vedika ⸆⸉ ོ

You weren’t sure who got more obsessed. Because apparently Harry was out of his mind.

You were reading in your bed. Half dressed, with messy hair and comforter thrown over your body when Harry came into your room, insisting on his important presence, and claimed his usual spot in your bedsheets. But after watching your braless chest rise and fall slowly with every breath you took and your eyebrows furrow occasionally when the plot of your romance novel twisted, he grew bored.

With not so much innocence he thought he had, Harry crawled under the covers and snugged between your parted thighs, looking comical with his socked feet sticking past the edge of the mattress in the air.

“What the fuck Harry?!” Lapping after air, you smacked his head with the sturdy back of your book through the fabric of the comforter, making him groan in pain and bury his face only deeper in your core.

You heard a muffled inhale from him, busking in the scent of your musk and wetness. It was early afternoon, you didn’t take a shower yet, and you were sure he could smell it. His nose bumped into your clit hidden under the thin fabric of your panties and soon his tongue joined the ministration and licked a long flat strip right where a bit of arousal already made an appearance on the crotch.

“Are you seriously- jesus Harry,” You huffed out a laugh before your mouth opened in an ‘o’ shape when he stuck his tongue into your entrance through your underwear.

It was the fifth time that week Harry accommodated himself between your thighs and it was only Thursday! He made you his new hobby, an obsession, a sugary candy he could munch on, and even with your ongoing confusion about his excitement, you were over the moon too.

He didn’t leave the comfort of your apartment. He stayed close, within reach, watching you like a hawk with lustful eyes and prominent need, ready to dive into the waters of your core whenever you’d start craving his touch. At night, in daylight, before dinner, for breakfast, it didn’t matter.

“I’m reading!” You cried out and lifted the hem of the comforter to take in the sight of your best friend between your legs. His eyes were closed as he made out with your core like a man starved. Quiet hums escaped past his lips, making your body buzz, and his arms were tightly wrapped around your thighs to hold you in place.

“You were reading, love,” He reached out and snatched the book from your hand, throwing it carelessly somewhere on the mattress beside him, all without sparing you a single look.

You wanted to react, say something like ‘i hate you!’ or ‘fuck off!’ but all that came out was a loud moan after he pulled the crotch of your panties to the side and pressed a lingering kiss to your clit, already covered in your arousal. Your hips buckled in his face at the rhythmical flickers of his tongue and your fingers tangled in his long strands, pulling him as close as possible.

He had you coming on his tongue in no time, already knowing all your sweet spots that made you roll your eyes back in your head and lungs craving air. He lapped at your juice carefully, not wanting a single drop to go to waste, and moaned into your core until you had to force him away.

“So sweet,” Harry hummed softly and rested his head against your hip, letting you calm down at your own pace. He learned you needed at least five minutes to calm down to get your bearings and his gentle touch soothed you in a way you couldn’t explain.

Your breath was laboured, your body shook slightly under Harry’s weight, and your cheeks were wet from the few tears that fell down in the process as Harry rubbed your side soothingly, whispering soft praises into the silence of your bedroom.

“You’re crazy,” You breathed out finally when your heart beat got back to normal pace and rested your head back against the pillows, watching him nuzzle even closer.

“And you love it,” Harry murmured in a raspy voice, as if he was the one who was moaning and screaming a few minutes ago, and crawled up from underneath the comforter to lay atop of you, burying his face in your neck.

“We have to pack,” You let out a quiet sigh when you noticed the alarm clock on your bedside table.

You were planning on visiting Harry’s mom for the weekend. It’s been a while since Harry has been home and as usual, he wanted to take you with him. You were a part of the family at this point. You spent more holidays than you could count in his hometown, hung out with his sister back in high school maybe too much for his liking, even his extended family knew about you.

Harry decided to drive there. It wasn't a long drive, just about an hour, and his car was back from the service, ready for the roads after his little mishap the other week.

“Ugh I don’t want to!” He whined like a little child and buried his face deeper into your skin. “‘M just gonna wear my old clothes.”

“It won't fit you, Harry!” You laughed loudly at his solution and dug your fingers into his messy curls, scratching his scalp gently. Harry would purr if he could, it was his most favourite thing in the world. Right after you.

“Ever since high school you’re like three times bigger…” You added as you wiggled underneath him to get more comfortable. Your thighs were still sticky and your skin was covered in a light layer of sweat, but what you didn’t expect was Harry’s bulge pressing against your inner thigh through his basketball shorts. “Umh everywhere.”

“You like it?” That comment made Harry look up at you with a wide boyish grin and his hand sneakily slid down to your bottom to give it a firm squeeze.

“Shut up! We really have to pack! And I need to clean myself after your uh… visit,” You muttered with rosy cheeks, hating how easily he could get under your skin. You tried to get from underneath him, pushed at his broad shoulders and chest, but Harry was strong and didn’t even budge.

“Just admit it. You love the fact I get hard on from eating your sweet pussy,” Harry murmured in a low suggestive tone that he knew worked on you like a charm. He leaned forward and pecked your cheek, then the corner of your mouth, before he stole a proper kiss from your lips.

“I don’t,” The frustration was palpable in your voice but neither of you believed your blunt lie.

“Whatever you say, baby,”

Harry only smiled softly at your innocence, those damn dimples popping up, and pulled you in another kiss. His lips worked against yours in a slow pace but gradually grew deeper and messier.

“Harry! I’m serious! We have to pack! The sooner the better! You hate driving at night!” With all the strength you had in your spent body, you rolled him off you on the free side of the bed and got up on your shaky legs.

“You’re like a Bambi,” He propped himself up on his elbow, the comforter over body hiding his boner, and watched you move around your bedroom in just a pair of wet underwear and his old shirt. The sight always made a hint of possessiveness flare up in him.

“Two pairs of pants, two sweaters, three shirts…”

The hangers in your wardrobe left quiet screeching sounds behind as you moved them from the left to the right and back, picking clothes for your trip and throwing chosen articles on the armchair.

“Are five pairs of panties gonna be enough?” You turned around on your heel to face Harry with your bottom lip bitten and 5 pieces of flimsy fabric hanging off your finger.

“If you keep coming on my tongue like that, you’re gonna need at least twenty,” Harry grinned widely. You threw a pair of pink lacy thongs at him in reaction but he caught it expertly without moving his eyes away from you, only supporting your already growing annoyance at him.

The drive to Harry’s mom was smooth. Harry navigated through the heavy traffic in the bigger cities easily and handled the tight turns in the countryside with grace. An old playlist you haven't updated for years with songs from 80s to early 2000s played on repeat and Harry occasionally joined you in your private concert when he recognised the lyrics.

You arrived just before sunset. Anne was already standing on the porch when Harry pulled into the driveway. She looked so nice and put together as usual. With just a hint of makeup, hair lightly curled, wide smile adoring her lips and arms open.

“Hello! Come in, come in, it’s cold out here!” Anne was ushering you inside quickly before Harry could even pull two bags out of the trunk of the car. After a lot of persuading from your side, he reluctantly packed some clothes of his own.

“Hi Anne!” You smiled brightly at her and immediately snuggled in her arms, returning her big hug.

“How are my babies? How are you? Is Harry giving you lots of trouble?” She kissed both of your cheeks with a big ‘mwuah’ sound and rubbed your warm skin softly with her thumbs.

Here was the thing. Anne thought you and Harry were dating. For ages, probably ever since your second year in high school. And neither of you really tried to talk her out of it.

Your two were very close, affectionate, and Harry’s soft kisses to your forehead were hard to mistake for something else than a sign of a romantic relationship.

And Harry liked it this way. Lying to his mother wasn’t indeed something nice, but there wasn’t any harm in doing so. They knew you, they loved you, you were with him all the time anyway.

“I like the idea of dating you better than listening to my mom and sister talking me up to some weird girls I barely know,” Harry admitted one night when you were sleeping in his childhood bedroom, bodies pressed tight together given the small bed, but neither of you minded.

Around Anne and his family, you just had to act more lovey dovey. That task wasn't hard for either of you. Holding hands on or under the table, side hugs and snuggles, sitting in Harry’s lap, kisses to your forehead, cheeks or wherever else his lips could reach. And with the newly explored intimacy between the two of you, this weekend it seemed even easier. Because all you had to do for Anne’s eyes was now what you were doing regularly.

“I’m okay! It’s great to see you again Anne!”

You looked over your shoulder at Harry that was pulling your things out of the car and sent a wink your way when he noticed you were watching him. “Just the regular trouble, nothing I cannot handle.”

Anne cooked a grand dinner for you. It was always like this when you were around. Vegetable soup for the starters, then chicken and roasted potatoes, different types of salads and brownies for dessert. All of it was laid on the dining table, steam curled from the hot dishes and everything looked overly fancy with the porcelain dinnerware set you bought her last Christmas.

“Gemma’s gonna be here for the weekend too,” Harry’s mom announced excitedly as she plated your food. “I’m gonna pick her up tomorrow morning at the train station.”

“Good! Haven’t seen her in ages!” Harry mumbled with a mouthful of potatoes, happy about seeing his old sister, and threw his arm around the back of your chair to support his act. His fingers tickled the back of your neck lightly at first, just an innocent touch, before he slid his arm down and wrapped it around your shoulders.

“And how are your studies? What are you doing all the time? Harry’s not texting me much,” Anne encouraged you with a light move of her fork in the air.

