His gaze flicked to her bare arms.

“I’ll be okay, as long as the bar has heating,” she replied with a small laugh.

Harry chuckled but grabbed a jacket on their way out anyway. He knew her well enough to anticipate the moment she’d get cold but wouldn’t say a word about it.

The drive to the bar felt like it took forever, thanks to the heavy city traffic. Harry’s hand remained warm on her thigh, and she wrapped her arm around his, seeking comfort from his touch. She chewed on her bottom lip, a nervous habit she couldn’t seem to stop.

“A little,” she confessed, glancing over at him. “I just want them to like me. I’ve never had to introduce myself to anyone’s friends before... I don’t want to mess up.”

“You’ll be fine, Bambi,” Harry reassured her, his voice calm as always. He’d said it so many times already, and she knew he’d say it dozens more if she needed to hear it. “Just be yourself. That’s all you need to be.”

Y/N wouldn’t say it out loud, but the age difference between her and Harry’s friends had been weighing on her mind all evening. The nine-year gap between her and Harry had never been an issue for them—it felt inconsequential when they were together. But his friends might see it differently.

What if they thought she was too young, too inexperienced, too… immature for someone like him? Worse, what if they assumed she was with him for his success, for the money he worked so hard to earn? The mere thought made her stomach twist. She didn’t want to be judged on circumstances she couldn’t change or assumptions she couldn’t dispel.

Harry’s friends meant a lot to him, and their approval—or lack of it—would sting far more than she cared to admit.

She nodded anyway, letting out a slow breath and turning her gaze to the window. The city lights blurred outside, their glow reflecting in her eyes. Even though his words helped calm her, she still couldn’t shake the nerves.

When they pulled up to the bar, the fancy building loomed in front of them. A valet was already waiting, and Y/N couldn’t help but notice how Harry always seemed to have the luxury treatment everywhere they went. It was a reminder of how different her world was from his, but she tried not to dwell on it.

As Harry stepped out of the car, Y/N noticed the photographers waiting outside. It wasn’t a surprise, but it still made her stomach tighten. Harry wasn’t a mega-celebrity, but he was well-known enough in the business world that the occasional paparazzi was inevitable.

Harry opened the door for her, his hand gently resting on her hip as he helped her out. His arm wrapped around her, pulling her close. He kissed the top of her head, and it felt like both a reassurance for her and a subtle message to the photographers.

The bar was dimly lit and sophisticated with shiny tables and chairs with red upholstery. Live jazz music played as people chatted over glasses of wine that probably cost more than Y/N’s monthly wages had to offer. “Do you own this bar?” Y/N asked, clinging a little bit tighter to Harry’s hand.

Harry chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Not this one,” he said, guiding Y/N toward a booth at the back of the bar. As they approached, the laughter of a group already seated at the table reached her ears. The sound was warm, familiar, like a group of people who had known each other for years.

A man with long brunette hair had his arm around a woman with similar dark hair that cascaded in waves down her shoulders. The two of them were laughing, their faces lit up in shared joy, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel a little nervous as they neared the group.

Before she could even take a deep breath, one of the men spotted them walking over. He had a rugged beard, and he stood up with a grin, his drink in hand.

“Harry!” he called out, extending his hand.

Harry gave him a knowing grin and shook his hand firmly, his other arm still wrapped around Y/N. “Mate,” he greeted warmly, pulling him into a quick hug.

Y/N watched the exchange, trying to hide the anxious flutter in her stomach. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but she knew this was an important moment for her. She hadn’t met many of Harry’s close friends yet, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that this would be a defining moment—how they reacted to her, how she’d fit in with this group that meant so much to him.

The man with the beard turned to Y/N, his eyes flickering with curiosity, and then he offered her a smile. “You must be Y/N,” he said, his tone warm and welcoming. “It’s great to finally meet you.”

Y/N smiled, a little relieved at the friendly tone in his voice. “Yeah, it’s nice to meet you too,” she replied, her nerves still there but starting to ease. “I’ve heard so much about you guys.”

Harry stood beside her, his hand still resting at the small of her back, offering her silent support as she navigated this new territory.

The man with the beard grinned as he stepped back, giving Y/N a moment to breathe. "This is Mitch," Harry said, gesturing to the man with long brunette hair who was seated next to a woman with equally dark hair. Mitch gave her a warm, easy smile, his arm casually wrapped around Sarah’s shoulders.

"It’s great to meet you, Y/N," Mitch said, his voice easy and friendly. "Harry’s told us all about you."

Y/N’s nerves eased a little more as Mitch’s friendly demeanor helped her feel at home. "I hope it’s all good things," she said, a nervous laugh escaping her lips.

"Oh, definitely," Mitch replied, nudging Harry with his elbow and giving him a teasing grin.

Sarah, Mitch’s girlfriend, stood up from the booth with a bright smile, her waves of dark hair catching the light. She reached out to shake Y/N’s hand, her voice warm and welcoming. “Hi! I’m Sarah. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

Y/N’s heart fluttered, but Sarah’s friendly tone immediately put her at ease. “Nice to meet you too,” she replied with a smile, trying to match Sarah’s warmth. "Harry's mentioned you guys a lot."

“Good things, I hope,” Sarah teased, winking as she sat back down beside Mitch.

Before Y/N could respond, a deep voice from the other side of the booth spoke up. “You must be Y/N,” a man with a thick beard said, “I’m Jamie.”

“It’s good to meet you,” Y/N smiled.

Jamie gave her a smile that seemed to take up half his face, his eyes twinkling with humor. "Harry’s been keeping us in the loop." He offered her a firm handshake, his grip warm. “It’s about time we met the girl who finally has him whipped.”

Finally, a woman sitting across from Jamie stood up, her presence immediately commanding attention. Alessia was striking—her short hair framed her face with confidence, and her posture was strong. She offered Y/N a small, warm smile. "I’m Alessia," she said, extending a hand. "It’s so good to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you from Harry."

"Nice to meet you too," Y/N said, shaking her hand with a smile. There was something calming about Alessia’s assuredness that made Y/N feel at ease, even though she was a little more reserved than the others.

As Alessia returned to her seat, Harry’s hand still rested on Y/N’s back, a silent comfort in the midst of the introductions, as they sat in the booth next to Sarah and Mitch. His friends were exactly as he’d described—kind, welcoming, and playful. They were a perfect match for Harry and that bought a sense of relief to her.

“Can I get you a drink?” Harry murmured to Y/N, his hand gently brushing against hers as he leaned in.

Y/N hesitated, biting her lip. She had never really drunk alcohol before—not because she didn’t want to, but simply because she never really went out drinking. Whenever she was out with her brothers, she always stuck to something safe like Coke or Sprite. She felt a little embarrassed to admit that she wasn’t sure what to order.

“Um…” She fumbled for words, feeling self-conscious. "I...I don't really know what to drink."

Harry’s smile softened, as if he understood right away. “Would you like me to pick something for you?”

Y/N felt a wave of relief wash over her. He wasn’t making her feel stupid. "Yes, please," she said gratefully, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

With a nod, Harry turned and motioned for the guys to follow him toward the bar. As they walked off, Y/N felt her nerves kick in again. She was left standing with Sarah and Alessia, the two women who already seemed so at ease with each other and the group.

Y/N suddenly felt a little out of her element. She wasn’t used to hanging out with other women in this kind of setting. With her brothers, everything was easy and casual, but this... this felt different. She was afraid that her awkwardness would be obvious, so she searched for something to say, anything to break the silence.

It didn’t take long for Sarah to sense her discomfort. She leaned forward with a welcoming smile. “Where’s your dress from? It’s gorgeous,” she asked, her voice light and friendly.

Y/N's face softened at the compliment, and she felt more at ease. “Oh, um, I actually made it,” she said, a little shy but proud. "I love fashion, so I’ve been sketching designs for a while."

Sarah’s eyes widened, impressed. “Wait, you made it? That’s amazing!” She looked at Y/N with genuine admiration. “It looks beautiful on you. I honestly thought it was something you bought from a high-end store.”

Y/N laughed softly, feeling a bit shy but happy with the compliment. “Thanks, that means a lot. I’ve kept a lot of my sketches in an old notebook, but I’ve always wanted to show them to someone.”

