queso

Her boss smirked. “But this one’s different.”

Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Okay, fine,” her boss said, leaning against the doorframe with the smug energy of someone holding back a better reason. “Well… I did hear a little rumor that Harry might show up.”

That got her attention.

Y/N sat up straighter, trying not to look interested. “Harry who?”

Her boss blinked slowly. “You’re hilarious.”

“I thought he was in Milan.”

“That’s what everyone thought. But someone from PR said he flew in this morning.”

Y/N hesitated. Not because she was starstruck, but because she didn’t exactly want to meet the man whose name sat on her paycheck. The mystery of Harry Styles had worked in her favor so far. She’d done her job, made something sleek and stunning, and no one micromanaged her from the top floor. Especially not him.

Still, the thought of him being in the same room… watching people hold her design like it was something sacred…

Her boss grinned. “So. You’ll come?”

Y/N shrugged, but the smallest smile tugged at her lips. “Maybe.”

Y/N didn’t plan on going.

She told herself that more than once as she rinsed the remnants of her dinner plate and set it carefully on the rack to dry. She wasn’t avoiding the party. She just hadn’t decided. That was different.

Her apartment was dim, peaceful. A candle burned on the windowsill. Her cat purred against her ankle as if begging her to sit down, stay home, and be reasonable.

But her eyes kept drifting to the time.

8:03.

The party had already started. This meant that people were probably milling around the showroom by now, sipping cocktails and admiring the design she’d spent seven months perfecting. A few might be whispering about it. Laughing. Some would be filming it for Instagram, testing the different vibration patterns with their fingertips like it was a novelty instead of a labor of obsession.

It was strange, watching your work become something public. Intimate and impersonal all at once.

She crossed the apartment barefoot and opened her closet without thinking.

She didn’t want to look like she was trying too hard. But she also didn’t want to fade into the background. She was proud of what she’d made—of how quietly powerful the product was, how good it felt in the hand, how beautiful it looked on a nightstand. It didn’t beg for attention. It didn’t need to.

She wanted to match that energy.

She bypassed the usual workwear. No slacks. No sensible blouse. Instead, she reached for a dress she hadn’t worn in months—a deep red satin, cut on the bias with delicate straps and a low back. Simple but striking. It hugged her hips like it remembered how they moved.

She stepped into it and smoothed the fabric over her thighs. Then she pulled her hair up into a loose, lazy twist, letting a few strands fall on purpose.

She kept her makeup clean, but she hesitated when she reached for lipstick.

Then she picked the bold one.

Not for anyone else. Just because she liked how it made her feel.

When she finished dressing, her phone buzzed with a message from her boss.

8:12 PM [Boss]: Your baby is the star of the night. People are losing their minds. Champagne’s flowing. See for yourself.

Y/N stared at it for a beat, then set her phone down.

She fed the cat, grabbed her coat, and headed for the door.

This wasn’t about networking. Or making an appearance. Or rumors.

It was about showing up for what she built with her hands.

And maybe, if the night was kind, having one more glass of champagne than she should.

The first thing she noticed was the lighting.

Warm, low, intentional—gold against velvet, shadows curling into corners. It didn’t feel like a corporate event. It felt like a gallery. A lounge. Maybe even a secret.

Music drifted low under the clink of glasses and murmured conversation. Not loud enough to fill the space, just loud enough to loosen it. People leaned close to hear each other. Laughed softly. Stared at the central display like it might do something if they looked long enough.

And there it was.

The product.

Perched in a curved glass case like a sculpture—lit from beneath, casting delicate reflections onto the velvet-covered table. Her prototype. Her baby.

Y/N hovered near the edge of the room, shrugging off her coat and folding it neatly over her arm before slipping it into a corner. No one noticed her yet, which she didn’t mind. She liked seeing it like this—her design surrounded by chatter and champagne, the whole night wrapped around something she made.

She moved toward the bar slowly, letting herself observe.

Someone pointed at the vibrator and whispered, “That’s the one I told you about. The curved tip? It’s unreal.”

“Is it heavy?” the other woman asked.

“Nah, it’s perfect. It feels like—I don’t know. It knows what it’s doing.”

Y/N smiled to herself.

She ordered a glass of sparkling wine at the bar and leaned against the marble edge, surveying the room as she sipped. Faces she half-recognized floated past—editors, influencers, colleagues dressed just slightly edgier than they did in the office. Everyone glowed under the amber light.

A few people passed her with nods or polite hellos. One of the junior engineers gave her a wide grin and mouthed, We did it.

She raised her glass.

She was halfway through her drink when a voice beside her said, “Can I ask you something?”

She turned.

It was a woman she didn’t know—tall, striking, clutching a coupe glass with perfectly manicured fingers. She looked like she belonged in a campaign shoot.

“Sure,” Y/N said, curious.

“Did you work on it?”

Y/N blinked. “On…?”

The woman nodded toward the center display. “The toy.”

Y/N smiled faintly. “Yeah. I did.”

The woman’s mouth dropped open. “Seriously?”

Y/N nodded.

“Well,” she said, tipping her glass in salute, “my girlfriend came three times in one night and won’t shut up about it, so—thank you for your service.”

Y/N laughed. “Happy to help.”

“You deserve a raise.”

“I’ll pass that along.”

The woman grinned and disappeared into the crowd.

Y/N turned back toward the bar, still smiling. She felt good, not in a look-at-me way, but in that rare, steady way that came from seeing something through. Quiet pride blooming in her chest like heat. Like a buzz under her skin.

She was halfway through a second sip when something shifted slightly in the room's energy. A hush, not quite a silence. The kind that travels like static.

And when she glanced up, she saw it.

Not him. Not right away.

Just the way heads turned near the entrance. Like gravity had tilted.

She felt him before she saw him.

Not in any magical way—just a shift. A ripple in the room’s rhythm. Like someone had cracked a window and let in something warmer.

Y/N turned her head and caught a glimpse of him near the entrance.

Harry Styles.

He didn’t make an entrance. He just… arrived. A black silk shirt clung softly to his frame, the top few buttons undone like he’d decided collars were optional. His hair curled at the edges, slightly unruly in a way that looked too perfect to be accidental. His sleeves were pushed up, revealing tanned forearms and several rings that caught the soft light.

He smiled at someone as he passed—small, easy, familiar. He didn’t glide through the room so much as settle into it, like it adjusted around him.

She turned back to her drink, heart ticking a little faster, but she didn’t let herself watch him.

Until he appeared beside her.