Harry was bad at texting. Messages from one night stands usually stayed unnoticed for days, no matter the situation going on in his pants. The only person he was able to answer within minutes was you.

Dinner was long forgotten as you started describing Anne what you were up to. The essays you wrote and the exams you took, books you bought in the new bookshop by your campus that Harry stole from your desk immediately after he saw them, the new part-time job you found, or the plans you had for the summer with your family. Your life wasn't as exciting as Harry's so you had to spark up some stories a little bit.

But the whole time, his eyes remained on you, listening intently to not miss a single word and giggling under his breath when you mentioned him.

“You look so perfect together,” Anne shook her head fondly at the sight in front of her. “Just how Harry looks at you! My boy is so in love!”

“Mom!” Harry huffed. His cheeks grew warmer under the soft lamp light in embarrassment and he leaned closer to you to hide his face in your shoulder, only supporting his mom’s statement.

“What? I’m just stating the obvious,” She laughed and got up from the table to clean up after the dinner. You offered to help but she dismissed it quickly and ushered you and Harry to go rest after the long day.

The weekend flew by quickly. You spent the whole Saturday gossiping with Gemma, catching up on each other’s lives and walking around Holmes Chapel while Harry stayed with his mom to help her get some jobs around the house done.

“Can’t believe you're still together. How long has it been? Four years now?” Gemma stuck a spoonful of vanilla ice cream in her mouth while laughing. After walking through every corner of the town, you ended up sitting in a park, sun was melting your ice creams slowly and wind was messing with your hair.

You hummed around your own spoon, stopping for a moment to do a quick maths in your head. “Yeah, something like that,”

“I’m happy for you. He’s still a little immature sometimes, a boy, but… you make him better,”

You could see the love and care she had for her younger brother just in the way she spoke about him. He got on her nerves a lot but at the same time he was the one she went to cry, especially when they were still living together back then.

When her first boyfriend broke up with her for some other girl he liked better, that 13 year old lanky boy went to beat him up. Harry ended with more bruises than he was hoping for (zero) but in the end it did the job. Made his sister laugh and put her a tiny bit more at ease.

“I’m happy he didn’t end up like the frat boys back in my college that slept with every single girl on the campus,” She let out a gagging sound at the end of her sentence, her eyes rolling just at the imaginary.

Her words made you stop your hand in the air, the ice cream dripped over the edge of your plastic spoon down on the sandy path. “Umh yeah he’s- he’s great,” You nodded finally and swallowed the melted chocolate.

“He sent me this photo of you guys the other day. Had to send it to mom, couldn’t help myself. I bet she has it printed and hung on the wall already.” Gemma grinned, already fishing for her phone in the pocket. She scrolled through the thread of messages with her brother before she clicked on a photo she was talking about and turned the screen towards you.

You noticed the messages above it first. Plain, easy, nothing extra odd.

But then there was the photo attached. A photo you didn’t even know existed.

You were sprawled on Harry’s bare chest, snuggled underneath his arm that held you tightly in an almost protective gesture, your face buried in his neck and hair messy from his fingers running through it too many times. You were laying on your new lounger you bought for the balcony after your last plastic one had broken. This one was much more sturdy from oak wood and even came with a set of cushions!

On Harry’s stomach, just under his butterfly tattoo, laid the book you’ve told Anne about at the dinner. Spread open, just a few pages in, the dark colour of its cover contrasting with Harry’s pale skin. He just set it down to snap a photo, you assumed, because your pink bookmark was lazily thrown on the cement floor, peeking from underneath the lounger.

You remembered the moment perfectly. You found yourselves like this the other weekend after lunch. The sun was shining brightly and bathed your exposed skin in its warmth. You wanted to just lay down and rest but Harry insisted on starting the new book, in other words, he wanted to read to you. His voice lulled you to sleep before he finished the first chapter, though maybe the steady thump-thump of his heart under your ear and his soft strokes on your back had some effect too.

His face wasn’t fully in the frame, but a wide bright smile was peeking at the top, showing off his bunny teeth. He looked happy. He was happy. And so you were with him.

“I didn’t know he took this photo,” You breathed out in awe before a shy smile appeared on your face. Your grip tightened on Gemma’s phone and you pulled it closer to take a better look.

“You look good together,” Gemma hummed around her spoon as if her words were just a passing by and after a moment took her phone from your hand back and tucked it again in her pocket.

Sunday you spent all together. Harry, Gemma, Anne, and her cats of course. It was the typical lazy day as Sunday should be. Anne made her famous cherry pie for which Harry barely touched his lunch and was whining afterwards because he ate too much of the sweet pastry. Gemma was curled in the armchair by the fireplace, writing something in the laptop on her lap.

“It’ll be quick!” She mumbled when Anne scolded her for working while she should be enjoying the time with you and her brother instead.

But you didn’t mind. Your focus was mostly on Harry anyway because ever since you’ve joined him at the table for breakfast, he’s been acting weird. And not the typical ‘Harry Styles weird’ but weird WEIRD. He was restless in his seat, his hands fidgeted with everything nearby, and he didn’t talk as much as he usually did. Anywhere you moved, whatever you did, his eyes were on you.

You were sitting on the couch with him, snuggled under his arm with legs tugged under your bum and your head on his chest. He rested his cheek against the top of your head and sighed, a quiet, happy sound, just because you were close. He didn’t need more. There was some comedy playing on the TV, but Harry didn’t pay much attention to it and rather studied you. The way you hummed when he squeezed you and melted when he dived his fingers in your hair.

You felt his hand move slowly. Tracing your curves, from your waist down over your hip and to your thigh, before his fingers sneaked under the hem of your flowy dress’s skirt to trace your bare skin.

“Harry,” You murmured under your breath in a warning and covered his hand with yours to prevent him from starting something inappropriate.

“Hey! I’m just appreciating your beauty,” Harry pouted and gave your thigh a hard squeeze, making you whimper at the sudden pressure around your skin. He ducked his head to your neck and nuzzled closer, pressing lingering kisses over your throat.

“Too expressively,” You pinched the skin of his biceps between your thumb and your forefinger, just enough to leave the marks of your nails behind.

“Ouch! Sweetheart!“ He whined. His free hand immediately moved to caress his ‘wounded’ arm, examining the two little half-moons among his tattoos.

Anne joined you all in the living room not so long after, claiming her usual spot on the opposite side of the couch, and accommodated one of her cats immediately in her lap. The purring of the happy cat was so loud even you could hear it.

The conversation flew easily. Gemma set her laptop away and you turned in Harry’s arms, as much as his grip allowed it, to face Anne better as you talked. And Harry? He remained quiet. He listened to your exchange of words with watchfulness and nothing to add, his eyes focused on your face only as if you were the most mesmerising thing in the whole world.

Later that day, you packed your bags and put them in the trunk of Harry’s car also with a few containers of food from Anne so you didn’t have to worry about cooking for a day or two. She watched how you and Harry acted and communicated with each other and couldn’t help herself but smile at the sight widely. Mother always knows.

“Please drive safe. And be good to her,” She hugged Harry tightly, disappearing in his arms for a moment just like you usually did thanks to his height, before she turned to you, “Text me when you get home. And anytime you need, yeah?”

“Will do,” You nodded.

Soon you pulled out of her driveway and with a wave out of the window disappeared behind the first corner. The ride back home felt much longer, even though it was the same kilometres and time. You were curled deep in the passenger seat in a position that many people would see as a dangerous one, but your sleepy state didn’t really play by the rules.

Harry’s hand found your thigh about 20 minutes in the drive and gave it a gentle squeeze, something he’s never done before. He was a reckless driver, but never touched more than your hand during the drive, and only on the occasions when you were upset and teary eyed.

His thumb drew shapeless lines in your skin while he drove, though his eyes were fixed on the road unraveling behind the windshield in the dark, as if he wasn’t even realising what he was doing.

“Don’t fight the sleep, baby. You can nap. I’ll wake you up when we get home,” He murmured softly. He could see your head dropping and pulling back up when you drove through a pothole, desperately trying to stay awake.

“No I’m good,” You let out a soft mumble into the fabric of the passenger seat and snuggled up even more in it, pulling your legs up, your knees in your chest. Your eyes fluttered shut again and your lips parted, you didn’t even realise you were starting to drool.

“Of course you are. Perfect actually,” He hummed to himself and looked from the road down at you quickly. His heart ached at the sight. So pretty and small.

You slept through the rest of the car ride. When you blinked your eyes open, the sky turned dark, making stars scattered above your heads appear, and the houses passing behind the window signalled you were a minute away from the warmth of your apartment.

“We’re home, love,” Harry whispered when he parked the car in front of the apartment building and unbuckled himself before he turned in his seat to face you. He reached out and cupped your cheek, his thumb running over the soft skin under your eye.

You nuzzled into his big warm palm immediately and pressed a kiss wherever your lips could reach. Something so innocent your brain didn’t even catch up with.

Harry used the quiet moment to watch you, take the sight of your warm cheeks and tousled hair in. You looked so beautiful his heart could combust.

There was something dark in his eyes, you weren’t sure what, but it lured you in. It reminded you of the looks he gave you before he ended up between your legs or you atop his lap. Hungry. Waiting. Calm.

“Have I told you how pretty you are today?”

“No,” You shook your head, not really sure what to do with his compliment.

“You’re so pretty. So much it hurts, sweetheart.” He used his hand on your cheek to pull your face closer to his before he dived right in. His mouth moved against yours slowly at first, warming you up, tasting how much you were willing to do after the long ride. No matter what, he would never push you into things you didn’t want to do or crossed your boundaries.