“I would love to see them sometime,” Sarah said enthusiastically. “I’m obsessed with fashion too. Maybe we can swap ideas sometime.”

Alessia, who had been listening with a smile, chimed in. “You’re really talented. I’m sure Harry’s lucky to have someone so creative around especially with his company.”

“Do you guys work in fashion too?” Y/N asked, genuinely curious about the two women she’d just met.

“Just Harry, I’m afraid,” Sarah replied with a playful smile. “We all went to art school, though. Mitch and I own an art gallery together, and Jamie runs a theatre company.”

“And I design album art for artists,” Alessia added, her voice warm and casual.

Y/N’s eyes widened in genuine awe. “Wow. That’s so impressive. Is that how you all met? Through art school?”

“Yep, we were kind of the outcasts of our year group,” Sarah said with a chuckle, “so we stuck together. And look where we are now.”

Y/N smiled, feeling the closeness between the group. “That’s so cool. And... were you and Mitch together back then?”

“Oh no,” Alessia laughed, shaking her head. “Sarah and Mitch didn’t get together until after art school. It was excruciating to witness—those two pining over each other for four years and never doing anything about it.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at Alessia’s blunt description. “That sounds like a movie.”

“It kind of was,” Sarah said, laughing with her. “But it worked out in the end.”

“I bet Harry told you about us,” Alessia continued, leaning in a bit. “He told us he was bringing you tonight, and we were all nervous, actually.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows, surprised. “Really? I was nervous too.”

“Are you kidding? After Harry’s last ‘girlfriend,’” Sarah said with a playful eye-roll, “we thought we’d be meeting some bitchy gold-digger who’d be all over him, trying to separate him from us. But then we met you, and it was like, thank God—you’re nothing like that. Honestly, we’re so relieved.”

“Harry talks about you non-stop,” Alessia added with a teasing grin. “For the last month and a half, it’s been ‘Y/N this, Y/N that,’ in our group chat. It’s kind of sweet, honestly.”

“Really?” Y/N blinked, her face softening with surprise.

Sarah smiled warmly. “Yeah, don’t worry, it’s nice to hear. He deserves someone who treats him right, you know? Especially after everything he’s done for all of us.”

Alessia nodded, her expression turning a little more serious. “He got me out of some serious debt. I was on the brink of losing everything, close to being homeless... but Harry stepped in. He rented me a place, helped me get back on my feet, and even called in a favor that landed me my first real job. He’s the most caring person I know.”

Y/N’s heart warmed at Alessia’s words. This wasn’t the first time she’d heard someone speak so highly of Harry, but it never failed to move her. Hearing it from his friends, people who had seen him at his best and worst, made her realise just how deeply Harry cared about the people in his life—and just how lucky she was to be part of it.

Soon Harry returned with the boys, sliding into the seat next to her. He placed a drink in front of her, “I got you an Aperol Spritz but if you don’t like it I can get you something else.” He told her.

“Thank you,” She beamed up at him and took a sip of her drink. It was light and bubbly with a slight bitter yet citrusy taste. The more she drank, the more she enjoyed the taste of it.

Harry continued conversing with his friends, and Y/N found herself enjoying the easy banter between them. It was nice to see this side of him—relaxed, almost boyish, and playful. The way his friends teased each other with such familiarity made her smile, and it felt like she was catching a glimpse of Harry’s world before she’d come into it.

She liked his friends. All of them were warm and welcoming, each with their own distinct personalities, but there was a genuine closeness that she could see. They kept her in the loop, filling in the gaps on things she might not have fully understood—like an inside joke or a shared memory—until she felt like she was beginning to grasp the dynamics between them.

Sarah and Alessia were especially attentive, constantly asking her questions and trying to learn everything about her. Y/N appreciated their curiosity and kindness. They didn’t make her feel like an outsider, instead showing genuine interest in her life and her background.

Every so often, Y/N would catch Harry looking down at her. He’d check in on her, his gaze soft, making sure she was okay and not feeling overwhelmed. His protective instincts were clear, and she was grateful for it. He didn’t hover, but whenever he could, he’d quietly reassure her with a small smile or a squeeze of her hand under the table.

Despite the lively atmosphere, Y/N felt like she wasn’t just another guest at the table—she was part of the conversation, part of the group. And it was easy to relax into that sense of belonging as the night wore on. Even though she was still a little out of her comfort zone, she couldn’t help but feel more at ease with every passing minute, especially with Harry so nearby.

She laughed at something Sarah had said, a light, genuine sound that felt more natural than she expected. The whole night had been surprisingly fun, and for once, she was enjoying being part of something so lively, instead of shrinking back.

“So Y/N, what’s Harry like as a boyfriend?” Jamie asked, causing Y/N to freeze in her seat.

Harry’s hand stilled from where it had been drawing invisible circles on her knee. The table seemed to pause, sensing the awkwardness in the air.

“That bad?” Jamie chuckled, trying to lighten the moment.

Y/N’s mind scrambled for the right words. She wasn’t sure how to describe their relationship—things were still new, and they had never really put a label on it beyond "dating." Her mouth felt dry as she fumbled for a response.

“U-um, we’re not— I don’t think—” Y/N stumbled, her face flushing. She didn’t know how to put it into words, not wanting to make things awkward or overthink it.

Before she could continue, Sarah quickly chimed in with a grin, “A better boyfriend than you.”

The entire table burst out laughing, and the tension in the air seemed to lift immediately. Jamie threw his hands up in mock defeat, shaking his head with a smirk.

“Alright, alright. I’ll take the loss. But I’m definitely curious now,” he said, leaning forward. “What makes Harry such a great boyfriend, then?”

Y/N glanced at Harry, meeting his eyes, which were filled with amusement but also a warmth that made her heart skip. "Yeah, Bambi, what am I like as a boyfriend?"

Her lips parted at the question. It was the first time he had referred to their relationship so openly, and the realisation hit her in a way that made her smile nervously.

“Well,” Y/N began, her voice softening as she relaxed, “he’s incredibly thoughtful. He’s always checking in on me, making sure I’m alright, and—he actually listens. He’s not the kind of guy who brushes off what I say or rushes through things. He’s really present.”

Harry’s hand slid over to hers under the table, his fingers intertwining with hers in a quiet show of support. He squeezed her hand gently, his gaze tender, saying everything without needing words.

“And he’s fun,” Y/N added with a light laugh, her nervousness easing. “He doesn’t take himself too seriously, which is honestly one of my favorite things about him.”

Harry’s smile deepened at her words, and there was something in the way he looked at her—like he was asking her a question without saying it aloud. “I love it… Being his girlfriend.” Y/N blushed but Harry’s face widened into a grin, one of his dimples appearing on his cheek.

The group exchanged knowing glances, clearly enjoying the moment. Alessia raised her glass, her eyes twinkling.

“To Y/N, we wish you all the luck in the world for having to put up with us.” she said, toasting her with a wink.

Everyone joined in, lifting their glasses, and Y/N felt her heart swell at the way Harry’s friends rallied around them.

. . .

Y/N hadn’t noticed how much Harry had had to drink until his head rested on her shoulder, in the middle of her conversing some more with Sarah and Alessia, “Think I want to go home Bambi,” He murmured. Y/N pushed his droopy curls back and saw the hazy look in his eye, a lazy smile on his lip, “So pretty,” His lips puckered as he spoke.

Y/N giggled, “How are we meant to get home silly, you drove us here.”

“Oh yeah,” Harry huffed, “I did didn’t I?”

Sarah chuckled, “We can drop you guys home on the way back to our place. We’ll just tell the valet to keep hold of his car. He can pick it up tomorrow as punishment.”

Y/N laughed softly, nodding her thanks to Sarah. "That sounds like a good plan," she said, looking down at Harry, whose cheek was now squished adorably against her shoulder. He was humming a tune she couldn’t quite place, the sound low and soothing despite his obvious tipsiness.

Harry’s hand found hers under the table, his fingers clumsily lacing through hers. “Y’ make me the happiest Bambi. ‘M so happy y’ m’ girlfriend.” he mumbled, his words slightly slurred but unmistakably earnest.