“Hi,” he said, and his voice was deeper than she expected—gentle, like it wasn’t meant for anyone else.

She looked up, caught off guard. “Oh. Hi.”

He smiled, just slightly. “Sorry to bother. I was told I should meet the genius behind the main attraction.”

Her brows lifted, surprised. “Genius is… generous.”

He glanced at the display. “Not from what I’ve heard.”

She felt her cheeks warm. “I just helped design it. There were a lot of people involved.”

He nodded. “Still. You made something people are talking about—in a room full of people who talk too much.”

That made her laugh under her breath.

“I’m Harry, by the way,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

“I know,” she said softly, then immediately followed with, “I mean—I work here. Not, like… not in a weird way.”

His smile deepened. “I didn’t think it was.”

She let her eyes drop to her glass. “I’m Y/N.”

He repeated it like a secret. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

The space between them hummed quietly. Not rushed. Just aware.

“Do you… Come to these launches often?” she asked, half-joking, just to say something.

He gave her a look. “That was bad.”

“Really bad,” she agreed, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“First one I’ve shown up to,” he said, eyes still on hers. “Figured this was the one to see.”

Her voice softened. “Glad you made it.”

He looked like he might say something more, but didn’t right away. Instead, he let the silence stretch between them, warm and full of something neither had named yet.

Then he nodded toward her nearly empty glass. “Can I get you another?”

She hesitated, then gave the slightest nod. “Sure.”

And when he stepped away toward the bar, she found herself smiling.

Not because it was him.

But something about how he looked at her made her feel seen.

He returned with two glasses, holding one out to her with a small, almost boyish smile. “Wasn’t sure what you were drinking. Took a guess.”

She accepted it, fingers brushing his for the second time that night. “Good guess.”

Harry glanced around the room, then leaned in slightly. “Would you mind if we stepped away for a minute? It’s a bit loud in here.”

Her heart ticked up, just slightly. “Sure.”

He didn’t guide her with a hand on her back or anything like that—just walked beside her, quiet and unhurried, as they slipped through the velvet-curtained archway near the bar. On the other side was a smaller lounge area—less lighting, fewer people. Just low couches, scattered candles, and a window cracked open to the sound of the city outside.

No one else was in the room.

She hovered near the edge, unsure whether to sit. He did first, dropping into a curved chair with a low exhale, stretching out like he belonged there. Then he looked up at her.

“Come on,” he said, nodding to the seat across from him. “Won’t bite.”

She sat, tucking her legs neatly and crossing her ankles. The hem of her dress slipped a little higher on her thigh, but she didn’t fidget. He wasn’t staring. He was watching her.

“So,” he said, resting his glass against his knee. “I meant it, by the way. I really did want to get your perspective.”

She smiled a little, setting her glass on the low table between them. “About the product?”

“Yeah.” He tilted his head. “I mean… You probably don’t get to talk about it much in a way that isn’t all—spec sheets and branding.”

She relaxed a little. “You’d be surprised.”

“I don’t know,” he said, sipping his drink. “Seems like most people just want to make jokes about it.”

“They do,” she admitted. “But it’s okay. I kind of like how open everyone’s been.”

“It’s impressive,” he said. “You made something beautiful out of something people usually whisper about.”

Her cheeks flushed again, but she didn’t look away this time. “Thank you.”

He leaned back in his chair, legs stretching out a little. His gaze softened. “So… did you?”

Her brows lifted slightly. “Did I what?”

“Try it,” he said, tone still light—but quieter now. Not teasing. Just… curious.

She blinked, then gave a small laugh, shaking her head. “I knew you were working up to that.”

He grinned. “Was I that obvious?”

“A little.”

“So?” he asked again, voice low and warm. “Did you?”

She hesitated—just for a second—then nodded once. “I did.”

And when she said it, she didn’t flinch. He wasn’t smirking. He wasn’t making it weird.

He was watching her.

And he looked… fascinated.

Her answer hung in the air—soft but sure.

“I did.”

Harry didn’t react right away. He just nodded slowly, as if cataloguing that. Like he wasn’t just interested in the fact—he wanted the feeling.

“For research,” he said, a small smile on his lips.

She let out a quiet breath of laughter. “Of course.”

“You test all the products yourself?”

“Not all,” she said, tucking her hand around her glass. “Just the ones I work directly on. This one was… a bit more involved.”

He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, glass loose in his hand. His voice dropped a little. “And how did it… perform?”

The words weren’t laced with suggestion—not outright. But there was a curiosity to them. Focused. Like he wanted to know.

She shifted in her seat. Her fingers drummed once against the side of her glass.

“It did what it was designed to do,” she said carefully.

He tilted his head, amused. “That’s a very professional answer.”

“Well, I am a professional.”

He grinned. “I’m sure you are.”

How he said it—warm and low, without looking away—made her throat dry.

She cleared it softly. “It… exceeded expectations,” she added, more quietly. “We went through a few prototypes before it felt right. But the final version… yeah. It worked.”

His gaze didn’t waver. “What made it better?”

She hesitated. Her voice dipped without meaning to. “The rhythm. And the pressure curve. Most toys blast you with power and assume that’s what gets the job done, but we—” She caught herself rambling and stopped. “Sorry. You probably don’t want all the technical details.”

“I do,” he said quickly. “I want all of it.”

Her breath caught for half a second.

“You don’t seem embarrassed,” he added, gently now. “Talking about it.”

“I’m not,” she said, though her voice was a little softer. “I mean… I am a little. But mostly I think people should be allowed to talk about pleasure like it’s normal.”

“It is normal,” he said. “Or it should be.”

There was a pause. Her cheeks were warm, and she couldn’t quite meet his eyes now, not for too long.

“I like how you talk about it,” he said, quieter now. “You don’t sound like someone selling something. You sound like someone who cares if people feel good.”

Her eyes finally lifted to his, and something heavier was now less playful.

“I do,” she said. “Care.”

His gaze dropped briefly—to her mouth, then her hands, then back to her eyes.

And this time, when the silence stretched, it wasn’t awkward. It was thick. Charged.

She felt warm all over.

The air between them had gone thick, slow like honey. His words were kind, earnest, even—but how he looked at her made it feel like he saw more than what she said. Like he was pulling pieces of her out into the light before she was ready.

Her fingers tightened slightly around her glass. She didn’t know what to say next.

So she shifted.

Gently.

“Did you ever try it?” she asked, her voice softer now. Almost hesitant. She kept her eyes on the rim of her drink as she spoke.