You answered with a quiet whimper and licked into his mouth, making him groan at the sudden bold move. Your tongues danced together passionately and noses bumped into each other.

“Let’s get inside, hm?” He whispered in your mouth. His forehead rested against yours as he tried to catch his breath, low on oxygen all because of you.

“Mhm,” You nodded and unbuckled yourself.

Harry threw your bags on the floor in the hallway without any care when you got inside your apartment and clumsily toed off his sneakers, almost falling over in the process. There was the watchfulness in his eyes again, love curled around his orbs and want lingered in the puffs of breath he let out past his lip.

You were putting the containers with leftovers from lunch, spaghetti and some creamy vegetable soup from Anne, in the fridge when Harry found you in the kitchen. He crowded your space, his big palms cradled your hips gently yet with a firm grip and his chin rested atop of your head. Wrapped in his arms again.

“You’re dangerous,” He murmured after a moment in your hair before giving your hips a squeeze.

“Why?” You giggled and turned around to face him.

“This dress, ugh, this damn dress is doing things to me. Your waist, your boobs, your ass…” Harry growled lowly as his eyes took you in for a millionth time that day, holding you at arms length to see everything. “It fits you perfectly,”

The dress wasn’t something breathtaking like Harry interpreted it. You bought it on sale the other year just for casual wear. It was made from a soft black fabric, with a V cleavage and skirt long mid your shins.

“Just… I have no words, sweetheart. You have me speechless,” He groaned as if the sight of you pained him, which kind of did, and leaned down to kiss you hungrily, communicating this way everything words couldn’t.

You laughed into the kiss, finding him absolutely hilarious, but when he caged you between the kitchen counter and himself and his forming bulge pressed against your lower tummy, the laugh died in your throat.

“Harry,” You whimpered into his open mouth quietly, giving him free access to the depths of yours. His tongue swept against yours easily, the taste of cherry pie still lingering somewhere in between your exchange of saliva.

“Mhm? What is it?” He pulled away from the kiss. He lifted his right hand towards your face and ran the back of his knuckles against your cheek, making you lean into his touch.

“I don’t know,” The breath that left your lips was shallow, holding you on your own very edge from Harry’s presence, before a quiet laugh fought its way out too.

“ ‘m so hard, baby,” Harry cried out.

You have noticed, no, felt, the prominent outline of his hardening dick against the seam of the zipper on his jeans. It looked painful. You maybe had no experience, but you were sure he was bigger than average.

“Do you want me to help you?” You blurted out before you could think it through. You haven’t even seen him naked yet and suddenly you were offering to strip him down.

“Help me?” He chuckled at your proposition, his smile turning into something much more softer. “Oh my dirty girl. You can help me, yeah… We can try something new,”

“Yeah?” You whispered.

“Mhm,” Harry started slowly walking backwards in the living room, your small hand enveloped in his big one, leading you to the couch. “You could blow me. Or just touch me with this pretty hand, that’s gonna feel good too,”

“But what if it won't feel good? You know I haven't done it before,”

There were the insecurities of not being enough again. Of only embarrassing yourself in something so mundane, not fitting into the same boxes like the girls that touched him before.

“It’s gonna feel amazing, I already know it,” He sank down on the couch and spread his legs wide, welcoming you to stand in between them.

You squirmed on the spot under the heaviness of his gaze and bit your lip nervously, not sure what to do with yourself. You felt so awkward, unnatural, unsure of yourself. Nothing a guy would want in a girl. But Harry wasn’t just some guy.

He reached for a fluffy pillow you changed just a few days ago into a flowery cover and set it on the floor in front of your bare feet.

“C’mon, on your knees, baby, want you comfortable,” Harry murmured lowly, his voice getting just a bit darker, and offered you his hands to hold onto so you could kneel.

“This is so weird,” You cringed at the position you’ve found yourself in and rested your hands on his knees. Your skirt rid up slightly, the material bunched under your bum and your cleavage fell a little lower, giving Harry an even better view on your breasts.

“We don’t have to do this, it’s alright. You know I won't be mad,”

“No, no, no, I- I want to try this,” You shook your head quickly, so sure about your decision, and slid your hands up his thighs to prove your point.

“Alright, sweets. But you tell me if something doesn’t feel good, yes?” He waited for a nod before continuing, “Why won’t you help me out of the pants first, hm? It’s getting quite tight in them,”

With another determined nod, you started unbuckling his belt. Your hand shook slightly but you managed to pull the leather from around his waist with less awkwardness than you’d expected. Discarding the belt on the floor next to you, you moved to pop the button of his jeans open. Your hand brushed against his hard dick beneath the denim fabric and you heard him sigh just at the briefest touch. The sound of the zipper filled up the silence in the living room space neither of you really minded and Harry lifted his hips immediately, helping you tug the pants down.

Soon Harry was sitting in front of you in just his boxers and plain black shirt. You played with the hair on his thighs, tracing the outline of the tiger with your pointer finger, doing anything to keep yourself busy from thinking too hard about what was about to come.

“Let’s start easy. Touch me through the fabric, give me a squeeze, or you can kiss it if you’re feeling brave enough. Anything. Just want you comfortable,” Harry took your hand from his thigh and slowly moved it over his bulge, holding himself with your hand.

“Woah,” You whimpered. Touching him like this felt so monumental. You didn’t expect he’s gonna feel this hard and big, you couldn’t even imagine how he’s gonna look bare. It didn’t feel like anything you’ve ever felt before.

“Hard, innit? Told you, feels good already,”

With a spur of adrenaline or excitement, you weren’t really sure what exact emotions were bubbling in your belly, you leaned forward and pressed a kiss over his length, just next to your hands, leaving a smear of saliva behind on the cotton.

“Ugh good girl. My bravest girl. So good for me,”

Harry ran his fingers through your hair, messing with the strands a bit, cradling your head in the gentlest manner, not that he could do otherwise, and held you close.

You smiled shyly at his praise and looked up at him from underneath your lashes. With warm cheeks, doe eyes and tousled hair, the dress pooling around you and soft light from the lamp hitting your skin just right, you looked like an angel to Harry.

Testing the waters, you pressed there another kiss, this time a bit higher, close to the hidden tip. Hearing Harry react quite vocally was mesmerising to see, how his jaw dropped and eyes darkened. His hand slid from your head to your cheek and he ran his thumb over the warm skin, encouraging you to press more kisses over his clothed cock.

“Wanna kiss the real thing, sweetheart? Are you still brave for me?” He moved your hand to the waistband of his boxers and curled your fingers inside. You nodded at his questions, agreeing with both, and with his help started slowly tugging the cotton down.

His cock sprung up immediately when it had enough space, the bulbous head hitting your cheek in the process given how close you were, and you whimpered softly in shock.

Clumsily Harry tugged his boxers down his thighs and let them fall around his ankles, kicking them hastily away.

“Are you still doing good?” Harry murmured and wrapped his hand around his cock, giving himself a few lazy tugs to release some tension.

“Mhm,” You hummed but your eyes were focused only on his crotch. You were mesmerised.

He was big. Wide in girth you weren’t even sure you’d be able to wrap your fingers around him, with a prominent vein on the side and long so much his tip hit his belly button.

“What uh- what should I do now?”

Harry couldn’t help himself but smile at the sight in front of him. You were so cute and innocent, completely at his mercy. Trusting. His.

“Wrap your hand around me,” He guided your hand to his hard cock gently, wrapping his fingers around yours before ever so slowly started stroking his cock with your connected hands. “Feels so good baby. You’re doing great, just follow my lead,”

“You’re so hard, Harry,” You observed out loud, feeling the heaviness of him right in your palm. With each stroke, you felt his cock getting harder and the tip turned into a more angrier shade of red.

“Because of you. You’ve got me so hard, sweetheart. See? I’m already leaking,” He got your thumb swipe over the head and collected the forming bead of pre-cum. You watched wide eyed, with parted lips, doing as he told you to. “That’s a good girl, doing so good for me,”

You pumped him slowly for a bit. With his guiding hand at first before you took the matter in your own hands and tried on your own, and quite successfully, because you had Harry whimpering quietly in no time. He tried to keep his face straight, but your hand felt so good on him!

“Wanna take me in your mouth?” Harry offered gently between breathy moans and reached after your hand to stop you. If you’d keep going like this, he would come in no time and he wanted to savour this moment.

You stared at his hard length, too deep in thoughts, stuck somewhere between awe and fear. Finally you leaned forward and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, the taste of him hitting your tastebuds immediately.

You flicked your tongue against his slit mindlessly, testing the waters, tasting him, which ended with Harry moaning loudly in response. You pulled away from him immediately, your hands flying back on his thighs, scared you did something wrong.

“Come back, baby. Sorry I scared you. I just couldn’t help myself, your mouth feels heavenly.”

Hesitantly you shuffled back and took him in your mouth again, just the few inches of many, and the rest you stroked gently with your hand.

It wasn’t long ago since you watched porn. Just for science reasons. You knew there was probably more about to happen with Harry and you didn’t want to look stupid or reckless. You knew he would never judge you, but the thoughts still lingered in your mind.

You looked up everything. A classic intercourse, something more hardcore that made you both cringe from the fake moans and sad at the sight of perfect bodies on the screen, girls receiving oral, and especially blowjobs. That was the main part of your ‘study session’.

Remembering what you saw in one video, after bobbing your head for a bit and hearing Harry enjoying it very loudly, you hollowed your cheeks and pushed him further in your mouth.