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, her heart skipping a beat. “That’s a lot of happy,”

“It is isn’t it?” Harry laughs.

Sarah stood up, grabbing her bag. “Alright, let’s get you two lovebirds home.”

Y/N helped him to his feet. He wobbled slightly, leaning heavily against her. “You’re my favorite person ever, you know that?” he said as they made their way to the exit, his voice loud enough to draw a few amused glances from nearby tables.

“I think I’m starting to get the idea,” Y/N replied, her tone affectionate as she wrapped an arm around his waist to steady him.

“I’m hungry,” he announced loudly. “Can we get chips? Or pizza?”

“Let’s get you home first, superstar,” Mitch said, clapping him on the back and making Harry stumble slightly into Y/N.

“You’re my hero,” Harry murmured dramatically as they shuffled toward the car, his arm draped over her shoulder. “You saved me, Bambi. You’re the best.”

“You’re going to think otherwise when you see how many embarrassing photos Sarah and Alessia probably took tonight,” Y/N quipped, her laughter blending with the others’ as they piled into the car.

“Embarrassing?” Harry blinked at her, his expression mock-serious. “Never. I look good in all lighting.”

Y/N shook her head, letting out a laugh as Harry’s head found her shoulder once more. “We’ll see about that in the morning,” she said, her voice fond.

Harry let out a contented sigh. “You smell so nice,” he murmured sleepily.

Y/N giggled, smoothing her hand over his curls. “You’re ridiculous.”

As the car pulled away from the bar, Harry mumbled something about her being “too good for him” before trailing off into a soft snore. Y/N looked down at him, her heart swelling. Even in his drunken, clumsy state, he had a way of making her feel like the most important person in the world.

Once Sarah and Mitch dropped them off right at Harry’s front door, Y/N was left with the daunting task of lugging Harry to his room. He wasn’t exactly helping, his body swaying dramatically as she tried to steady him.

“Harry, you’re not making this easy,” she huffed, half-laughing as he stumbled. By some miracle, she managed to guide him to the bed, where he flopped down—half on the mattress, half on the floor.

“Mission accomplished,” she muttered under her breath, crouching down to untie his laces. But just as she reached for his shoe, he playfully kicked his foot away, his lips curling into a cheeky grin.

“C’mere, Bambi,” he murmured, his voice low and a little slurred.

Y/N stood, brushing off her knees, only to find herself being tugged down onto the bed when he grabbed her wrist. She landed on top of him with a surprised gasp, her hands braced against his chest.

“Harry!” she exclaimed softly, but he didn’t say anything, just looked up at her with those green eyes, hazy but full of something she couldn’t quite describe.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The world around them seemed to blur as they gazed at each other, an unspoken connection passing between them. Harry reached up, his fingers gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The faint smell of alcohol lingered on his breath, but his touch was steady, his expression achingly tender.

“Mean it,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “You make me the happiest.”

Y/N’s heart twisted at the sincerity in his words, her breath catching in her throat. Her lips curved into a soft smile as she cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing against his skin. “You make me the happiest too, Harry.”

Taglist~

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pinkboaclub · 2 months ago

Text

Professor Styles [part two]

[read first part here!]

Summery: After you hook up, Professor Styles desperately tries to work things out, though you’re unsure……until you’re not.

Words Count: 2.9k

Warnings: smut, teacher-student relationship (university-everyone is of age), fem!reader

It was Monday morning, and the air in the lecture hall felt heavier than usual. You could barely focus on anything, definitely not on the lecture Professor Styles—Harry—was doing.

Instead, your mind kept circling back to Friday night when you felt the soft brush of his hand against yours, the lingering heat between you as he leaned in closer to help with your research, the unexpected rush of emotions that had filled the space between the two of you, the kiss, and everything after that. You couldn’t shake it. You couldn’t look at him the same way anymore.

He stood at the front of the room, detailing his lecture, though you didn’t hear a word he said. His eyes were constantly trying to find yours, looking over at you every few minutes, but you stayed looking at your notebook. You normally were so engaged in these lectures, eager to raise your hand, to contribute, but today you stayed silent. The tension between you and Harry was palpable, and you felt it in every inch of your body.

He dismissed the class to work on their assignment as he walked around the room, asking people if they needed help. Your stomach churned every time he walked by your seat, which he kept doing, as if he was preparing himself to talk to you.

"Y/N?" He finally said, breaking you out of your nervous thoughts. "How’s the assignment going? Need any help?"

His voice, low and familiar, sent a jolt through your body. You didn’t dare look up, but you could feel him standing there beside your desk, waiting for an answer.

You shook your head quickly, avoiding his gaze. "No. I’m fine," you muttered, your voice coming out more abrupt than you intended.

He paused, as if he wanted to say something back, but nodded and moved on to the next student. You felt like you’d ruined everything, and yet, he still was trying to grab your attention.

The rest of the class dragged on. You couldn't focus. Your mind kept spinning with thoughts of Harry. What would he think of you now?

After Harry gave a last minute instruction and dismissed the class, everyone started to shuffle out of the room. You grabbed your things, the only thing on your mind was leaving. Just as you were about to walk to the door, you heard Harry’s voice again.

"Y/N, could you stay for a moment?"

You froze. His voice made your heart race, and you cursed yourself for not leaving faster. You could feel the weight of his eyes on you as you reluctantly gathered your belongings and made your way to the front of the room. You tried to come up with some excuse, an assignment to work on, a place to be.

“Uhm, I actually have to go…I have somewhere to be.”

“It will only take a moment, it's about the last assignment.”

You knew it wasn’t about the last assignment, but a large part of you was praying it was.

"Sure," you reluctantly said, your voice tight.

The last student left, and Harry closed the door behind them. The awkwardness caused your body to want to squirm.

He leaned against his desk, his gaze softer now, but still carrying that same tension. “Y/N, I—” He paused, running a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to find the right words. "I’m so sorry. I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable, and I just...I don’t want you to hate me. I really care about you, and I would never want to ruin…this…us." His voice was sincere, and you could hear the concern in it, but it only made you feel more confused.

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words got caught in your throat. You didn't know what to say, you agreed with him, you never wanted to feel uncomfortable around him. But, he never made you uncomfortable.

“I don’t hate you,” you said firmly. "I think I...crossed a line, though. I shouldn’t have let it happen." Your voice broke slightly, and your heart raced at the confession. You stared down at your shoes, shifting uncomfortably.

Harry’s eyes widened, and he shook his head vehemently. “No, Y/N, you didn’t do anything wrong. Nothing about that was wrong.” He took a deep breath and a small step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "You didn't cross any line and I’d never want you to feel bad about it. You didn’t make things awkward for me. I just want to know you’re okay, at the very least"

You stared at him, trying to make sense of everything. His words, your feelings, the entire situation. But everything felt so jumbled in your mind.

And then, without thinking, you walked up to him. The pull between you both felt magnetic, and before either of you could say another word, you were kissing him again, this time, it was you who closed the space between you.

His lips were warm against yours, and the second they met, they welcomed yours, molding together. He didn’t hesitate this time. His hands cupped your face, drawing you closer.

When you pulled away, your breath was shallow, your heart pounding in your chest. His forehead rested against yours, and you could feel him smile, that same soft smile you’d seen a hundred times before—but now, it felt different, warmer, more intimate.

"I think I just ruined everything, again." you whispered, your voice breathless.

Harry chuckled softly, pulling back to look you in the eyes. "No," he said, his voice low but certain. "You didn’t. We’re just figuring this out together."

There was a loud knock on the way causing both of you to harshly separate, creating a large distance between the both of you. The person walked in, it was another one of the art professors coming in to talk with Harry.

“So I think if you have time to make it up today, we can definitely work something out, make sure you get the grade you wanted.” Harry blurted, trying to make it look like he wasn’t just making out with a student moments before.

“Oh, yeah no problem, what time do you want me here?” You casually replied, pulling out your best acting skills. The other teacher, giving Harry a smile and waiting patiently for your conversation to be done.

“Uhm,” He looked at his watch, face scrunched, in a way that almost turned you on. “How about, anytime after twelve thirty My last class ends at twelve, so I can prepare a makeup quiz for you, it shouldn’t take long.” He lied and he gave you a look.