There was a pause.

Then a quiet, surprised laugh from across the table.

“That’s not what I expected you to ask,” Harry said, amusement laced.

Her lips pressed together in the tiniest smile. “You asked me.”

“True.”

She braved a glance up at him. His expression was open. Curious. Not mocking.

“No,” he said after a beat. “I haven’t.”

She blinked. “Really?”

He nodded, resting his forearm along the back of the chair. “I wanted to. Meant to. But I figured I should wait until I knew what I was doing.”

Y/N tilted her head slightly, brows lifting. “You think there’s a wrong way to use it?”

“Maybe not wrong,” he said, eyes dancing now, “but I didn’t want to half-understand something someone else put real care into.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked down again. “That’s… thoughtful.”

He let her sit with that. No teasing. No pressure. Just the sound of his ringed fingers tapping quietly once against his glass.

Then—softer now—he added, “Based on your reaction… sounds like I missed out.”

She let out the tiniest laugh, surprised at herself. “You might’ve.”

Harry smiled again. Not wide. Just enough.

And when he looked at her this time, it wasn’t like he was waiting for her to flirt back. It was like he wanted to hear what she’d say next. She wasn’t just someone who worked for his company—but someone he wanted to know more about.

Someone who made things he hadn’t touched yet, but maybe wanted to.

She didn’t know what she expected him to say next.

Maybe something flirtier. Maybe something bold.

Instead, he looked at her like he wasn’t rushing to go anywhere.

This small conversation in a quiet corner of the room was better than anything else that might’ve been planned.

She opened her mouth, unsure what to say, when a voice broke in from the doorway.

“Harry—sorry.” A woman appeared, poised and efficient, dressed in all black with an earpiece tucked behind one ear. His assistant, probably. “A couple of people from Vogue want a quick moment. They’re asking for you.”

Harry leaned back in his chair with a small exhale, running a hand through his hair as he turned toward the voice. “Right. Yeah. Okay.”

He stood slowly, finishing the last drink before setting the glass between them.

Then he looked at her again.

And this time his smile was a little softer. Regretful, almost.

“It was nice meeting you,” he said, voice low.

She nodded, unsure if she should stand too. “You too.”

He paused like he might say more. Like he wanted to.

But instead, he just gave her one last look, held it for a second too long, and then turned to follow the assistant out.

She watched him go, her hands curled lightly around her glass.

The silence in the room felt louder once he was gone.

She stayed seated for another minute after he left, nursing what was left of her drink and staring at the condensation sliding down the side of the glass. The buzz of conversation from the main room filtered back in slowly, like a tide rolling in after a quiet storm.

It was just a conversation.

She told herself that as she stood, smoothed down the hem of her dress, and returned through the velvet curtain. The party hadn’t changed—still golden, still loud. Still filled with people drinking and laughing and pretending they weren’t watching for a glimpse of him.

She found her boss near the bar, chatting with someone from PR, a half-full coupe glass in her hand. When she saw Y/N approaching, her brows lifted.

“There she is,” her boss said, turning slightly. “You disappeared.”

“I stepped out for a bit,” Y/N said, waving the bartender over for water this time. Her pulse was still doing strange things in her neck.

Her boss narrowed her eyes. “With him?”

Y/N blinked. “What?”

“Harry.” Her boss sipped her drink, watching her over the rim. “I saw him walk you into the lounge.”

She shrugged, trying to sound casual. “He wanted to ask me about the design. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Mmhmm.” Her boss gave her a knowing look. “That’s how it always starts.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t quite bite back the smile tugging at her lips. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Sure.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know. I believe you.” She tilted her glass toward Y/N. “You just look a little flushed, that’s all.”

Y/N tried to hide her smile behind her water.

She stood there for a while, tucked into the corner of the bar with her boss, listening to bits of conversations float past. A few people complimented her, some even recognizing her work. Someone joked about stealing one of the display units. She laughed in the right places, nodded, and made polite conversation.

But now and then, her eyes drifted toward the hallway.

Just once.

After another half hour, the crowd shifted—voices a little louder and laughter sloppier. The ice in drinks melted faster. Someone spilled a cocktail near the edge of the carpet, and the bartender sighed. It was that part of the night when everything started to blur.

Y/N checked the time—almost eleven.

She wasn’t needed anymore.

Her boss had drifted off into a conversation with someone from marketing, one hand on their arm, gesturing animatedly. Y/N waited for a lull before stepping in.

“I’m gonna head out,” she said, gently.

Her boss turned, blinking once before smiling. “You’re not staying for the after-party?”

She shook her head. “No. I’ve hit my social limit.”

“Well, if anyone earned an early exit, it’s you,” her boss said, pulling her into a quick hug. “Seriously. Tonight was a hit. Everyone’s obsessed.”

“Thank you,” Y/N murmured, soft and sincere.

“Let me know if you want me to send over the press roundups tomorrow.”

“Will do. Night.”

She slipped from the bar and made her way through the thinning crowd, pausing to give polite goodbyes to a few coworkers and people she barely remembered being introduced to earlier. They all said some version of the same thing: Congratulations. It's an incredible design, and you should be proud.

And she was.

She really, truly was.

But still… her heart beat a little faster as she reached the edge of the hallway.

She hadn’t seen him again. No surprise. He was probably upstairs somewhere doing press photos, shaking hands with whoever paid the most significant ad buy, charming the rooms he was expected to charm.

She was okay with that.

She was.

She tucked a hand into her coat pocket, her heels quiet against the polished floor as she stepped into the hallway leading to the exit. Her footsteps echoed softly, muted by the velvet walls and the hush of being somewhere just slightly removed from the party.

It felt a little lonely. But also… peaceful.

Finished.

She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

Then rounded the corner toward the door.

Then—

Click.

The soft sound of a door opening.

Her heart jumped.

“Y/N?”

She turned.

Harry stood a few feet down the hallway, one hand braced lightly on the doorframe behind him. His curls were a little messier now, and the silk of his shirt relaxed further from his collarbone.

He looked… unhurried. Like he’d followed her without really thinking about it.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

Her grip tightened slightly on her coat. “Home,” she said. “I’m tired.”

He nodded once. “Yeah. Makes sense.”

There was a pause before he added, “I’m heading out soon, too.”

She offered him a small smile. “You should stay. You’re the reason they’re all here.”

“I think you might be the reason they’re all whispering.”

She blushed and looked down, fiddling with her phone. “I was just going to call an Uber.”