“Oh god yes!”

Trembling slightly, Harry pulled away some of the loose strands from your face and tugged them behind your ear, wanting to see your whole face while you made him feel good. Your eyes were tightly shut in concentration and drool dripped past your lips.

Ever so slowly you started taking more and more of him deeper in your mouth until his tip hit the back of your throat. You tried to relax and get used to the heaviness of him on your tongue, but instead you started gagging. You wanted to push past the feeling in determination to make Harry feel good, even when tears started falling down your cheeks, but Harry didn’t like it.

“Baby, no! Stop!” He pulled you away from his cock with a firm grip on your cheek. Not bruising, but enough to make you listen to him. “You’re hurting yourself,”

You’ve never seen him like this. In a dominant role, dark eyed with slack jaw and a disapproving frown on his lips. His voice was stern, not the sweet soft tone he used a minute before.

“I- I thought you’re gonna like it. Saw it in porn guys like it,” You hiccuped.

“Oh sweetheart,” Harry cooed at your confession, immediately loosening his grip on you, and started stroking your cheek, catching rolling tears with his thumb. “I do like it. But not if my girl is hurting,”

“No deep throating tonight, we’ll take it easy, yeah? Use just your hand now, let’s give your mouth some rest,” He ordered softly.

Still with teary eyes, you obediently nodded and wrapped your fingers around his cock. You stroked him slowly, only occasionally squeezed him or ran your thumb over his slit to collect more of his pre-cum. Nuzzling your cheek in his thigh, Harry ran his fingers through your hair in a reassuring gesture. He noticed you got scared after your unsuccessful attempt to make him feel as good as the guys in porn and wanted to calm you down.

“That’s my sweet girl. Making me feel so so so good with your little hand,”

“You’re gonna make me come soon,”

“Ah just like that,”

His praise got your heart beat faster and heat pooling in your tummy. It encouraged you to be even better for him.

“Do you want my cum, baby? I’ll allow you to use your mouth again. But you have to be good, mhm? No deep throating again,”

“Yes, can I?” You sat up straighter at his offer, your face lightening up. You’ve been wondering about how his cum would taste.

“Of course you can. Suck on me, I’m so close, love,” Harry brought your head back to his cock and ran his thumb over your bottom lip before slipping it in your mouth to press at your tongue. You sucked at his digit with focused precision, drooling around him, humming happily. He exchanged his thumb for his cock soon, pushing the tip past your plump lips, and slowly started fucking in your mouth, not too much to hurt you but enough to reach his approaching orgasm.

In no time Harry started coming. He was moaning loudly and his hips shook, a few drops of sweat were running down his forehead. His salty cum filled up your mouth, making you moan just as loudly at the taste and you tried to swallow everything, even though a bit got out and dripped down your chin.

“Fuck, yes. Such a good girl for me!” His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. You surely sucked the soul out of his body. His grip on your face loosened and he moved his hand to yours that rested on his thigh, intertwining your fingers tightly.

You kept sucking on him even after he came, knowing it could prolong the orgasm, and squeezed on his base to get more of his cum. He tasted salty, a little bitter, but oh god it made you drool.

“Uh enough, baby,” He whined at the overstimulation and pulled his cock out of your mouth, feeling it slowly softening against his tummy. “Come here, come up here,”

Quickly you got up from your knees and sat next to him on the couch. Every move was cautious and gentle, not wanting to startle him. You watched his expression, noticing every subtle change in his mimic, every flutter of his eyelashes and puffs of breath. He was so handsome it hurt.

“Was it okay? Did you like it?” You whispered, not wanting to ruin the atmosphere full of something you couldn’t quite name.

Your unsure questions made him blink his eyes open. “Did I like it? I loved it, sweetheart. The best blowie I ever got, I swear.”

Harry sneaked his arms around your waist and tucked you in his side until there was no space left between your bodies. You nuzzled your head under his chin, feeling suddenly shy. He was still sitting there half naked, without a single care in the world and cuddling you as if he just didn’t come hard.

“My sweet girl. Did her first blowie and did such a good job.”

“Ugh don’t talk about it like that!” You huffed in embarrassment.

When you agreed to go on a date with him, Stiles immediately started panicking inside. He asked you out almost as a joke because he didn’t think you’d actually say yes. Not that he didn’t want to, no, but you were so out of his league that the chances you’d say “yes” were very close to zero.

But sometimes miracles do happen.

Stiles blinked his eyes twice and exclaimed a loud “What?!”, still quite shocked that you weren’t joking… or at least he hoped you weren’t. He gulped, trying not to looked as nervous as he was feeling and he tried to think, but whenever he was under pressure his brain didn’t work and he blurt out something about going bowling for their date. He would make a fool of himself that day, but that was the perfect excuse to let you win and at least he scored a date with you which was incredible.

When Stiles got home that day he immediately texted Scott. While he was happy for him, Stiles was freaking out. He wasn’t sure what do wear, if he wanted to give you a bouquet or not, if you’d think he was being ridiculous and he wasn’t sure scared that you’d find the date boring or worse, find him boring.

Scott tried to help him as best he could and Stiles promised he wouldn’t think about what could go wrong and focus on the good things first.

Soon Saturday arrived and Stiles had taken extra care of himself that day just to look good for you. He even wore his dad’s cologne, in which Stiles almost chocked himself when he sprayed it in the wrong direction.

He wore his favourite pair of jeans with his lacrosse sweatshirt and hoped for the best.

“You’re sure you don’t want me to come with you?” Scott asks him for probably the millionth time.

Stiles shook his head: “No, I told her it would just be me and her, so… maybe next time?” He sighed: “Well if tonight won’t be a disaster and she would want to see me again, I’ll definitely ask you for help.”

Scott smiled: “Okay, well then good luck!”

Stiles thanked him quickly before heading out to pick you up.

Before heading towards your house, he stopped at a flower shop to buy a small bouquet. He knew you liked lilies and he found the perfect ones for the bouquet. He was proud of how it turned out and he couldn’t wait to give it to you.

A few moments later he did and your reaction was priceless: “Thank you, Stiles, they’re so pretty!”

Stiles blushed a little and tried to brush it off: “You’re so pretty…” He said without even noticing.

You didn’t say anything and he hoped you didn’t hear him, but you probably did and tried to ignore his words. He thought that you were embarrassed and uncomfortable by what he said so he just turned on the radio of the car so that there wouldn’t be awkward silence between you and him.

Whenever he was nervous, he found that music calmed him down and in that moment he needed it badly. He just hoped you didn’t mind…

On the way to the bowling, you didn’t speak much, but it wasn’t as uncomfortable as Stiles thought. He actually enjoyed when you both sang along to the songs, feeling a sense of familiarity and excitement and relaxation.

Soon they arrived at the venue and in no time they were ready to play.

Stiles was trying to be casual: “What if we played without a score? I don’t want to outshine you.”

You laughed and that sweet sound was something that almost made Stiles melt: “Don’t worry, I’m pretty good at bowling and I’m not going to be sad if a man beats me, which is not going to happen.”

Stiles liked your confidence way too much and he couldn’t help but smile as you picked a bowling ball. You chose a blue one, one of the heaviest they had and he was impressed and ashamed at the same time because he picked a green one that was very light in comparison.

Stiles swallowed as you got a strike on the first try and commented: “Think you can beat that?”

No he didn’t. But he tried.

His ball didn’t even reach the end of the lane that it fell off.

Stiles laughed nervously as he looked at you apologetically: “I guess I used too much energy…”

Despite his nerves and the fact that he clearly was bad at bowing, you seemed you were having fun and you didn’t care that at the end of the game you beat Stiles with a perfect score (he couldn’t say that for himself as he barely knocked down any bowling pins).

Stiles looked up at the billboard with the scores: “You must’ve tricked the game! Or are you secretly an olympic bowling player?”

“That or maybe you’re just really bad at it.” You said laughing.

“You got me… I was never good at this game, I don’t even know why I suggested to go here tonight.”

“Believe it or not, it was refreshing to see you actually lose and that you weren’t faking it to make me win because that’s the way things should go. I liked that.”

Stiles listened to your words and he was happy that you didn’t think the date was a failure: “You’re welcome,” he smiles softly “Though next time you won’t be that lucky-“

“Net time?” You interrupted him and he looked at you with wide eyes blinking a few times in realisation of what he said. Once again he spoke without thinking: “I… yes, next time as in a second date. If you want to.”

Stiles was scared you’d say no, but to his surprise you agreed to another date. And another one after that, until finally they kissed on their third date and the rest was history.

“Stiles!” A loud bang on the door startled him as he cursed under his breath.

“How long are you going to take?” Scott, his best friend, continued, annoyed that Stiles occupied the bathroom for so long.

“Just give me a minute I’m almost done.” He grins, knowing damn well that he was edging him. Stiles didn’t really have a reason to be perfect for tonight’s homecoming, while Scott did and he was furious about the fact that he was going to be late if Stiles didn’t get out of the bathroom.

When he was about to lose it again, Stiles stepped out of the bathroom with a grin on his face and Scott immediately rushed in, already complaining of the mess he left and for the fact that he was going to be late and that he most certainly would disappoint Allison if that happened, while Stiles was lost in his thoughts as he finished getting ready.

He would never admit it, but he was jealous of his best friend. Scott had a gorgeous girlfriend and smart girlfriend, good friends that always had his back (and Stiles was obviously one of them), his whole life figured out while he didn’t.