“That sounds perfect, see you then.” You gave a final nod before walking towards the door, giving the other professor a smile before walking out.

In your next class, feeling way better about your current situation with Harry, your phone lit up.

‘See you at 12:30, my classroom.’

You knock on the door that had ‘Professor Styles’ engraved into it. Taking a deep breath, looking around to see other students passing by. The door finally opened to a smiling Professor Styles—Harry.

“I have that makeup quiz ready for you.” He said while the door was still open.

Once the door was closed and he turned towards you, you grabbed his face, smashing your lips against his. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your body closer to his.

“Mm…my…office…is the only…door with…a lock on it.” He muttered in between kisses. You both walked towards his office, which was connected to the classroom.

He closed and locked the door and turned on the light. Walking backwards, you leaned your backside against his desk, continuing to keep his lips on yours.

Licking your bottom lip, he gently demanded entrance to your mouth, which you gave gladly with a light moan. You kissed him deeply, pushing your tongue against his. His hands rested lightly on your waist and yours on his solid chest.

You lost track of time while enjoying kissing him, not worrying about anyone or anything else, until you suddenly wanted more. Much more.

“Is this okay?” You broke away from his lips to unbutton his shirt, looking up at him to silently ask. He firmly consented and slowly dragged your top off, followed by your bra.

He leaned down to kiss your collarbone, gently nipping his way down to your breasts before taking one in his mouth. His hand cupped the other breast, rolling the already hard nipple with his thumb and forefinger. He moaned into your breast, the vibration against your nipple sending a wave of heat and sensation through your body. You gasped and dug your nails into his broad, strong shoulders.

He helped you out of your pants and lifted you on to the desk. His hands became more urgent as he began kneading and caressing your thighs.

“Please, more, Harry,” You babble, unable to form a specific request.

He pulled your underwear off and swiftly placed his fingers on your clit, before slowly lowering his body. You had never been so turned on in your life. He pulled your legs over his shoulders and without another word, he licked a soft stripe along your slit, from your opening to your clit, before parting his lips and planting a gentle kiss on the clit itself. You covered your mouth to muffle your strained gasp.

“We need to be so quiet, honey. Just for now, next time I’ll make sure you can scream as much as you want.” He gently said, rubbing a hand up and down your thigh.

He licked another stripe along your slit and fixed his gaze on yours as you watched your Professor do this, which was the sexiest yet dirtiest thing you’d ever seen.

He continued to look up into your eyes as he alternated licking, sucking, and grazing his teeth along your clit and labia. Registering every reaction, noting what you responded to the most, every moan, every ‘yes, keep going’. He gave you the most attentive care you had ever been given during sex.

The men on campus you had been with either wouldn’t go down on you or only did it until you were wet enough for penetration. Harry enjoyed giving you oral. He began sucking harder when he felt your legs straighten out, stiff and trembling, while your breath became heavier and louder.

“Oh fuck, Professor, I, I–ugh” This time he didn’t correct you, almost finding you calling him Professor hot.

“Yes, cum for me. You’re so beautiful like this, Y/N,” He encouraged between hot heavy breaths, before he buried his face into your pussy, using his nose to rub your clit even more vigorously while his tongue licked at your entrance.

His words tipped you over the edge and you started grinding yourself upwards, grabbing the back of his head and lightly pushing his face into you. You were cumming violently, heels digging into his shoulder blades, fingernails digging into his scalp, wanting to scream at the intensity of the pleasure.

After he licked your sensitive folds and inner thighs clean as you came down from your extreme high, he wiped away the cum that painted his chin, the tip of his nose, and his lips.

As he stood up you noticed his cock pressing against the fabric of his trousers. He had almost made you forget, by putting your pleasure at the centre of his attention. You unbuckled his belt and massaged him through his underwear.

You then removed his underwear, getting a better look at him than you did last time when you both were so quick and urgent. This time, you both were taking in every moment.

He stepped towards you, caressing your breasts before running his hands down to your hips, making you feel safe in his embrace.

“Tell me what you need, baby.” He kissed your upper neck, then behind your earlobe, rubbing his cock along your sensitive slit.

“You Harry, please, I want you.”

He kissed your temple, acknowledging your request. Using the head of his cock to stimulate your clit and inner lips, he began breathing against your neck. He knew exactly how to pleasure you, you almost feel ready to cum on the spot with this new stimulation.

After a little more teasing, you couldn’t take it anymore. You lightly gripped his cock in your hand and led him to your very ready entrance.

Needing no further encouragement, he slowly plunged into you and finally buried himself fully. He waited a moment, looking at you to make sure you were comfortable. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he began to move.

You stayed as quiet as your mouth would let you, not wanting to risk someone hearing and Harry getting fired. But you could have spent the whole time screaming his name over and over again.

He was so deep in you that your muscles started to contract around his cock, causing him to grunt in pleasure. He gripped your hips hard and began thrusting more vigorously, you could tell he was close.

Teasing your clit, he began sending you towards your own climax. You started to grind up against him even harder and crashed your mouth onto his. Desperately kissing and gripping each other, you both approached your own orgasms.

“Harry…..Harry” you quietly moaned into his shoulder, using every ounce of strength you had to stay quiet.

“I know, I’ve got you.”

You cum again, your body twitching as the pleasure rolled through you.

Your muffled moans as well as your contracting muscles on his cock, drove Harry to his orgasm, which almost made him double over as he holds your thighs in a grip that will probably leave bruises. He pulled out and came on your thigh, neither of you really worrying about where any of it would land.

Gently, he took your flushed face in his hand, “You’re so perfect, that was so perfect.”

You nodded, fully agreeing with him

You smiled as your foreheads leaned against each other, happy that you could be this intimate with him and not hate yourself afterwards.

“I do want to make this work. It will be hard, we won’t be able to tell anyone, at least for now, but I want to make it work, make you comfortable.” He said, moving his hand up to brush away some of your hair.

“I want to too. I’m sorry I didn’t know how to tell you on Friday.” You replied, diverting your eyes from his out of embarrassment.

“Don’t apologize. Our lack of communication was not your fault at all” He said sternly. “We’re here now, we feel good, we’ll figure this out as we go.” His words comforted you. In that moment you could have stayed in his embrace forever.

“I should get going though, I don’t think makeup quizzes usually take this long.” You both chuckled, allowing yourself to pull away and put your clothes back on.

With a flirtatious wink, you said a temporary goodbye “See you tomorrow, Professor Styles”

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harrysxcarolina · 1 month ago

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if i was a blue bird, i would fly to you, you'd be the spoon dip you in honey so i could be sticking to you...

h. styles

warnings: oldies but goodies... haven't written for H in so long, but I do have a couple drafts of revenge and some one shots, sooo maybe if the motivation hits i'll post em...

jealous type x harry is the jealous type, but he makes sure to only show it to you in private.

no control x what happens when you and harry have an unspoken agreement to keep a low profile as friends with benefits? neither one of you wanting to ruin the friendship or friendships you have with others, but eventually things catch up to the both of you and you are forced to make a decision?

more x you want and crave more of harry in ways that he just can't give you.

ring x Harry loves the idea of you wearing one of his rings and makes you promise that you'll never take it off.

revenge x If revenge is what you want, then revenge is what you’ll get.

the story of us x an au that shows the once private relationship between harry and y/n. harry being the famous popstar sensation, while y/n is an upcoming author and Youtube vlogger.

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grapejuicenharry · 5 months ago

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Angel (part 2)

In which Harry and Y/N go on their first date- as a couple. (3k words)

warnings: smut 18+, fingering, fluff, kissing, soft h

Part 3

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ . ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶. ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

Harry had been thinking a lot. Ever since he and Y/N made it official, he’s been meaning to take her on a real date—their first date as boyfriend and girlfriend. These last few days had been a whirlwind for Harry. That night when they made their relationship official still felt surreal to him.