Harry stepped forward slightly. “Can I walk you out?”

She blinked.

There wasn’t anything loaded in his voice. Just something soft. Something that made her stomach flutter in a quiet, unexpected way.

“Sure,” she said.

And just like that, they turned toward the door together.

The city hummed in the background. Muted headlights passed, tires whispering along the pavement. Behind them, the glow of the launch party dimmed to something distant.

They walked slowly toward the curb, her heels quiet on the sidewalk. Harry kept pace beside her, hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers, his shirt untucked just enough to look like the night had lived on him a bit.

She pulled out her phone when they reached the edge of the street.

“I’ll just call an Uber,” she said, flicking it open.

But before she could tap the screen, he spoke.

“You don’t have to do that.”

She looked up.

“I’ll drive you,” he said, like it wasn’t a question. “If that’s alright with you.”

She blinked. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” he said, and his smile was easy. Sure. “But I’d like to.”

She hesitated.

He took one step closer—not close enough to crowd her, just enough that his voice dropped into something warmer.

“I wasn’t finished picking your brain,” he said. “And I’m selfish when I’m curious.”

That made her chuckle, even as something tightened beneath her ribs.

“You don’t have to impress me,” she said, trying to keep her voice even.

He shook his head, eyes catching hers. “I’m not trying to impress you. I want to hear what else you have to say.”

How he looked at her then—steady and open, not pushy, just present—made her stomach flip.

Her thumb hovered over the screen for a second longer.

Then she locked her phone and slipped it back into her coat pocket.

“Okay,” she said.

His grin deepened. “Good.”

And together, they turned down the sidewalk.

His car was parked just down the street—sleek and understated, dark paint catching little glints of city light. He unlocked it with a click and opened the passenger door for her without a word.

She slid in, her dress brushing against the seat, the door shutting softly behind her. The interior smelled like leather and something subtle, maybe cedar. Clean. Warm.

Harry settled into the driver’s seat, one hand on the wheel, the other raking through his curls as he glanced over.

“You alright?” he asked.

She nodded, smoothing her hands over her coat where it pooled in her lap. “Yeah. … feels quiet now.”

“Nice kind of quiet,” he said, starting the engine. “Different.”

They pulled into the street, the soft hum of the car filling the silence between them for a minute. She watched the city lights blur past the window. She felt completely unobserved for the first time all night, like they were tucked inside something still and separate.

A few blocks in, Harry spoke again—voice low, calm.

“I don’t mean to make it weird,” he said. “But I’ve got a guest room if you want it.”

She turned to look at him.

“No pressure,” he added quickly. “It’s just late, and I figured… I dunno. It’s nicer than sleeping in the back of an Uber with a stranger who keeps playing Pitbull.”

That made her laugh. Quiet, tired. “You have a lot of experience with Pitbull-loving Uber drivers?”

“More than I care to admit.”

She studied him for a second. The way his fingers tapped once against the steering wheel. He glanced over at her, checking—not pushing, just checking.

“Are you sure it’s not weird?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t offer if it were.”

She paused. Then smiled faintly.

“What the hell,” she said.

He looked over at her again, slower this time.

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

He smiled then—slow and warm and a little smug but not in a way that made her regret it.

“I’ve got a nice whiskey,” he said. “We could break it open.”

She leaned back against the seat, letting herself settle into the idea.

“Alright,” she said. “One drink.”

His smile deepened. “One.”

But neither of them believed that.

His house was tucked behind a low gate. It was modern but warm, with stone, glass, and low lighting that glowed softly along the pathway. When he opened the front door, she caught the faint scent of something clean and woodsy, like cedar, linen, and home.

Inside, the space was spacious but lived-in. Nothing was staged: a stack of books on the coffee table, a hoodie tossed over the back of a chair, and a half-melted candle on the kitchen island.

It felt real. Lived in. His.

She slipped out of her heels just inside the door, quietly grateful to be on solid ground. Her feet ached, but the rest of her felt… light. A little dazed. Like the night was still opening.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Harry said, setting his keys in a small dish by the door. “Couch is yours.”

She stepped into the sunken living room and curled into the corner of the couch, tucking one leg underneath her. It was ridiculously soft. She couldn’t help but exhale.

Harry momentarily disappeared into the other room, then returned holding a folded knit blanket.

“You looked cold,” he said, draping it over her lap before she could protest.

Her cheeks warmed. “Thank you.”

He nodded and moved to the bar cart by the window. There was a slight clink of glass and a cork popping. He poured two fingers into each glass, but there was no ice.

When he returned, he handed her one and settled into the armchair across from her. Their knees angled toward each other, as if the conversation had already started.

She took a sip—smooth, smoky. Sharp enough to burn in the back of her throat, but not unpleasant.

For a moment, neither of them said anything.

Then he cleared his throat, voice lower now. More careful.

“Can I ask you something?”

She glanced up at him over the rim of her glass. “Sure.”

“Personal questions,” he clarified. “Nothing weird. I… want to know more than your title.”

Her lips parted slightly. Something fluttered low in her stomach.

She nodded. “Okay.”

Harry watched her over the rim of his glass. Not staring. Just… present.

The kind of attention that made her feel warm in a way that had nothing to do with the whiskey.

He let a few seconds pass. No rush. No sharp pivot. Just—

“What makes you happy?” he asked.

She blinked. Not because it was invasive—because it wasn’t. It was just so… simple. And real. Not a party question. Not small talk.

She hesitated. Swirled the liquid in her glass.

“I don’t know,” she said softly. “That’s hard.”

He nodded, like he understood. “Yeah. It is.”

She tucked the blanket a little higher over her lap, eyes flicking to the window for a second. “I guess… little things. Slow mornings. Getting something right after trying for hours. When my cat sleeps on my chest like I’m her entire world.”

That made him smile.

“And this,” she added quietly, before she could stop herself.

He looked up, curious. “This?”

She nodded, a little shy. “Just… being here. Talking. Not being expected to perform.”

He let that settle. Didn’t push.

“I like quiet,” she added, eyes dropping to her drink again. “But not the kind that feels empty. The kind that feels like someone’s listening.”

Harry’s gaze didn’t move.

“I am,” he said.

She looked at him then, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. He wasn’t performing either because he was sitting in his lived-in house, offering her warmth, whiskey, and stillness.

She didn’t say anything for a moment.

Then, softly: “Why’d you ask me that?”

His lips curved a little. “Because I like how you answer things.”