Normally he wouldn’t be bothered by it, he wouldn’t even think about it, but it was homecoming night and Stiles felt so lonely.

He agreed to go with his best friend because he convinced him it would be fun, but in reality he felt like he wouldn’t belong there.

He would probably be the third wheel all night or the opposite he would be left alone at the table while everyone else was dancing with their date at slow songs and being all romantic. Just the thought made him sick to his stomach. Stiles wasn’t the most romantic guy in the world, but he would sell his soul to be loved by someone the way he deserves.

Even though he had a date for the homecoming, he knew that the night would be boring and not funny at all. He will go with a girl he met at his history class, but it wasn’t out of romance. In fact it was a deal they made because she he wanted to make his ex boyfriend jealous and he agreed to help her. Chloe, the girl, heard Stiles complaining a lot about the fact that he didn’t have a date over the last month and she waited until the last few days to ask him. It was embarrassing for him because not only he couldn’t find a real date, but he also just was merely a medium for her purpose.

But at least he wouldn’t go alone to the homecoming, so that was a win.. right?

The trio arrived at the homecoming sooner than they expected and Scott immediately left Stiles with his date (who was already sitting on a table waiting for Stiles) to go dancing with Allison. He couldn’t blame him, he wasn’t stuck with a girl he didn’t want like Stiles. He knew that this would happen, but it still hurt him.

The first half of the night was terrible. Between Stiles and Chloe, there was an embarrassing silence and they seemed to have nothing in common, which was the truth considering that they only had one class together and Stiles only chose that course because he was forced to.

Stiles tried to talk to her sometimes, but she weren’t listening to him as she kept glancing at his ex’s direction and that annoyed Stiles a lot.

“Do you want to dance? Maybe he’ll notice you if you go to the dance floor.”

Despite her being rude with him, he tried to be polite with her, but he didn’t really want to dance or get up.

Seeing all the happy couples there, made him think that at least one of them deserved their happy endings and he truly wanted to help her with making her ex jealous.

Stiles saw Chloe nodding and so they went dancing for a song or two until her ex showed up and almost beat Stiles for dancing with Chloe and accusing him of “stealing his girl”.

She mouthed a “sorry” as she walked away with him, holding hands and acting like they never broke up.

Stiles watched them with a bittersweet smile, thinking about young love and how powerful it was. But that also reminded him that he didn’t have anyone to experience that type of love with, so he returned to his table, sighing deeply.

It didn’t seem like the night was going well…

When he lost all of his hopes for the night to turn decent, something unexpected happened.

After almost two hours of boredom, he was about to go back to his home. He had no reason to stay any longer and everyone seemed to be doing nice without him, but then he lifted his head from his phone and his eyes landed on his new reason to stay. You.

In that moment time slowed down and Stiles felt like he was alone with you in the room and all the other people disappeared.

When Stiles’ eyes met yours, he saw that you were laughing with your friends and Stiles could swear it was the most beautiful thing he ever saw and he could already imagine the sound of your laugh in his head.

“Stop drooling over strangers!” Scott calls him out, bringing him back to reality.

Stiles shook his head and tried to deny it: “I’m not- I was just looking in that direction.. at the chocolate fountain! You know i’m *really* hungry right now.”

“Your jaw was on the floor, Stiles.” Scott laughed, finding it funny. He follows his gaze and finds the girl Stiles was staring at. He whistles in appreciation to tease him: “You should go talk to her. She seems lovely.”

Stiles felt his cheeks growing red for being called out: “Oh shut up.”

His best friend just grins and push him gently towards your direction, encouraging him to walk up to you.

“Okay, okay, I got it. I’ll go.” He sighed, defeated. His only hope was to try to find the courage to talk to you.

As he was approaching you, trying to look as nonchalant at possible, in his head he imagined the worst case scenarios: he would fall in front of you and you’d make fun of him; you wouldn’t want to talk to him because you’d find him ridiculous and a loser; you’d find him awkward and annoying…

Needless to say, he was very nervous about this, but he also had high hopes for a good outcome because he wanted… no… needed this conversation to turn out all right. If it didn’t, Stiles would think he was cursed at the chance of ever finding love. Rationally, it would unlikely happen and he was just being dramatic, big a bit of drama every once in a while was necessary for Stiles.

When Stiles reached you, his heart was beating fast in his chest and he cleared his throat to gain attention: “Hi. Have we met before?”

He felt so stupid asking, but you didn’t seem to notice. You looked surprised that someone wanted to talk to you and you felt flattered by that.

Soon, the conversation went from awkward to playful, pleasant and perfect. In fact you were lovely to talk to and Stiles often found himself staring at your lips or your sparkly long dress that looked like it belonged to a princess.

The night looked just like a dream for both of them as they spent the whole time talking about everything, undisturbed as they stayed in their bubble.

Nothing else mattered but them.

He wasn’t sure how you felt but Stiles knew that he was utterly in love at the end of the night, already daydreaming of their future together and-

“Y/n! We need to go home! It’s so late.” One of your friend burst the bubble they were in and suddenly they returned to the reality.

You looked at him with sorry eyes and apologised quickly as you turned the opposite side to leave the room.

“Wait!” Stiles gently grabbed your arm before you left: “I wanted to say I was truly enchanted to meet you.”

He kissed your hand like a gentleman and from the corner of his eyes he could see your light blush. He bit his lips to hold back a smile, even if it seemed impossible.

You mumbled a quiet: “Me too” before disappearing with your friends.

For a whole minute Stiles stayed there, smiling like a idiot and thinking about what just happened.

He was so happy that everything went alright (you even appreciated his sarcasm, which made him happy) that it almost felt surreal.

He pinched himself just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

When Scott checked on him a few seconds later he immediately asked: “So.. how did it go?”

Stiles immediately told him everything. He talked about how he felt around you, how gorgeous, smart and kind you were, how the conversation was so easy with you and how much he liked you already.

Scott looked like a proud dad: “Are you going to ask her out then?”

Stiles turned pale, the blood drained from his face.

How could he be so stupid?

“I forgot to ask her phone number.” He groaned, annoyed by this inconvenience.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.

“That’s not a problem. You could ask her tomorrow, right?” Scott tried to cheer him up, but he knew that Stiles was going to beat himself up for it.

The whole way home he was unbearable as he was talking about you the whole time, slightly blushing at the thought of you. He told Allison about you and he asked if she knew you, but Allison didn’t and Stiles was slightly disappointed.

The situation got worse when he went to sleep. He tried everything, but nothing seemed to make him fall asleep.

It was 2 Am already and he was exhausted, but he couldn’t sleep because he started thinking that maybe you didn’t liked him or you had someone else and that was why you didn’t ask for his number.

Stiles rolled over in his bed because he couldn’t accept that.

He talked to the girl of his dreams and if he couldn’t have you that would’ve destroyed him.

The thought consumed him to the point he became restless.

He was determined to ask you out because he refused to believe that it was just a one time thing, no.

So he went over the interaction you two shared, to see if something could help to figure out some stuff, but nothing was helpful.

You were a big mystery that Stiles intended to solve and one day maybe he will succeed.

The next day he couldn’t wait to arrive at college and search for you everywhere. Stiles really hoped you had lessons today or else it would be really embarrassing.

Not long after, he found one of your friends that were with you yesterday at homecoming.

He asked her if you were around and she burst out laughing.

“What? What’s so funny?” He tries not to make it show but in his head he’s hoping that you don’t have a secret boyfriend or worse.

“She was actually looking for you earlier. I think she’s in cafeteria or the library.”

“Thank you!” Stiles runs to the library while your friend shouts a “Good luck” at him.

Not even a minute later Stiles reached the library. He is out of breath after running but it was worth it. You were there and Stiles was smiling so much it almost hurt. Now he just needed not to chicken out at the last minute.

“Okay Stiles, you got this” he said to himself to try to be brave.

“Y/n!” I call out for you after finally finding the courage to talk to you: “Hi!”

You smile at him sweetly like you did the day before and he melts right away.

Stiles takes a deep breath: “I had a really great time yesterday with you. And so..” he stops for a moment to check if you were about to reject him, but he only saw a big smile on your face so he kept going: “I was wondering if you maybe wanted to hang out with me this saturday? We can go to the cinema?”

As soon as he finished talking, Stiles was anxious and avoided eye contact with you, until you finally answered: “I’d love to go to the cinema with you. There’s my favourite movie at the moment, so that’s perfect.”

Stiles sighed of relief and smiled at you: “It’s a date then! I’ll pick you up at 7pm sharp, be ready!”

You knew that dating Harry also meant dating the little girl who came with him. Ema. A three-year-old copy of her father, with the same piercing green eyes, chubby cheeks, and a head full of messy chestnut curls. Overflowing with stubborn frowns and quiet watchfulness, she made you feel like you were being tested from the moment you met her. And honestly? You couldn’t really blame her. If you could, you’d try to keep Harry only to yourself too.

Harry was fiercely protective over his daughter, his little treasure, as he called her, along with a million other nicknames that made your heart skip a beat every time.

You didn’t know much about her mother. He had only mentioned her briefly, once or twice, and not wanting to pry, you let it slide. After all, it wasn’t your place to ask. Maybe in time.

When Ema happened, Harry hadn’t been ready for fatherhood. He thought kids would come at least 5 years later, maybe more, not at the age of 30. His whole life was work and business, not babies. Some days he still felt like a teenager himself! Life had thrown a lot at him early on, but he took it all, even if it meant shedding a few tears along the way. And yet, he couldn’t have been happier. His little sunshine turned his mostly stereotypical life upside down. Turned him upside down.