Y/N was coming over to his apartment today to hang out and have dinner together. They had planned to watch The Notebook since it was both his and Y/N’s favorite film, and eat the Chinese takeout that Harry had ordered. This had been their routine for the past few days—hanging out every day after college at each other's places, ordering takeout or cooking together, simply enjoying each other's company, sleeping next to one another, and soaking in the bliss of their relationship.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” Harry suddenly blurts. They were both sitting on couch while the movie was playing, Y/N was too engrossed in the film, while shoving popcorn in her mouth, legs resting on harry’s lap when she hears him. It took her few seconds to register what he was saying. "I want to take you on a real date. Since we’re already dating, I thought we should," he adds nervously, fidgeting with his glasses.

Y/N couldn’t help but grin. He looked so adorable, fidgeting with his glasses while asking her. Truthfully, she never minded that they hadn't gone on official dates—spending every moment together already felt like dating. But now that Harry was asking, excitement bubbled up inside her. "Yes, of course, I will!" she replies, jumping onto his lap. Harry beams, clearly pleased by her enthusiasm.

She wraps her arms around him while settling into his lap, the movie playing softly in the background. “So, where are you taking me? Are we going to the Chili’s near campus?” Y/N asks excitedly.

“No, we’re not going there since we eat there almost every day,” Harry replies with a laugh. Y/N was adorable; she really thought Harry would take her to the same place they usually go after college. “But I can’t tell you—it’s a surprise.”

Y/N pouts playfully, trying to coax out more information. “Come on, just a hint?”

Harry shakes his head, grinning. “Nope, that would ruin the fun. You’ll just have to trust me.”

She rolls her eyes dramatically but can’t hide her smile. “Okay, fine. I guess I’ll just have to wait and see. But it better be good!”

Harry chuckles, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I promise, it’ll be worth it. Just enjoy the movie for now.”

As they settle in, Y/N feels a mix of curiosity and excitement, wondering what surprise Harry has planned.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Harry had organized a picnic date in the fields, knowing how much Y/N adored picnics. She had mentioned several times how she loved nature, surrounded by fresh flowers, sitting on the grass, and enjoying the sun. He packed a basket with her favorite snacks, including sandwiches, various fruits, candies, chocolates, and a cooler filled with juice and sparkling water. He even picked a bouquet of wildflowers to give to Y/N.

Y/N was thrilled. She had been eagerly anticipating this day, even finishing all her assignments yesterday so she and Harry could enjoy the weekend together. Dressed in a baby pink sundress as Harry requested, her hair tied back with a white bow, and pink heels adorning her feet, she felt giddy with excitement. A mix of nerves and anticipation swirled in her belly, especially since Harry refused to reveal their date destination. She had tried every trick in the book to get him to spill, but he didn’t budge.

She looks at herself for the last time in the mirror and hears her doorbell ring. She furrows her brows while wondering who is it. Harry never rings the bell to come in her apartment, She hurriedly opens the door to find the man of her dreams standing there, Harry

Harry stood there, dressed in a light pink silk shirt that matched hers, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, revealing the tattoos on his arms. His glasses framing his perfectly handsome face, while his messy curls looked like he’d run his hands through them one too many times. In his hands, he held a small bouquet of wildflowers.

“Hi,” he finally managed, his voice soft as he cleared his throat, his eyes darting nervously to her and then away. Y/N looked breathtaking, and he couldn’t help but fumble his words. “You look so beautiful, Y/N,” Harry mumbled, barely above a whisper, his cheeks pink as he stared at her, completely in awe.

“Thank you,” Y/N replied, her own cheeks flushing. Harry always had that effect on her. Her eyes fell to the flowers in his hands. “Are those for me?” she asked, smiling.

“Yeah… I, um, I picked them because I know you like them,” he said shyly, extending the bouquet, his hands shaking slightly as he offered them to her.

“They’re so pretty, and they smell amazing. Thank you,” she said sweetly before rising on her toes to kiss him softly. Her lip gloss left a faint shimmer on his lips, and though Harry’s face flushed even more, he secretly loved it.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

The ride to the field was quiet, but in that comfortable, intimate way they both loved. The windows were slightly down, letting the cool breeze filter through the car as they drove. Soft music filled the space-Harry had made a playlist just for her, full of her favorite songs, and Y/N couldn't help but smile every time she recognized another one.

His hand rested gently on her thigh, his thumb rubbing slow, lazy circles over her skin, sending little shivers up her spine. While she played with his rings on his fingers. She felt the warmth of his touch, the way his fingers absentmindedly traced patterns, and it was enough to make her heart race.

She still had no idea where they were going. The road seemed endless, stretching out into the countryside, and the mystery was starting to get to her.

She glanced over at Harry, whose eyes were focused on the road, a slight smile playing at the corners of his lips when he realized she was staring at him. He knew what she was about to ask.

"Where are we going, Harry?" she asked for the third time in the past thirty minutes, curiosity lacing her voice.

Harry playfully threw his head back and groaned, glancing at her, his smile getting wider. "Just a few more minutes, love," he murmured, giving her thigh a gentle squeeze. "I promise, you'll like it."

Her stomach fluttered with anticipation as the scenery around them began to change.

She looked out at the endless fields of sunflowers, bright and cheerful. Different types of flowers swayed gently in the breeze, making it feel like they had stepped into a whole new world. Trees surrounded them, their leaves rustling softly in the wind.

As the sweet smell of fresh flowers floated in through the window, Y/N closed her eyes and took a deep breath, feeling refreshed. Harry noticed her reaction and rolled the window down further so she could see everything better. The wind rushed in, tossing her hair around her face.

She turned to Harry, who wore a huge grin, his own hair flying in all directions. In that moment, everything felt perfect. They were lost in this beautiful scene, and nothing else seemed to matter.

“Cmon let’s get out” he mutters. Y/N excitedly fumbled with her seat belt, While harry opened the door for her, extending his arm. She immediately took and hopped out.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

“This is beautiful, Harry. I’ve never been to a place like this,” Y/N said, stopping mid-step to face him as they walked through the field. Their hands were intertwined, swaying gently in the breeze, with flowers tangled in both of their hair.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” she added softly, wrapping her arms around his neck before kissing him deeply. “This is the best date ever,” she whispered between their kisses.

Harry chuckled, pressing his forehead against hers. “There’s more, baby,” he murmured, a playful glint in his eyes. Y/N furrowed her brows, curious, but before she could ask, Harry gently pulled her toward the back of his car. Her eyes widened in surprise as he revealed the assortment of things he had packed.

She gaped at the sight of the picnic mat, snacks, cooler, sandwiches and candies. Her heart swelled as she watched him, his thoughtfulness making the moment even more special.

YIN stood there, watching in awe as Harry finished setting everything up. He spread out the soft picnic mat under the tree's shade, its branches swaying gently overhead. Se couldn't help but smile at the sight of the cooler filled with her favorite drinks and the pile of candies they both loved. Everything felt so perfectly thought out, so them.

"You really outdid yourself," she said, still smiling as she sat down on the mat, pulling him down beside her. Harry gave a shy smile, rubbing the back of his neck, looking a little embarrassed but proud.

"I just wanted it to be special," he said softly, his gaze meeting hers, full of warmth.

"It is. More than I could have imagined," she replied, reaching for his hand, their fingers naturally lacing together again.

She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, making him blush slightly.

They sat there for a moment, munching on the snacks he had packed, taking in the serenity of the field around them, talking about mindless things, laughing at Harry’s jokes, the air filled with the sound of rustling leaves and giggles. The warmth of the sun peeked through the trees, casting a golden light on everything, making it all feel magical.

Harry laughed, looking down at Y/N, who was lying on his lap, munching on a strawberry. “So, now that we’re officially on a date, does this mean you’ll finally stop stealing my hoodies?” he asked.

Y/N grinned up at him. “Absolutely not. Whether we’re dating or not, those hoodies are mine.” She loved wearing Harry’s hoodies. They were so soft and comfortable, like being wrapped in a hug from him. Plus, the lingering scent of his cologne always made her feel at ease. It was comforting in a way that felt like home—safe, familiar, and somehow made her sleep better every time she wore them. But she was too embarrassed to admit that to him.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “Great. So I’m never getting them back?”

“You could just leave one at my place. Make it official—‘Harry’s Hoodie Collection.’” She was teasing him at this point.

“Oh, so it’s like that? A whole collection huh?” Harry smirked, running his tongue along his front teeth.

“You know it. And I’m definitely taking your favorite next,” She giggled, pulling playfully at his cheeks.