Her chest tightened—not uncomfortably, but in that aching, fluttery way when someone looks at you and sees something you hadn’t even named yet.

He leaned forward slightly, his glass dangling loosely between his fingers. “Can I ask another?”

She nodded.

“Why this?” he asked. “Why design something like that?”

She smiled, eyes lowering. “You want to know?”

“I wouldn’t have followed you down a hallway if I didn’t.”

Y/N let her thumb glide slowly over the rim of her glass, her gaze fixed between the blanket on her lap and the amber liquid catching the light.

She didn’t rush her answer.

“I think…” she began, then paused, swallowing gently. “I think a lot of the time, we’re told to want things without ever being asked what feels good.”

Harry stayed still. No interrupting. Just waiting.

“I got tired of the clinical way people talk about pleasure,” she continued softly. “Like it’s something separate from the rest of who we are. Like it’s this weird, taboo corner we only peek into when no one’s watching.”

She glanced up briefly to see him still watching her. Focused. Steady.

“So I wanted to design something that felt… beautiful,” she said. “Not just functional. Something that could sit on your nightstand and not make you feel ashamed. Something that made you feel like it belonged to you.”

She looked down again.

“I guess it wasn’t really about the product,” she said. “It was about giving people—especially women—a little control back. Not just over their bodies, but over what brings them joy.”

The room was quiet.

But it didn’t feel empty.

When she looked up again, his expression had changed.

Softer. Quieter. Like something had settled in him.

“That’s the best answer I’ve ever heard to any question I’ve ever asked,” he said quietly.

She let out a soft laugh, but it caught in her throat.

“You made something compelling,” he said. “And you talk about it like it’s no big deal.”

“It’s not,” she said. “Not really.”

“It is,” he said. “Because it matters.”

The way he looked at her now—it wasn’t just interest. It was respect. Admiration. And something more tender, tucked behind his lashes like a secret.

Like she’d just surprised him.

And he loved being surprised.

He didn’t speak right away.

I just watched her; how someone watches a fire burn low—like it was warming him in a way he hadn’t expected.

She took another sip of her whiskey, not meeting his eyes this time. It was easier to pretend the room wasn’t thick with something new.

But he was still watching her.

And then, quietly:

“Can I ask you something else?”

She nodded once, slowly. “You don’t have to keep asking.”

“I do,” he said. “Because I don’t want to push.”

His voice was low now. Weighted, but careful. It made her heart catch, that kind of restraint.

He set his glass on the table and leaned forward, elbows resting loosely on his knees.

“Do you ever feel like… It’s easier to give pleasure than to ask for it?”

Her breath stalled.

The question wasn’t sexual. Not exactly. It was emotional. Raw. Softened by the way he said it. Like it came from a place he knew too well himself.

She didn’t answer right away. The room felt suddenly warmer, the whiskey blooming in her chest like heat. Her fingers curled a little tighter around the blanket.

“I do,” she said finally, voice quiet. “All the time.”

Harry nodded slowly, eyes still on her.

“I think that’s why I put it to work,” she said. “It’s easier. Safer.”

“Because no one expects you to ask for anything back,” he said.

She met his eyes then—and no teasing was left in him. Just that slow, deliberate interest that felt like gravity.

Like he was inching closer without moving an inch.

“That’s not how it should be, you know,” he said.

Her throat felt tight.

“I know,” she whispered.

Neither of them moved.

But the tension—the weight between them—was suddenly impossible to ignore. Something unspoken vibrated beneath the silence. One had to break it, or it would break for them.

And still, he didn’t reach for her.

But his voice was softer than ever when he asked, “Can I pour you another?”

She nodded, the motion small but sure. “Yeah… I’d like that.”

Harry stood and walked back to the bar cart; this time, there was a new stillness. The kind that came with intention. No longer dancing around anything. He poured slowly, carefully, then returned to the couch—and when he sat, he didn’t give her space this time.

His thigh pressed gently against hers. His body turned toward her. Close enough that his warmth brushed her skin like a secret.

She took the glass from his hand, fingers brushing. Holding. Not letting go right away.

He didn’t pull back.

His hand was still on her thigh, his thumb moving in slow, aimless circles, making it hard to think clearly.

She hadn’t meant to say anything. Not really.

But the moment felt thick with possibility, as if she didn’t speak, it might close around them and vanish.

So she did.

“Do you want to try it?”

Her voice was quiet. Measured. But underneath it, something pulsed. A flicker of nerves. Or anticipation. Maybe both.

Harry didn’t move at first.

He looked at her—really looked at her—like he was trying to decide if she meant it the way it sounded.

His fingers stilled against her thigh.

Then his lips parted, the smallest exhale slipping out. Not a laugh. Not quite surprised. Just heat.

“I don’t know what I’d do with it,” he said, his voice low, like it wasn’t meant to be heard outside the space between them.

Her chest rose with a shallow breath, and she gave the slightest shrug—helpless, honest.

“You can do anything,” she said.

His eyes didn’t leave hers.

For a second, the entire room—the lights, the air, the city outside—seemed to hold still around them.

Then, slowly, he leaned back.

Brought his glass to his lips.

Tipped it.

Swallowed the rest of the whiskey in one long drink.

And when he set the glass down, his hand slid higher on her thigh—slow, deliberate, and no longer careful.

“Why don’t you show me?” he said.

His hand stayed on her thigh, firm now. No more questioning. No more almost.

And his voice was low, heat, and certainty when he leaned in—closer than he had all night.

“Come with me.”

It wasn’t a demand. It wasn’t even a request.

It was gravity.

She didn’t speak. She let him take the glass from her hand, setting it down beside his with a soft clink. Then his fingers slipped from her thigh to her hand, curling around hers, warm and deliberate.

He stood, tugging her gently with him.

She followed.

Barefoot, quiet, pulse racing.

The hallway was dim, hushed like the rest of the house had already gone to sleep. She let him guide her past tall shelves, through a doorway, into a room that smelled like linen and skin and something faintly woodsy—him.

The bedroom was spacious but not showy. It had dark walls, soft sheets, and a low lamp glowing gold in the corner.

He turned to face her just inside the doorway.

And for a moment, he didn’t touch her.

Just looked.

His eyes scanned her face, pausing at her lips and neck. Her breath was uneven now, and her hands were at her sides, like she didn’t know what to do with them.

“You sure?” he asked softly.

She nodded.

“That’s not good enough,” he said, stepping closer now, his voice quiet but sure. “I want to hear it.”