Gone were the nights of wine, replaced with baby formula, 70s rock music changed into lullabies, nonfiction books were swapped for picture books and his polished suits got shoved in the back of the wardrobe in favour of plain shirts (that he had to change multiples times a day anyway, because he and his daughter were messy people).

At first, Harry stayed at home with his little girl until she was old enough for kindergarten. He was wealthy enough to afford this luxury, choosing to watch Ema grow every day. But he was a businessman at heart, and even on paternity leave, he couldn’t help himself. A contract here, a quick visit to his office there, until his assistant had to kick him out after “just a few minutes” turned into an hour, with Ema playing between stacks of important documents.

After Ema celebrated her third birthday and started visiting kindergarten more regularly, without any fussing in the mornings and sleeping for the whole time after lunch, Harry started feeling the creeping of loneliness. He knew Ema needed to play with other kids and socialize, to learn and experience things on her own without his helping hand. But it didn’t stop him from missing her terribly and squeezing her little body tightly in his arms each time he came to pick her up after work. ”You’re silly, daddy!” She laughed loudly every time.

One interview for a world-famous magazine about Harry’s huge impact was at the start of you and him. Three hours of talking turned into exchanged numbers and whispered promises of a date, filled just the night after. Who would have thought that a journalist with an ordinary life could mesmerise a successful man who could’ve had any other woman?

The bond of trust between you two formed almost instantly. He was consumed by you. One look and he was a goner. There was no need to put an effort in perfect makeup and flawless curls, he had already fallen in love with you on day one. The girl with a big coffee stain on her shirt, hair messier than a bird’s nest and not even a hint of mascara because she’d been running late.

Harry was desperate for your first date. That much was certain. There was something so beautiful about you, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, that he had to discover, to claim. He wanted you so badly, his heart ached with it. He made a reservation at the finest restaurant in the city, making sure it would be just the two of you in the whole place. He brought you a huge bouquet of flowers, with a small note ’their beauty smells like you’. He remembered the afternoon you were leaving his office and he smelled your perfume as he kissed your cheek goodbye and your sweet flowery scent hit him hard.

No other woman had caught him the way you did. And oh boy, he was all in. He tossed aside every rational thought that should’ve held him back for his sake and Ema’s. Because the thought of life without you in the picture felt impossible. He didn’t want to flip through photo albums years from now and not see your pretty face there. Call him crazy, but he was determined to have you. He needed you.

Your smile lit up the whole room, even during the inner storm. The effortless elegance that seemed to follow you everywhere you went, the kindness that felt almost unreal every time you spoke. It was all too much. You were it for him. And he didn't even need to know you, because somehow, he already did. Maybe it was the absence of woman's presence, the hormones messing with him, or the longing for love, for giving Ema a mother figure, and himself a wife. But in the end, did it really matter what the reason was? He knew he wanted you, and that was enough.

By the second date, you understood how delicate the relationship you were in the process of building was. It was also the first time Harry told you about Ema, because in his words, “I didn’t want to scare you off, you are too precious to lose”. And it made you fall for him even harder. He treated you like a goddess you in his eyes were. All soft touches and sweet words, he could never settle for less.

After you started seeing each other more regularly, he became truly obsessed with you. His generosity was intensive as if he was trying to fill every corner of your life with reminders of him. A surprise delivery of flowers here, perfumes there, a lovely set of lingerie in the burgundy colour you mentioned just once in front of him delivered right to your apartment.

When you made your relationship official, he bought you the golden necklace you eyed for so long in the small jewellery shop near your block, and made you cry so hard for the first time in front of him.

“I swear you are crazy, Harry,” You sobbed into his suit-covered shoulder, staining it slightly with your tears mixed with mascara.

“Only crazy for my girl,” Harry murmured softly as he kissed your hair, making you cry even more in response. You’ve never felt this loved before.

Yet after all this time, you still hadn’t met the reason of his restless nights, the bright mornings and toys he nursed in his leather briefcase to work. You knew Ema only from photos he shared with you and all the stories that made him smile widely every time he talked about her.

One evening, when he invited you to stay for a night, you finally decided to ask him the question that’s been gnawing on your mind for a while. “Does Ema know about me?”

She was staying with his sister Gemma for the weekend so he could have some alone time with you that wasn't just a few hours per week you usually found on each other given your busy jobs and Harry’s family situation.

The question came unexpectedly. You were snuggled on the big velvet couch under the shield of a fuzzy blanket in each other’s arms, a romantic comedy playing on the TV, creating a relaxing atmosphere.

Harry, caught mid-sip of his red wine, froze. “I umh… well, I’ve mentioned you a few times. I’ve shown her your pictures, tried to hint at us. But you know how she is…”

Ema was daddy’s girl. And he belonged to her only. He was her sun, her moon, and the only person allowed to tie her shoes. She was a little girl. She didn’t understand the world yet, but the idea of sharing Harry’s lap, hugs, or his attention with another woman was a foreign concept he feared would end in a heartbreak.

“You know I respect your boundaries as a parent, Harry. I do,” You sat up straighter next to him, pulling away from the warmth of his chest to look him in the eye. “But shouldn’t she know about me? We’ve been dating for 6 months,”

“I know. I know, baby. She should know.” Harry sighed and tightened his grip around your waist, pulling you back in his side immediately. Your closeness comforted him in a way he couldn’t explain and he buried his face in the crook of your neck to soothe his nerves. “I’m gonna tell her. I promise. I need you in our lives.”

The soft peck on your lips that followed made you blush as well as his words. At this point, you were used to his heartfelt confessions and affectionate touches but it always brought flush to your cheeks and made butterflies fly wildly in your stomach.

But not everything went as Harry planned. It went completely the other way. He wanted to ease Ema into the big change slowly. Having another person around was a serious thing he didn’t want to take lightly. But his job made it’s significant presence in the worst moment.

Harry was in his office, the skyline of London sprawling behind the floor to ceiling windows. He was packing his briefcase, done for the day. A small smile played on his lips as he thought about his daughter he was about to pick up from the kindergarten, excited to see her again, when his assistant, Veronica, stormed in the room.

“Patrick Stevenson is here!” She panted, her knuckles white as she gripped the doorframe.

The echo of the name made Harry stop in his tracks. Stevenson was a businessman of similar power as Harry’s. He was a titan, not really a rival but a best friend neither. His signature on a contract could mean the best deal of the century as well as an amazing partnership between the two men. Harry had been chasing this meeting for months.

“What? But he didn’t have a scheduled meeting, did he?” Harry slowly set a stack of documents back down on the wooden table, sparing Veronica a confused look.

“No, no, came unannounced. He’s waiting in the conference room right now.” Veronica shook her head a few times and stepped further into Harry’s office, closing the door behind her so no one could overhear them.

“Fuck but I have to pick up Ema! The kindergarten closes in- 30 minutes…” He sighed when he noticed the little hand on the clock by the door slowly reaching number four and ran a hand over his face in frustration. He promised Ema to be on time since she was staying there longer than usual and he knew too well how his little girl was. All pouts and hiccups when she missed him a little bit more.

“I could pick her-” Veronica started, but Harry’s sharp voice cut her off before she could even finish a thought. He hated prioritizing work over his daughter.

“No, I need you here with me. I- just give me five minutes, okay? Go get him water, or wine, or whatever he wants…” He waved at her dismissively and waited until she disappeared before he picked up his phone, his fingers flying quickly across the screen. His mom lived three hours away, there was no way she could pick Ema up, and his sister had a swimming lesson with her daughter. There was only one last option.

“Hey, baby, are you free right now? It's an emergency,” Harry rushed out as he paced around his office anxiously, the rhythmic thud of his polished shoes echoing in the otherwise quiet room.

“Harry, what’s going on? Is everything okay? Is Ema alright?” The worry in your voice clear as day, making Harry’s chest tighten with guilt.

“We’re okay. Sort of. You remember the Stevenson guy I was talking about the other day? He just appeared here. For a meeting. And you know how good this deal could be for us but- I can’t pick up Ema from kindergarten.” He sunk into the leather chair, rubbing a hand over his stubbled cheeks in distress.

“Oh I can pick her up. It’s no problem. She knows how I look right? I don’t want her to panic or something,” You sprung from your chair so fast you almost tripped over your feet and threw a hoodie on. Ema’s kindergarten wasn’t far away from your apartment and Harry’s office. You walked around the place often even before you started dating Harry, always admiring the garden and playgrounds.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry. She knows you’re my girl,” Harry let out a sigh, a mixture of relief and sadness swirling in his gut, “I’m sorry this is how you’re gonna meet her, I really wanted it to be more special, not rushed and hectic,”

“It’s not your fault, Harry,” You murmured in the reassuring tone that always got to Harry, soothing every single worry that was left in his head and tension in his body, “I’m happy I can help. Now go make the deal, yeah? I’ve got her,”

“Yeah,” He laughed quietly at the encouragement, “Come to mine office after you pick her up. I know I’m saying this all the time, but you’re an angel, my love. Thank you,”

It didn’t take you long before you were standing in the doorway of Ema’s kindergarten. The building looked like it was made in the last century, but was freshly renovated. You were surprised Ema wasn’t in the top-notch place with a silver spoon in her mouth but rather normal surroundings. Ema’s education was really important to Harry and just because he had the privilege of a wealthy life, he didn’t want to raise a spoiled brat. He wanted her grounded, not crying every time she didn’t get everything she wanted.