“You’re evil,” Harry said, nudging her hand away, trying to hide the blush that crept up, knowing how much he secretly loved seeing her in his clothes.

The sun shone warmly above them as Harry and Y/N lay back on the soft mat. The sky was a clear blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds drifting lazily. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the nearby trees and made the wildflowers sway.

The air was filled with the sweet scent of fresh grass and blooming flowers. Birds chirped softly in the distance, adding to the peaceful atmosphere.

Y/N took a deep breath, her curiosity getting the best of her. “Okay, serious question… when did you start seeing me as more than just a friend?” she asked, biting her bottom lip.

Harry opened his eyes and turned to face her, chuckling as he gently released her lip from her teeth. “Honestly? I think I liked you from day one,” he admitted, his voice quiet. “But I was a little scared to say anything back then. Our friendship was so important, and I didn’t want to mess it up.”

He looked up at her, his expression softening. “But as we got closer, it got harder to ignore. I started missing you more when we weren’t together. I always loved hanging out with you as a friend, but then… I started wanting more than that, and that’s when I knew it was more than just friendship.”

Y/N’s heart swelled at his confession, a smile tugging at her lips. “I felt the same way,” she whispered. “At first, it was just little things—like how you always made me feel safe or how easy it was to talk to you. But then those feelings started growing, and I couldn’t ignore them anymore.”

Harry's grin widened at her words as he leaned in to kiss her gently. Y/N grabbed his jaw, pulling him closer as she deepened the kiss, her fingers tangling in his curls while the other hand rested on his jaw. He shifted, positioning himself on top of her, taking her bottom lip in his mouth and sucking it softly.

The kiss quickly grew heated, both of them eagerly longing for this moment.

Y/N had wanted to kiss him the instant she saw how much effort he had put into planning this picnic, how considerate he was being. She slipped her tongue into his mouth and sucked on it, causing Harry to moan softly in response. Their kiss became a delicious mess of tongues, both panting and trying to catch their breath, their foreheads touching.

Harry began trailing kisses her jaw, his lips finding the sensitive spot on her neck. He gently sucked at her skin, eliciting a soft gasp from Y/N as she instinctively arched her back, giving him more access. His hand gravitated to her thighs as he hiked her dress up, trailing his fingers higher. Y/N parted her legs in response, her breath quickening as his fingers brushed the edge of her panties. Restless with desire, she wanted his fingers closer to where she craved them. She grabbed him by the neck and pulled him in, their lips crashing together. A soft moan escaped her as she felt his fingers pressing against her clit, making her gasp at the pleasure.

Harry began rubbing his finger in tight circles over her clothed clit, feeling her panties grow increasingly damp beneath his touch. Each movement made her wetter, as she lost herself in the sensation as he worked his fingers expertly.

“More,” Y/N whimpered softly into his mouth, her eyes tightly shut in pleasure, a strand of hair sticking to her forehead as she got lost in the delightful sensations.

“Can I take this off, baby?” Harry whispered gently, tapping two fingers on her panties. Y/N nodded vigorously, unable to form a coherent response in the moment. She lifted her back slightly, making it easier for him to pull down her panties. A gasp escaped her lips as the cool air hit her bare center.

Harry began to rub around her clit, gathering her wetness before inserting a finger inside her. She moaned loudly in response, his finger pumping in and out while his thumb moved in tight circles on her clit, leaving her mind hazy with pleasure. His other hand slipped to her chest, cupping her breasts and pinching her nipple.

“Open your eyes, look at me,” Harry commanded. She obeyed, her gaze meeting his, which was nearly completely black with lust, devoid of any trace of green.

“Are you close?” he muttered, kissing the side of her lips, slick with her saliva. Y/N nodded shyly. Harry added another finger, pumping them fiercely while his other hand gently pulled down the neck of her dress, revealing her breast. Her nipples perking as the cool breeze hit them. He kissed her areola before taking her nipple into his mouth, sucking and kissing it softly.

As if he couldn’t get enough, Harry leaned down to her breasts, sucking and softly biting a patch of skin, leaving a hickey behind. Y/N whimpers and moans in response, her hands tangled in his hair, tugging at them slightly, her legs wrapped around him.

The sensations became overwhelming for her, tears streaming down her cheeks in pure bliss. Her moans grew louder as the pressure in her belly reached its peak, her orgasm crashing over her like waves, making her cum.

Harry slowly withdrew his fingers, careful not to hurt her as she was still sensitive. She whimpered at the loss, watching in surprise as he brought his fingers to his mouth, tasting her. "You taste amazing, baby," he said before leaning down to kiss her, making her taste herself.

Her body felt limp, muscles relaxing and breath evening out. She didn't realize her eyes were drooping until she noticed Harry gently lifting her dress and cleaning her inner thigh with a wet tissue.

He gently scooped sleepy Y/N into his arms, carrying her to his car. He settled her in the seat, adjusting it slightly to make her more comfortable, and buckled her seatbelt. She noticed that he had cleared everything except for the mat and pillow she had been lying on. “Just a moment, baby, I’ll be right back,” Harry said, giving her a soft peck before folding the mat and placing the pillow in the trunk of his car.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

The sun was almost set now, hiding behind the array of clouds in the sky. The pink and purple hues of evening began to appear, the air growing chilly as the melody of birds started to slowly fade in the distance.

As they drove, Harry glanced over at Y/N, who was already looking at him with a sleepy smile.

“What?” Harry asked with a soft smile, growing nervous under her stare.

“I really enjoyed today; it all felt like a dream,” Y/N whispered, taking his hand and kissing the back of it.

“Did you like the picnic?” he asked, his voice soft.

A dreamy smile appeared on her lips. “I loved the picnic; it was the best date ever.”

Harry grinned, his heart swelling at her words. “I’m glad. I just wanted to make it special for you.” Harry had spent countless days planning for this picnic to be perfect; he had never organized a date before, but he wanted to make it special for Y/N. He nearly drove himself mad in his efforts to get everything just right.

“It was special, Harry. I loved every bit of it,” she replied, her voice a gentle whisper.

“I love you, you know that?” he said, glancing at her briefly before focusing on the road.

“I love you too,” Y/N smiled, letting her eyes finally drift shut as the soothing sounds of his voice and the gentle hum of the car lulled her into a light sleep. She felt safe and cherished.

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justlemmeadoreyou · 1 year ago

Text

secret little rendezvous*

Summary: Part 1 of friends with benefits!harry series. It's going to be full of smut, and also a tint of angst.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: SMUT!, kissing, dirty talk, degradation, p in v sex, jealous feelings

"All I dream of lately is how to get you underneath me."

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

Harry was fucked.

Completely, utterly fucked.

In his defense, he was tired. He had been running around his workplace the whole day, managing the work of 4 people because they wanted to “spend the holidays with their family”.

And here he is now, staring at anything else he could find, other than the warm cunt beneath him swallowing up his cock with each thrust. The wall, the headboard, the ridiculous stuffed toy near the pillows, anything, just so he won’t cum before you.

He knew that if he looked down, he instantly would. Flood your pussy with the pent up load of this whole shit week he’s had.

But you don’t mind. Given the point of being friends with benefits with him is getting an equal share of everything, but he gets a pass because he can get you off with his fingers easily, something others can’t.

So, you try and push him. Squeeze tighter, moan louder and arch your back just a lil’ bit more just to make him cum faster.

“I know what you’re doing, won’t work” he lands a hard slap to your ass, earning another moan as he increases his pace. Wet, sloppy thrusts, each paired with his grunts and your moans.

He grips your waist, leaning in so his chest meets your back, nipping at your earlobe while biting your neck below your ear.

“Hey, fuck off, man. That could be seen” you slap his shoulder, and he nips off, giving you a particularly rough thrust, making you lurch forward. The headboard bangs against the wall repeatedly, his thrusts paired with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin.

“At least they’ll know you get laid” he remarks, and gets back up, feeling a bit held off, reaching a hand below and rubbing your clit.

“Fuck, that’s not fair” you whimper, legs giving out beneath you. You squeeze around him harder, gripping the sheets as you get closer and closer.

“I know, baby. That’s why it’s fun” another rough thrust into your sloppy wet cunt and you’re gone. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, toes curling as the orgasm washes over you.