Her breath trembled on the way out.

“I’m sure,” she said.

And that was all it took.

His hands slid to her waist. Slow, grounding. He leaned in and kissed her—finally—mouth warm and steady, no rush, just pressure. He’d been thinking about it since she said I helped design it.

She kissed him back, arms slipping around his shoulders, her body moving toward his like it had been waiting.

The door clicked shut behind them.

The kiss deepened as he walked her backward toward the bed, one slow step at a time, his hands splayed warm against her waist. Her breath caught when her legs hit the edge of the mattress, and he pulled back just enough to look at her.

Then his hands slid up—along her sides, over the dip of her waist, until they found the straps of her dress.

He slipped them down with maddening care.

The fabric pooled at her feet.

His eyes dragged over her slowly, taking in the curve of her hips, the heat still lingering in her flushed cheeks, the tension in her thighs. And then, just when she thought he’d touch her again—he stepped back.

Wordless.

Calm.

And crossed the room.

She watched, dazed and aching, as he opened a drawer in the dresser and pulled out the sleek black box—the box she knew by weight and shape alone.

Her chest rose sharply.

He turned it in his hands as he walked back to her. “So this is the one, yeah?” he asked, voice low and wicked.

She nodded, lips parted, not trusting herself to speak.

He smiled, slow and dangerous.

He pressed a soft kiss to her mouth, then her throat, then her collarbone—before murmuring, “And you’re gonna let me use it on you?”

Her knees nearly buckled.

“Lie back,” he said.

She obeyed, heart pounding as she stretched across the cool sheets, her legs trembling slightly with anticipation.

Harry opened the box slowly, as if he were unwrapping something sacred.

He turned the toy on—low at first. A soft, steady hum filled the room, and her breath hitched at the sound alone.

He knelt on the bed beside her, running his free hand up her thigh—slowly parting her legs, his eyes never leaving her face.

He dragged the vibrator gently along the inside of her thigh—up, then down again, nowhere near where she needed it. Teasing.

“You feel that?” he murmured. “You made that happen.”

The vibration buzzed just against her skin. Her body was already arching subtly, craving more.

“You know what the best part is?” he said, bringing it close enough that her breath stuttered.

She whimpered.

He smiled.

“I haven’t even turned it up yet.”

The vibrator's hum was low and steady, like a curling sound around her spine.

Harry sat on one knee on the bed beside her, watching her with infuriating calm. The toy hovered just along the crease of her inner thigh, barely brushing her, never staying still. His touch was maddeningly light, deliberate, withholding.

“You’re already shaking,” he murmured.

She tried to bite back a sound, her breath stuttering instead.

He brought the toy a little higher, grazing the edge of her underwear and pressing a bit firmer against the soaked fabric.

Her hips jolted, the pressure too close and not enough all at once.

“You like knowing I have this?” he asked softly. “Knowing I could use it on anyone I want?”

Her eyes fluttered open, already glassy.

“But I’m not,” he said. “I’m using it on you.”

He turned the setting up—not much. Just enough.

The vibration pulsed stronger, buzzing directly against her now. Still through the fabric, still too light to push her over, but enough to make her body arch, to make a soft moan spill from her lips before she could catch it.

“There we go,” he said, voice low and praising. “There’s that sound I’ve been waiting for.”

He dragged it down again, slow and teasing, making her chase the sensation, her thighs shifting restlessly under his hand.

“You made something perfect,” he said, pressing a kiss just above her navel. “But you didn’t make it to be kind, did you?”

She whimpered.

“You made it to ruin people.”

She nodded, helpless.

“Say it.”

“I—I didn’t…” Her voice broke, hips rocking upward. “I didn’t make it to be kind.”

He smiled against her skin.

“Exactly.”

Then he slipped the toy beneath the edge of her underwear, finally letting it touch her properly—warm and wet and ready. Her whole body jolted at the contact, the air catching in her lungs like she’d forgotten how to breathe.

And he still didn’t give her what she wanted.

Not all of it.

He held it just slightly off-center, teasing that sweet spot with maddening precision, not quite letting her tip over the edge.

Her hips bucked. Her hands twisted in the sheets.

“Not yet,” he said, his voice calm and almost gentle. “You don’t come until I say.”

She moaned—frustrated, desperate, right there.

His eyes never left her.

“You’re gonna fall apart for me,” he murmured. “But not until I see what that beautiful little toy of yours can do.”

Then he turned it up again.

And everything inside her broke.

Her body was tense beneath him, trembling at the edge of something sharp and overwhelming. Her fingers twisted in the sheets, her thighs clenching around his hand as he kept the vibrator in just the right place—but not quite enough to push her over.

Not yet.

Harry watched her with dark, steady eyes, his voice low and calm in contrast to how completely he had her coming undone.

“You’re close,” he murmured, his thumb grazing the edge of her hip. “Aren’t you?”

She nodded, breathless. “Please.”

“Please what?”

She let out a desperate whimper, hips grinding into the pressure now, chasing release. “Please let me—please.”

He smiled, just slightly. “Not yet.”

She cried out, a soft, frustrated sound that made something tighten in his jaw. He leaned down and kissed the inside of her thigh. Then her stomach. Then lower.

“You can take a little more,” he said against her skin. “You built this to take more.”

She gasped as he turned the setting up again—deeper now. Buzzing right against her, not holding back anymore. Her body jerked under the intensity, her breath caught somewhere in her throat.

“I can’t—I can’t—”

“Yes,” he whispered, right at her ear now, his lips brushing the shell of it. “You can. Just a little longer.”

Her entire body arched off the bed. Her legs were shaking. She was unraveling under his voice, under his hand, under the thing she had designed to ruin strangers—and now it was ruining her.

“I need—Harry—please, I need—”

That was the moment.

He kissed her jaw, soft and firm.

“Okay,” he said. “Now.”

And the second he said it, she shattered.

Her back arched, her legs locked around his arm, and a deep, broken moan tore from her throat. She came hard, her body shaking with the release—extended, drawn out, helpless beneath him.

He didn’t let up. Not right away. Just kept the toy there for a few seconds longer, until she was writhing, too sensitive, too much.

Then he turned it off.

Silence fell.

Except for her breath. Ragged. Unsteady. Alive.

He brushed her hair back from her damp forehead, his touch feather-light now.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his lips at her temple. “That’s exactly what I wanted.”

And in that moment, all she could do was breathe.

And feel.

His mouth found hers again—warm and slow and full of the heat that builds behind the eyes—not rushed. Not rough.