“Hello, I’m here for Ema Styles,” You smiled brightly at the teacher. She looked about the same age as you, and she greeted you excitedly.

“Oh yes! Mr. Styles called ahead. Ema is already waiting on you!” She pointed at the small table where she was sitting, clutching a crayon in her small fist, finishing her drawing. “ Ema your- you can go home finally!”

The call of her name got Ema’s attention and she looked up from the paper, her pigtails bobbing slightly when she looked up at you. Her expression was blank, her green eyes unreadable. She didn’t smile or cry. Without saying anything, she got up and started getting dressed all by herself.

“Hello,” She said to you quietly when you stepped out onto the London pavement. She had a purple sweater on, partially hiding her light pink dress, and pink ballet flats, the picture she drew in her hand. Harry loved to dress her up like a proper princess. “Made this for daddy,”

“That’s beautiful, Em! Daddy’s gonna love it. Puts it in a frame and on a wall for sure!” You crouched down to her eye level and looked at the paper. The drawing was a chaotic mess of lines and circles in bright colours, but you could make out two stick figures holding hands, resembling the picture of her and Harry.

You walked mostly in silence to Harry’s office. You tried to have a conversation with her, asked her various questions from “What did you have for lunch?” to “What is your favourite animal?” but her answers were short, barely any. It’s been ages since you took care of a child. You couldn’t mess this up!

The skyscraper where Harry’s office was stood right in front of you just over the street, it’s top hidden somewhere between the clouds. “C’mon Ema, we’re almost here!” You took her small hand in yours when you reached the crosswalk, the evening rush hour at its peak.

But Ema didn’t like this. In the split of a second she pulled at your hand and bit down on the flesh of your wrist.

“Ema! Ouch!” You gasped, pulling your hand away to check the mark. The half moons of her teeth cut deep in your skin, some of them drawing blood. Ema didn't look sorry at all. She looked defiant, her lower lip trembling as she clutched her drawing tighter.

You didn’t dare to scold her, nor touch her. Your hand throbbed in pain for the rest of the walk and the ride in the elevator, a painful reminder of her territorial love for her father.

“There are my girls!” Harry walked in his office with a wide, yet slightly tired smile about an hour later, his tie loosened at the collar. You were sitting in the leather armchair that was probably more expensive than your whole kitchen, watching Ema play on the couch with the toys she had there.

“Daddy!” She shrieked, running into his open arms. Harry caught her mid-air, spinning her around as she erupted into peals of delighted laughter. The cold, silent child from the walk was gone, replaced by a radiant, giggly girl.

“Hey, my darling,” He murmured, kissing her forehead before walking over to you. He tucked Ema under one arm and used the other to pull you into a brief but firm kiss. “Thank you so much, baby... Was she a good girl?”

“Mhm, yeah she was,” You lied at his question and tugged at the sleeve of your hoodie to hide the mark Ema imprinted on you from Harry, forcing a small smile instead. “I should probably get going, though. I still have to finish some articles and umh, I can see someone missed you a lot,”

“You don’t want to grab dinner with us? I wanted to celebrate the deal with both of you!” Harry pouted at you, his thumb grazing your cheek. He could see you weren’t completely at ease, but he didn’t want to push it. After the few months of dating, he knew your body language like the back of his hand as well as every sign of your uneasiness.

“Would love to, but I really can’t. Call me later?” You got up on your feet and gently rubbed his arm, hoping he would let it go.

“Okay,… text me when you get home then,” He pulled you in another kiss that lasted just a few moments before Ema decided to disturb you with an insistent tugs at Harry’s shirt, clearly wanting attention again, making you pull away with a sad smile.

Not having sex with Harry was torturing yet a respectful and delicate thing at the same time. Even though he was head over heels for you, he was taking this part of your relationship very seriously, though his hands and eyes slipped more than once. During your steamy makeouts, he gripped on your waist a little more tightly, or even let his hands wander underneath your shirt. When you were straddling his lap, he buckled his hips to meet yours, creating some friction. And a few times he even gripped on your breasts, which made you giggle. He loved to mark your skin, dig his fingers in your flesh, cling to you until you had to pull him off. You didn’t have many chances to do something more, but when you did, it had you ruined.

It took Harry many relentless attempts before you finally found the courage and agreed on staying over again, for the first time with Ema under the same roof, especially after her angry bite he still didn’t know about. He bought the excuse within the first second and smothered your hand in soothing kisses, living in the reality your friend’s dog attacked you.

You had a ‘family’ dinner first. Harry was the one who talked most of the time but neither of you seemed to mind. He was in his element. He told animated stories about his work, adjusted just slightly so Ema could understand it too, and enjoyed spending the evening with people he loved the most.

After that, Harry was quick to usher Ema in bed. He didn’t want to neglect her but he was so excited about you he couldn’t contain himself. He pulled her dress over her head quickly, making her curls bounce around her face as he searched for her pyjamas with unicorns.

“Daddy,” She squirmed in her bed from the sudden cold and wrapped her arms around her body to warm herself.

“I’m coming, sweetheart! Adorable unicorns for an adorable girl!” He huffed out a laugh and kneeled back in front of her on the floor, helping her dress up. He knew all too well she was clever to do it all herself but he wanted to save some time.

“Read me?” She pouted when he tugged the little pair of leggings on her wiggly legs and smoothed the wrinkled fabric with his palm.

“A story?” He let out a sigh, but smiled immediately, not wanting to look annoyed with her.

“Mhm. From grandma,” Ema crawled over her bed to hand Harry the book her grandma, Anne, wrote. She fell in love with it immediately after Anne read it to her for the first time, and ever since then Ema demanded it from Harry.

“Okay, but just one chapter, yes?” Harry took the book from her and ran the back of his hand over her cheek. “Now get under the covers, bug, so I can start,”

To Harry’s luck, she was out like a light by the third page and with a good night kiss to her forehead and a whisper of “I love you”, he turned the moon shaped lamp on her bedside table off and closed the door of her room with a quiet thud.

You were just getting out of the ensuite bathroom, your body wrapped in a fuzzy towel Harry got warmed up on the radiator for you, steam followed you out of the door as you patted your hair dry.

The shelves in the shower were full of fancy sounding bottles bought just for you to make you feel at home, or like a princess given the expensive brands from Dior to other French and Italian names you've never heard before and could only dream about with your paycheque. In Harry’s eyes, it was the bare minute he could do for you.

Your body smelled like orange blossom, creamy vanilla and cedar. A mix you found made Harry feral.

Suddenly a solid weight pressed against you from behind, strong tattooed arms sneaked around your middle and held you in a firm grip against his chest. “Did you have a nice shower, love?”

“Mhm” You hummed with a soft smile he couldn’t see, and slowly turned around in his arms so you could see him. “Really nice,”

“You used the body wash I bought you, didn’t ya? You smell,” Harry buried his nose in the crook of your neck and took a long whiff, basking in the smell of your freshly washed body. “Divine. Delicious even. So good for me.”

You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close as he pulled you up in the air, making you squeal and kick your legs. “Harry! Ema is right down the hall!”

“So responsible,” He moaned in your skin and set you down on the king sized bed, his body hovering over yours in no time, his knees parting your legs. He trailed kisses all over your neck and jaw before he settled on your lips, kissing you deeply.

“Yeah, that’s why you should keep little Harry in your oh-“ You whimpered in his mouth when you felt his bulge press against your thigh, excitement obviously proud in his sweatpants.

“Baby,” Harry huffed like a child that couldn’t have his lolly and tightened his grip around your waist in protest, not wanting to let you go, preferably ever. “Please. We’ll just have to be quiet,”

“What’s got into you?” You grinned at his eagerness. You’ve never seen him this giddy. His fingers shook and little moans escaped his lips with every grind of his hips against yours. You cupped his cheeks with your hands, the stubble stung your palms pleasingly as you turned his head to look at you.

“I don’t know. You- you just smell so nice! And I’ve been thinking a lot about this, us, and we’ve been together for so long… I want to move our relationship on another level,” Harry murmured, his voice taking on almost a shy tone.

You haven’t done more than cunnilingus, fingering or blowjobs. Harry was very strict about sex. He knew the birth controls nowadays were very effective and with minimal chances of getting pregnant, but he needed the assurance of your relationship. It was a living hell for him and his cock, he couldn’t count the number of times he jerked off to the images of you, but he didn’t want to risk unplanned pregnancy too.

“Yeah?” Your cheeks turned red at his confession, “Are you sure? You know I don’t mind doing just the other things, we don’t have to have sex,”

“No, no, no,” He shook his head abruptly and covered your hand on his cheeks with his own, keeping it in its place. “I want to make love to you,”

You leaned forward and pecked the corner of his mouth softly before focusing on the centre of his lips and kissed him deeply, trying to communicate the love and care your heart held for him.

“Is that a yes?” He nuzzled his nose in your cheek and pressed a few kisses behind.

“But we really have to be quiet. I don’t want to traumatise Ema on our first time,” Your hands slowly moved over his broad chest and under the hem of his worn out shirt, tracing his abs with your pointer finger before you tugged his shirt over his head and threw it somewhere on the floor..

“I’m so lucky,” Harry sat down on his shins only to take a look at you sprawled underneath him, your body hidden just under the fuzzy material of the towel. “Such a beautiful girl and all mine,”

He toyed with the edge of the towel before tugging at it lightly, unwrapping you like a gift on a Christmas Day. Your nipples perked up at the hit of cold air, goosebumps appearing on your skin immediately.