“Oh fuck!” you curse as you bite your lower lip, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of an incredible orgasm.

He already knows.

He cums soon after, grabbing your hips harshly as his thrusts become slower and shallower, , his breaths ragged and uneven against your skin. He repeatedly curses, your name intertwined between them as he empties himself on your back.

“Fuck, that was good” he slaps your ass a last time, making you whine. You put yourself down on the bed, but not moving too much because of the cum on your back. He falls on the bed beside you, eyes closed as he catches his breath. His eyes are closed, a sly smile on his lips, face glowing in the afterglow.

He gets up soon after, almost as if he timed the 30 seconds he had taken to recover. He walks to the washroom with his dick still hanging out, closing the door behind him. You stare at the door till you hear the sound of the flush, and he comes out with some toilet paper.

He climbs back on the bed, reaching you and wiping his cum off your back. He wipes it down completely, though it takes some time given how much he had cum, throwing the used paper into the dustbin nearby. You want water, but he isn’t one to care for you once you’re done, other than wiping off his release.

“Can you-bring me water from the kitchen?” you ask, already knowing what his answer is going to be, and mentally cursing yourself afterwards.

“What am I? Your boyfriend or something?” he shakes his head, picking up his pants from the floor and quickly getting dressed.

“It wouldn’t hurt you to give me water afterwards.” you reply, putting your head back down on the pillow so he doesn’t say that you’re watching him dress.

“It doesn’t. But, I don’t do that shit. And you know that'' he raises his eyebrows, but you don’t look up. Not at least till he’s out of the room.

Seeing the lack of reaction, he gets his coat from the couch and his phone, his keys, before yelling for a last time, “Close your door”

You don’t reply again, and he storms out, slamming the door shut behind him.

You really wish he cared.

Just a little bit, maybe?

>>>

“I don’t want to do it” you reply to Harry on the phone with a hand on your head, pinching the skin to relieve some of the pain from your head throbbing.

“You didn’t have any problem before. Whenever I called, you would say yes”

Ugh, you really really wanted to throw the phone across the room. Or at his face. If he worked in your department, you would happily call him in your room, and slam the phone at him.

“Well, I do now. My head is killing me and if you don’t shut up soon, I’ll throw this at you when I see you next.”

“So tonight then? I’ll stay away from you”

What?

“What? Tonight? Why?”

“Dylan’s birthday”

“Oh fuck.”

“Yeah. Fuck. And since he got you the “Special invite” you’re gonna have to be early for Dylan” he mocks you, because he had sent you a bouquet of flowers with an e-invite.

“Oh get over it.” you huff.

“Whatever. I’ll avoid you tonight. Don’t try and stick to my ass”

“You wish”

With that, you cut the call.

>>>

Getting ready for the party, you were a mess. You did not want to go and get mocked by them for the bouquet, you did not want to see Harry and you did not want to leave the house either. It was so cold outside, and you would have to drive a good 4 miles because that bastard celebrates birthday like a teenager.

The party was average. There were only two people who teased you, Leah and Emily, oh, and Harry of course. Others had forgotten, and you were so grateful for that.

“So, you and Dylan. Huh” Harry came up to you, with a beer bottle in his hand. He was the one who told you to stay away from him, and here he was now, purposely coming and sitting near you.

“Shut up” you replied, taking a sip of your own drink.

You ignored him, looking anywhere else except him. You looked at the dance floor, where everyone was swaying their hips and moving with the music, the bar where they were serving drinks, anywhere.

And he did not like that.

“So, how was your day?”

You turned around 180 degrees, raising your eyebrows at him.

“What??”

“I said, how was your day? Or did your headache make you deaf?” another sip off his stupid beer.

“Seriously? Mr. Don’t stick to my ass is asking me” you pointed your fingers towards yourself “how my day was?”

“Yeah, I was just trying to make small talk”

“Well, wrong time. Shut up”

You went back to your own business, sipping your drink and ignoring him successfully. He seemed frustrated with you, and you were sure his nose was flared too. It was only for a few moments, because then his phone beeped. A message.

“Ah! Finally!” he drank the last few sips, and got up, throwing his unlocked phone beside you.

“Take care of it, will yeah? I’ll pay my bill and come back to take it”

That bastard.

It was a text from some Sophia, who was his hookup for tonight since you had said no. He wanted to show you that he had other people to sleep with, and that was why he threw his unlocked phone to go and pay for a drink from a party.

He really was a condescending dick, wasn’t he?

You sat there till you saw him turn back from the bar, and as soon as he was within your line of sight, you got up and left.

You saw him cursing while he picked up his phone, and he was most definitely cursing at you.

Not that you cared.

>>>

He didn’t call you for the next week, and a few more days after that. If he could act like a child just to tell you he has multiple hookups, something you didn’t really know about, you could at least pretend to not care.

Not that you did, no.

Next you two saw each other was at the Christmas party.

Some co-workers were bringing their kids, and so a few were asked to be dressed as Santa, Harry being one of them.

The Christmas party was more lively than stupid birthdays, and you were thankful for that. You had forgotten to book tickets to go back home, and last minute tickets were really not worth the raging dinner you had with your whole family. Most of the people would ask you about your boyfriend, when you were getting married, were you planning on having kids, how to raise them, where to raise them, all of which you didn’t want to worry about for at least the next two years. So, an office party followed by some takeaway and a Christmas movie marathon sounded perfect.

>>>

Most people had arrived, and the place was buzzing with chatter and the slow sounds of Christmas carols playing in the background. Everyone was dressed great, adorned in festive attire with a Christmas hat perched on top of their heads. You had worn an oversized sweater, tucked in a pair of skinny jeans, and boots that you had bought a month ago. Wearing a Christmas hat, you didn’t look so bad yourself.

You took a drink from the top shelf that was made to be kept away from the children, and you wandered off, looking for Harry. He might be a bastard, but it was Christmas, so you could bear him for a while, say Merry Christmas.

Looking through the cabins, the corners, he was nowhere to be found. Maybe he was struggling with his Santa costume.

You found him soon after, struggling in one of the supply closets with his beard stuck to the zipper.

“Fucking hell! Oh for fucks sake!” he was continously cursing, while trying to pull the zipper down with limited strength. If he pulled too hard, the poor rented dress would definitely tear off.

“Want some help?” you leaned on the doorway, bringing your hand up to your lips as you laughed at his misery.

He looked at you with his resting bitch face, putting both hands beside his waist. He might look all tall and intimidating, dressed in all red with a big bod, but to you, he looked like a child who couldn’t even get his clothes right, and always messed them up.

You chuckled, before going over to him, trying to up the zipper and untangle it from the fake hair.

“Yeah, I’ve already tried that, smarty pants” he said frustrated, and you reached for your pocket, pulling out your lip balm.

“What are you doing with that? You know this is rented right? Don’t put lip balm on this!”

“Yeah, old man. I know” he rolled his eyes, and you began rubbing some wax on the zipper to smoothen it down so it’ll slide easily.

“And don’t tell me you don’t know how dirty these rented outfits are. This beard you’re wearing” you pull at it lightly, making him grunt, “is filthier than our kitchen. And you know how dirty our kitchen is”

He shakes his head, “Whatever, I just have to wear it for 2 hours or something, and then I’ll return this back”. He watches you intently as you rub the wax on it, and after a few tugs up and down, it smoothes out, and the beard untagles. You zip him up, and the red outfit fits perfectly on his tall form.

You take a step back, eyeing him up and down, with a smirk on your face. He doesn’t look too bad, he is tall and the outfit he’d gotten fits him quite well. The long trousers, the ridiculously large shoes, the cap on top of his head, he kinda looks hot.

He notices you checking him out, and puts his arms around his chest, pretending to try and save his sanity from you.

“Miss Y/n, what are you going to do to me?” he takes a step back, voice low and husky. And just for the fun of it, you decide to play along. You step forward, your steps synchronizing with his steps back, and he goes back till he bangs with a cupboard.

He looks at you with utter fear in his eyes, and you can’t help but bite back a smile, going all the way and gripping his waist.

Tightly.

He sucks in a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. He knows he can’t get too excited, or the next few hours will be a nightmare for him.