Just wanting.

She pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt, her fingers fisting in the soft fabric. She kissed him harder now, her lips parting for his, her body already arching into his like she hadn’t just fallen apart minutes ago. Like she needed more.

He pulled back just slightly, his breath ragged, his eyes searching hers.

Then his lips curled, low and wicked.

“You’re needy, aren’t you?”

She flushed, her cheeks hot, her thighs instinctively tightening around him as she sat straddled in his lap.

She didn’t deny it.

Didn’t look away.

Instead, she leaned in again—nose brushing his, lips just barely apart.

“I need to ride you,” she whispered.

The change in him was instant.

His hands tightened on her hips, jaw flexing as he inhaled through his nose like he was trying to hold something back. He looked up at her—like she was the only thing he’d ever wanted to feel.

His voice came rough now, all gravel and tension.

“Fuckin’ hell.”

And then he lay back, pulling her with him.

“Go ahead,” he said, voice low, like a promise. “Take it.”

His words were still hanging in the air when she leaned down and kissed him again—slow and sure, lips dragging over his like she was claiming something. His hands were still on her hips, but now they stayed still, like he was letting her take over.

And she did.

Her fingers slipped to the top of his shirt, tugging at the buttons—one by one. No rush. No trembling hands this time. She focused, peeling the fabric apart until the smooth plane of his chest was exposed beneath her.

He watched her.

Silent.

His breathing was heavier now. His lips parted as she spread his shirt open and ran her hands over the warm skin beneath. She traced his collarbone, the light dusting of hair across his sternum, and the soft line that dipped down toward his waistband.

Her lips followed her hands.

She kissed down his neck, open-mouthed and unhurried. Along his chest. Over the curve of his stomach. She felt the way his muscles jumped under her mouth.

And she loved it.

He swore softly under his breath, one hand sliding up her spine, fingers curling into her hair.

But still—he didn’t rush her.

She sat back up, straddling his thighs, and her hands went to the button of his trousers.

She looked up, lips flushed, hair a little messy now.

“Okay?” she whispered.

He groaned, head dropping back against the pillow.

“Fucking please.”

She smiled—just slightly.

And undid his pants.

His cock was already hard in her hand, thick and flushed, and when she wrapped her fingers around him properly, he let out a low, broken noise from deep in his chest.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his head falling back against the pillow as she stroked him—long and slow, her thumb catching the bead of slick at the tip and spreading it down his length. His stomach tensed under her, his thighs shifting, breath catching on every exhale.

“You’re gonna fucking ruin me,” he murmured, eyes fluttering open to meet hers.

She didn’t say anything.

She just smiled—soft, knowing—and pushed his shirt fully off his shoulders as she straddled his hips again. Her knees braced against the mattress, her body bare above him, glowing in the low golden light.

She lifted her hips, guided him to her entrance, and hovered there for a moment—just long enough to feel him pulse against her, just long enough to let the tension coil tight between them.

Then she sank.

Inch by inch.

Slow.

The stretch pulled a gasp from her throat and a growl from his. His hands gripped her hips hard, his knuckles pale against her skin.

“Christ,” he muttered, voice thick. “You feel so good.”

She was tight around him, slick and warm and perfect. Her head dropped forward, forehead pressed against his as she bottomed out, taking every last inch until their bodies were flush.

They stayed there for a moment.

Just breathing.

His hands moved—one sliding up her back, the other wrapping around her waist as he whispered against her jaw.

“You okay?”

She nodded, eyes shut, lips parted around a shaky breath. “Yeah. Just… full.”

That made him smile.

“Good.”

She started to move—rolling her hips slowly, testing the rhythm, finding what felt good. She was in control now. She set the pace, and he let her. Let her ride him with purpose, need, and heat in every motion.

Her hands braced on his chest. He slid down to her ass, guiding her, grounding her.

Every drag of him inside her sent a ripple up her spine.

Every grind of her hips pulled another low moan from his throat.

And when she leaned back slightly, hands on his thighs for balance, he looked up at her like he’d never seen anything so fucking beautiful.

“You’re unreal,” he breathed. “Watching you like this…”

She bounced a little more complicated now, a gasp catching in her throat as he hit deeper.

“Don’t stop,” he said. “Just like that. Keep going.”

She rode him harder.

Faster.

Until the wet slap of skin against skin filled the room, and her moans turned into cries, and he was gripping the sheets beneath him like he was barely holding on.

His mouth found her breast, sucking and biting softly, and she cried out as her orgasm started to build again—sharp and unstoppable.

“Come on,” he whispered against her skin. “Come for me again. Let me feel it.”

And she did.

It hit her all at once—sharp and deep, her entire body tightening around him, her voice breaking as she clung to him and came with a shudder.

He followed seconds later—hips jerking up into hers, jaw clenched, a harsh moan ripping from his throat as he emptied into her, lost in the heat and the rhythm and her.

They stayed tangled and shaking, his hands on her back, hers in his hair, and both gasping into the quiet.

Neither of them said anything at first.

Her body trembled as she leaned forward, chest to chest, resting her forehead against his. Their breaths tangled—shaky and uneven, but slowly syncing again.

Harry’s hands rubbed gently along her spine, his thumbs drawing circles beneath her shoulder blades. No more tension. No more teasing.

Just presence.

“C’mere,” he murmured after a few moments, sliding his hands to her thighs and lifting her carefully off him. She let him, boneless and quiet, as he cradled her against his chest and stood.

He carried her to the bathroom.

He gently set her on the tub's edge, his hand brushing a damp strand of hair from her cheek. “Gonna run a bath, yeah?”

She nodded.

He didn’t say anything else. I just turned the faucet, tested the temperature, and added a pump for something that smelled like cedar and vanilla. The room was filled with steam as he helped her into the warm water; his touch was always gentle and patient.

She let out a soft sigh as she sank in.

He sat beside the tub, legs drawn up, his shirt still open, watching her with a quiet affection she hadn’t expected.

“You okay?” he asked.

She looked up. Met his eyes.

Smiled.

“Yeah. More than.”

After a while, he reached for a towel, helping her out and wrapping her up like she was something to be kept warm and safe. They moved back to the bed in silence. He handed her one of his soft, worn-in-all-the-right-ways T-shirts. She pulled it over her head.

He didn’t ask her to stay.

She didn’t ask him to make it more than it was.

But it didn't feel like a goodbye when he pulled the blanket over them and wrapped an arm around her.