“Oh and look at those tits,” Harry groaned and dived in without even checking with you. He needed his mouth on your skin like oxygen for breathing. He wrapped his lips around your nipple and started sucking as he palmed on your other breast.

You wrapped your legs around his middle, digging your heels in his lower back, keeping him as close as possible. Your back arched from the mattress at the feeling of his tongue on your sensitive bud and you let out a quiet moan.

“Daddy?” The small, tiny voice from the doorway was like a bucket of ice water.

“Fuck,” Harry cursed under his breath and rested his forehead against your shoulder to contain himself.

He was so excited about spending the night with you in a new way. Not just with his head between your legs, but also with his cock filling you up to the brim. It’s been more than three years since he had sex.

You scrambled up under Harry and immediately wrapped the towel back around your body, your face flaming hot, as you hid yourself from the innocent eyes of the little girl.

“Hey, bug. What’s wrong?” He sighed and pulled away from you when he was sure you were decently covered.

“Can’t sleep,” Ema stuck out her bottom lip, pouting at Harry with the biggest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen. It wasn’t something new for her. She had a few sleepless nights and craved the warmth and comfort of her dad from time to time. Just like tonight.

“Oh baby,” Harry stood up from the bed and obtrusively tugged at the fabric of his sweatpants around his crotch, trying to hide the tent a group of scouts could camp under, before he crouched in front of her.

You used this moment to change into something and took Harry’s discarded shirt from the floor and put it on, accompanying it with a pair of fresh panties.

The steamy night was officially over. You didn’t mind Ema staying with the two of you. At the end of the day she was still Harry’s daughter and the most important little human, but deep down you feared her, as if you had to be on your toes any time you were in her presence.

“Get in the bed then, you can sleep with us tonight, yeah?” He encouraged her softly with a gentle rub on her shoulder and stood back up, making his way to you.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I will make it up to you. A weekend, just the two of us, this little monster at my mum’s or sister’s,” Harry pecked your lips, his hands cradling your face gently. “Now get in the bed too so we can cuddle,”

You moved to the edge of the mattress to give her space, letting Ema take up the whole middle Ema, but she didn’t want your generosity. As she climbed in, her small foot lashed out, a deliberate, sharp kick landing right in your stomach, making you cry out in pain.

“Oi, little girl! What was that?!” Harry’s voice raised to the tone you only heard him use in work, but never with his daughter. He rounded the bed quickly, his expression stern.

“We don’t kick other’s, it could really hurt them. This wasn’t nice from you. And here I was thinking you could get extra cuddles tonight, but I’m not really sure you deserve them now when I saw this.” He shook his head disapprovingly and rested his hand gently on her back.

“Sorry, daddy,” Ema whispered, her gaze dropping to her lap.

“No, sweets. Don’t be sorry to me. Why did you do that?” Harry brushed a few messy locks from his daughter’s forehead as he held her close to his side with his free hand. He had a frown on his lips and his brows were furrowed, a clear disappointment by what his daughter did to you was written all over his face. Ema never acted like this. She was always a sweet and kind girl, just like Harry raised her. This behaviour didn't make any sense to him.

Ema only shook her head in an answer and wrapped her chubby arms around Harry’s torso, burying her face in his bare chest. He looked up from his daughter back at you with confused expression, not really sure how to deal with the situation on his hands, and only subconsciously tightened his grip around her small tired body and pressed her closer in his side in an attempt to soothe both of them.

“Remember what we said, darling? That we treat each other with kindness and respect? If you don’t want to talk about it right now, okay, it’s past your bedtime anyway... But we are gonna have a big talk tomorrow. I won’t let this slide. Can we agree on that, sweetheart?”

You watched Harry handle this unusual situation with grace and calm mind, his patience not flinching at all, not even for a split of a second. And you slowly started to realise that maybe you were the cause of Ema’s behaviour.

Every single bone in your body screamed ’leave!’ at you. You were stuck in your thoughts and Harry’s bed, unable to do anything. Staying made you feel bad because of Ema but leaving would hurt Harry.

In no time, Ema’s body grew limp against him and quiet snores were escaping her lips, signalling she was soundly asleep again. You watched the situation that normally made you coo with a heavy heart, knowing this all was your fault.

“I have a hard on,” Harry mouthed when he was sure his daughter was out like a light, and stuck his bottom lip out enough to pout at you.

The corners of your mouth quirked up slightly at the reassuring revelation that Harry wasn’t mad at you, but the clear opposite. You let out a quiet chuckle at the irony and looked down in your lap, your cheeks turning a tint red.

“Come here,” He laid back in the silky pillows with Ema half sprawled over his bare chest and made a grabby hand, pulling you in his free side. His strong tattooed arm sneaked around your shoulders and cradled you close to him, his lips found the crown of your head and pressed a kiss there. He could tell you were a little thrown off by Ema and wanted to soothe your worries. “I’m so sorry, baby”

“It’s okay,” You let out a long sigh and nuzzled in the croak of his neck, hiding under his chin. You still felt a shooting pain in your stomach, sure there would be a big bruise, but tried to overcome it. You had a perfect view on Ema, her face lacking the anger and envy she held against you a few minutes ago. It almost made you tear up. You wanted this little girl to love you just as much as you already loved her.

“It is not okay. She can’t hurt my girlfriend. That is forbidden in my book.” Harry huffed. It was obvious in his tone how upset he was, even though he tried to hide it for both yours and Ema’s sake.

“I swear she’d never kicked anyone. She’s always been a good girl.” He added, now much more quietly, as if he had to convince you.

“I’m not mad at her, Harry,” You mumbled against the skin of his neck in reassurance, but maybe the words were meant more for you than him.

“She’ll come around, I promise…” The words were determined, but you could hear a hint of uncertainty somewhere between the syllables. Harry took your hand in his gently, your fingers soft against his rough ones, and covered Ema’s curled fist that’s been resting in the middle of his chest with it. “She’s gonna love you before we both know it.”

The talk came right after breakfast. You were planning on leaving as soon as you could after opening your eyes, not wanting to make Ema even more upset, but Harry insisted on your presence and the apology Ema had to give you.

“So,” Harry started after all tummies were full and the dishes were cleaned up. “What are you gonna tell me about last night, Ema?”

The three of you were sitting together in the living room on an L-shaped couch, you by Harry’s side, his grip around your waist tight enough to prevent you from pulling away, and Ema across from you. This was the first time Harry had to have such a talk with his daughter. His hands were sweating a bit and his knee was shaking as he was thinking about how to approach this situation.

“I’m sorry, daddy,” She mumbled with a quiet sigh and looked down at Mr. Snuggles, her plush bunny you gave her, in her lap.

“Sweetheart,” He tutted at her apology, “Why did you kick her? You know this isn’t nice. I’m very disappointed.”

Ema stayed quiet, her gaze focused only on her bunny, not daring to look up and show her tears filled eyes. Harry didn’t pressure her to talk, he knew he had to give her little mind some space.

“You like her more,” Ema whispered finally.

The quiet confession broke Harry’s heart. He knew jealousy could play a part here, but not in that significant amount.

“Ema…” Harry murmured her name sadly, his arm tightening subconsciously around you at the revelation. “I love you both so much, and you both make me so damn happy, bug. And it doesn’t mean I love one of you more or less.”

You watched the quiet exchange with bated breath and guilt creeping up your back. The last thing you wanted was to have Ema feel like this about you.

“Come closer, gimme a snuggle, darling,” He reached out his free hand to her and patiently waited until she crawled over and hid in his chest.

“I want her to live with us someday, be a proper family,” Both of yours and Ema’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise at Harry’s words, not expecting this in the slightest, but he didn’t seem to care or notice and only cradled Ema closer. “Wouldn’t you want that too? Be a big happy family?”

“Like Olivia’s family?”

“Yeah,” Harry let out a small laugh at her question about her friend from kindergarten she spent a few afternoons with, “We could have a mommy too, you know, like Olivia has,”

“Do you love me, daddy?” She asked in a small voice, her lips quivering with tears she was trying to fight.

“I love you so so so so so much, Ema. You’re my sweet girl, my little treasure,” He murmured in her curls, still untamed and messy just like his own. “Remember this, okay? I’m gonna love you forever,”

“Does she love me?” Ema peeked up at you. Her eyes were glassy and lips dropped in the most heart breaking pout that would make you give this girl the whole world. Harry followed her gaze and turned his head himself, watching you with a hopeful expression.

“I love you too, Ema.” You said softly, as if a louder tone could startle her, and hesitantly reached up to cup her cheek. “I don’t want to make you sad, sweetheart. And I don’t want to take your daddy from you. But he makes me happy too, just like you. Maybe we could share him?”

The almost silly offer lingered in the air filled with nothing but quiet sighs and your breathing for a few moments. Harry’s eyes were moving between you and his daughter as if he was watching a tennis match, not wanting to miss a single emotion and reaction from either of you. And then finally, Ema nodded.

“Okay,” She took the peace offering with a small nod and covered your hand with her smaller one on her cheek.

“One more thing Ems,” Harry gave her little body a squeeze. The main point of this conversation still unfulfilled.

“I am sorry for kicking you,” Ema whispered with a sad pout.

“Thank you, Ema. I forgive you.” You said and ran your fingers through her hair, tugging a loose strand behind her ear.