You couldn’t be more tempted to put him into misery.

You pull yourself up, coming face to face with him, standing on your heels. He gulps down hard, knowing well how this will not end well for him.

You lean closer to his face, his lips just moments away from yours. Your hand shifts from his waist to his heart, which is beating widely in his chest. A thin layer of sweat coats his forehead, and the tension between you is almost impalpable.

Your lips come closer and closer to his, and as soon as he lifts his jaw to kiss you, you pull back, and go for his neck instead.

It’s difficult with the beard in between, but you manage to lick a long stripe from his shoulder to his jugular, feeling his pulse on your tongue. You reach back and open your mouth, baring your teeth as you bite on the skin, nipping and pulling slightly to make a mark.

And to your surprise, he doesn’t stop you. Lets you bite and suckle at his neck till there’s a proper mark blooming on the side of his neck, the skin turning red. Your tongue glides over the mark, soothing the slight sting as you continue to tease him. He moans, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulls you closer, his hands finding your waist. It’s so easy-you could slide your hand down to his pants, squeezing his crotch and he’ll be done for. He’ll get hard and then be miserable while the kids ask to sit on his lap.

But you decide against it. Wearing that costume just for the little rascals to click pictures with him and make fun of him later. It was torture enough.

You pull back, and as expected, his pupils are blown out, eyes full of lust. And, as expected, he’s half hard.

You lick your lips, a little breathless as you look up at him. He looks down at you with the same lust and hunger, and you get week in the knees as he leans in and whispers, “You’re going to be sorry for that tonight” he reaches back and grips your ass, giving it a light squeeze, “on your knees”

Your stomach flips with anticipation as his words send shivers down your spine. You know what he means, and it only adds to the growing heat between your legs. You’re left with an open mouth as his grip on you is gone, and he leaves the room. You stand there for a good 5 minutes, before blinking rapidly and exiting the dark room to join the party.

The party was uncomfortable, to say the least. For both of you. You were hot and bothered, the wetness between your legs growing as you imagined him on top of you, his hands tangled messily in your hair as he fucked your face, drool and tears dripping down your face as his cock pushed in and out of your hot, wet mouth. His balls slapping against your chin, your nose deep in his trimmed pubes.The way his deep, husky voice would command you to open your mouth wider, to take him deeper.

You could almost taste him, the salty sweetness of his skin, the musky scent of his arousal. Your mouth watered at the thought of him filling you, stretching your lips and throat as he pushed himself deeper and deeper. And that was making your cheeks hot and red, thighs pressed together as you looked at him as if he was a meal, one which you couldn’t wait to devour.

And maybe someone else was looking at him the same way too.

Olivia, a co-worker, approached you a few moments later, a little bit tipsy because of how much she had been drinking since she got here.

“He looks so fucking sexy, doesn’t he?” she remarked, and you blinked, pulling yourself out of your imagination.

You don’t mind other girls hitting at him. Well you did, somewhat, till you found out he was hooking up with others as well.

“Hm?”

“Styles. He’s so damn hot. Can’t wait to fuck him in that santa costume tonight”

Oh no.

“What?”

“Oh you don’t know? He fucked me last Wednesday. Said his other hookup cancelled and he needed someone who didn’t mind. I said yes. I mean, “ she tilted her head, looking at him with a face that made you want to punch her. “What bitch would say no to that? Have you seen the ass on him? And his dick. Holy fuck. It’s so fucking bi-”

“Okay-I don’t want to hear about that” you stopped her before she practically drooled over him in front of you, and described how he fucked her.

“What? You don’t like to hear some good fucking. Oh come on, it’s not like you’re getting boned, are you? You’re so boring?” she rolled her eyes, before turning around and bumping her shoulder, walking away.

No way you waited 2 hours for him just to have her take him.

No fucking way.

With gritted teeth, you picked up your purse, and walked to Harry on the other side of the room. You pulled at his arm, to try and take him to the side to talk. He reluctantly walked, making you pull his huge body half the way.

“Hey, hey, patience, love. M’ not going anywhere. Can’t you wait for just a few more minutes? Then I’m all yours” he said with a smirk.

“Well, Olivia here was describing me how you fucked her last wednesday and how she was taking you home with her today. So, what is happening?”

“What? Olivia? Hell no. She’s super drunk, and I don’t want to be around her”

“Well, then hurry. Ditch this stupid party and…take me home.”

You whispered the last part, hoping you didn’t sound as breathless and desperate as you did. He was an asshole, but he was great in bed and the idea of her doing the same with you did with him, made you want to blech.

“Awww, someone’s a bit romantic. You’re jealous, aren’t you love?”

Here we go.

“No! Why would I be jealous of that…that bitch?”

“There it is. Ugly emotion” he was smiling like a moron, and you felt so embarrassed. Jealousy, or any other emotion, wasn't supposed to be involved, but it eventually always does, doesn’t it?

“Alright, fine. Now shut up and take me home before I change my mind” you said with a frown, and began to walk away.

“Yes ma’am” he replied, following you closely.

>>>

Harry drove you both home, since you were drunk. You were sitting tilted with your back against the window, legs propped up on the sheet. He looked so sexy even when he drove, his jaw clenching every time there was a signal. He was rock hard in his pants, and he couldn’t wait to get home and fuck your mouth.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” he slammed the horn, hitting the brake as the last signal before his street was on too. You giggled, biting your lower lip as you looked at him with doe eyes with your legs propped up on the front.

You leaned forward and turned on the radio, and he gave you a glare. As the song played on, you slowly hummed to the tune, twirling your hairs around your fingers and looking out the window. You were so nonchalant, and Harry did not like that.

“Do you have any idea how hard I am?” he growled, almost painfully. You had a complete idea of how hard he was. He had been so turned on since your encounter in the storage room, and seeing you jealous had probably egged him on even more.

“Hmm?” you turned your head and looked up at him with an innocent look, your hands crossed above your chest.

“Oh.” he chuckled, and you knew you had managed to reach his nerves, “Is it? You don’t know what I’m talking about?”

You shook your head in a no, mouth falling open at the sight of him. He looked angry, as well as horny. Pupils blown out and eyes full of lust, cheeks red. Hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly, while he was controlling himself so much you had no idea. Restraining himself from bending you over and taking you right there in the backseat.

The car came to a halt, and you saw that the signal was on. The last signal before you pulled up to his house.

Before you could blink, he had opened his seatbelt, and was reaching over to your side, pinning your hands to your chest with his wrist. The other reached down, pulling your sweater up and revealing the top of your jeans. You looked up at him with wide eyes, and a cruel smirk was painted across his face.

“Harry-harry, what are you-” you murmured while he undid the button, unzipping your jeans and pulling it down with a harsh pull.

His hand immediately found your panties, and he pulled them to the side, his cold hand making contact with your wet cunt.

You shivered and moaned at the contact, eyes falling shut as his fingers caressed your swollen nub. He pushed one finger in, and you were a goner.

Your legs squeezed shut, mouth parting open as his ring met your lips, the coldness making you whimper. His finger was longer and thicker than yours, and only one was enough to make your walls clench.

A horn blared from the car behind, and your eyes widened. You tried to move your hands, but he had pinned them down firmly, his finger still deep into your pussy.

“Harry-there’s someone behind-they can see you-harry-”

You were stopped by a crushing kiss to your lips, and seeing you hesitant, he pulled his finger out. Pulling back from the kiss, he put the same finger into his mouth, sucking the wetness, eyes falling shut at your taste.

“Know people can see. Though that turns you on even more, doesn’t it?”

You looked down at your unbuttoned jeans, cheeks turning hot and red at his admission. You had a bit of an exhibitionism kink, and people looking did turn you on.

“Knew it. You’re a filthy little whore for me, aren’t you? Good god, I’m so going to fucking ruin you tonight”

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

You were holding on to that promise.

(part 2)

a/n: i spent wayy too much time writing this! no idea why? but i really liked the idea, and i just spiraled with it, and the next thing i know it turned into a series! anyways, let me know if you like this! if this gets enough notes, i'll definitely do a part 2! love you all!

please like, comment or reblog if you like this, i really appreciate every note 🥺🥺

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