It felt like something real, even if only for the night.

She curled into his side.

His fingers threaded into her hair.

And for a long time, neither of them said a word.

His arm tightened around her, anchoring her there.

You were wearing a white lace dress, with your hair tied loosely back, a few strands slipping free to frame your flushed face. The streets hummed around you, but you weren’t really paying attention to anything except Harry, well, Harry and the icy drink in your hand.

The cobblestone streets of Rome glistened under soft amber lights. It had rained briefly earlier that evening, just enough to coat the city in a sheen that made every step feel cinematic.

You were tipsy. Gloriously, gigglingly tipsy.

Harry leaned back against the wall of the trattoria you’d all just left, the collar of his blue shirt slightly undone, the hem of his trousers brushing his ankles. He was sipping slowly, his other hand tucked into his pocket, eyes watching you with that amused, adoring little smile.

Alessandro Michele was standing nearby with an arm lazily draped around his partner. He was telling some story to the group gathered around, all talking over one another.

But you were entirely fixated on your boyfriend.

You took a sip of your cocktail, lips pursing. “Why is this so good?” you said, stumbling a little as you reached Harry. You clung to his side, wrapping your free arm around his waist like you needed him to stay upright.

Harry chuckled, low and patient. “Because it’s your fourth one, bunny.”

You smiled dreamily. “It’s not my fourth.”

“It is.” He slid your glass gently from your hand. “And that’s enough, lovie.”

You blinked up at him, swaying just slightly on your feet. “You’re mean.”

“I know.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead, then your cheek. “But you’ll thank me in the morning.”

You wrapped your arms tighter around him, hands gliding over the silk of his shirt, and buried your face in his neck. “You smell so good,” you whispered, then nuzzled in deeper and left a slow, open-mouthed kiss just beneath his jaw.

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away or tell you to behave. Just let you nuzzle and nip at the soft skin beneath his ear, your lips brushing just beneath his jaw as if you were trying to memorize the shape of him with your mouth. You were delicate at first, barely-there kisses, your breath warm and sweet against his skin, but then your teeth grazed him, playful and a little greedy, and he made a low sound that barely passed as a laugh.

Still, he didn’t stop you.

His arm wrapped more securely around your waist, hand warm and steady against the small of your back, his thumb drawing slow, grounding circles. He was still listening to Alessandro and laughing softly with the others, nodding along, but every now and then, his hand would slide just a little lower, soothing, steadying, as your lips trailed along his neck with lazy devotion.

You kept going, half-draped over him, mouthing at the skin above his collarbone, barely noticing how your lip gloss had smudged just a little. You pressed another kiss to the side of his neck, then did it again, just because you could.

Harry tilted his head to the side slightly, offering you more space, still not saying anything. He didn’t need to. His body was so relaxed, like this was just second nature, letting his tipsy girl crawl all over him in the middle of a Roman alley while he chatted with old friends.

Every now and then, his fingers would tighten at your waist, squeezing gently when you got a bit too close to his collar or a little too sharp with your teeth. But he didn’t move you away. He just kept talking.

At one point, Giovanni, Alessandro’s partner, caught Harry’s eye and raised a brow with a knowing smirk.

“She’s had fun tonight,” Harry said smoothly, not missing a beat. He kissed the top of your head without even looking. “Haven’t you, bun?”

You hummed in reply, completely blissed out against his neck, lips still grazing skin as if it was the only thing tethering you to the ground.

Then you said softly, right against his skin: “You taste good too.”

That was when Harry finally blinked and let out a quiet laugh.

You kissed him again, then again, sloppier this time, hot lips dragging across the column of his throat. “Can we go back home?” you murmured.

“Not yet, bun.”

“Wanna be alone with you.”

“I know you do.” His voice was still gentle, but there was a warning edge to it. You’d pushed past that edge.

Your hand slid down, tracing the front of his shirt, nails dragging lightly, until you reached the waistband of his trousers. You giggled, brushing the heel of your palm over the slight bulge in his pants.

His eyes widened. “Jesus,” he muttered, laughter bursting from him as he quickly grabbed your wrist and pushed your hand away. “You’re gonna get us arrested.”

“But it’s Rome,” you whispered with a giggle. “They’re romantic here.”

“Yeah, not that romantic,” he said, still laughing.

You pouted, leaning up to kiss him again. This time it was full-on, your mouth open, messy, hungry.

Your lips found his like it was the only thing in the world you could focus on. You tilted your head and opened wider, tongue brushing his, fingers tangling into the collar of his shirt as you pressed up on your toes to reach him fully.

Harry let you kiss him. Let you take and take, groaning softly into your mouth as one of his hands came up to cradle the back of your head, steadying you. His other arm stayed looped around your waist, keeping you anchored, flush to him. His fingers curled at your lower back again, a slow, reassuring stroke up and down, up and down.

Around you, no one paid much attention. The group had splintered into smaller conversations, Alessandro now theatrically reenacting something with wide hand gestures, everyone too caught up in their own tipsy laughter and stories to care that you were practically devouring your boyfriend in the street.

You whimpered softly into his mouth, angling yourself closer, knee slipping between his, and Harry chuckled again, deep in his chest.

“You’re a menace tonight,” he murmured against your lips.

But he still didn’t stop you.

You were about to say something, something about how warm he was, or how you wanted to crawl into his shirt and live there, when a sudden arm slung casually around your shoulders from the side, pulling you back slightly with affectionate force.

“Alright, bambini,” Alessandro grinned, standing between you and Harry now like a human barrier, one arm still draped across your shoulders, the other flung around Harry’s. “Save some of that passion for behind closed doors, hmm?”

Harry threw his head back and laughed.

You blinked up at Alessandro, dazed and pouty, but didn’t resist his grip. You stood there for a moment, swaying a little under the weight of his arm, then slipped out from under it with a tiny huff and wandered toward the table nearby, sinking into one of the wrought iron chairs with a sigh.

Your cheek smushed against your hand, elbow propped on the table. You kicked your feet slightly under the chair and started humming to yourself, some soft, dreamy tune you couldn’t quite remember the name of. Probably something Harry had played for you once, or something Alessandro had blasted through his villa speakers.

Your dress caught the light every time you shifted, your flushed face dreamy and content as the night swirled on around you. People talked and sipped and smoked and laughed, and you just hummed and watched Harry from your little spot, like he was the center of your universe.

Because he was.

You kept humming, now swaying slightly in your seat, arms folded on the table in front of you. The streets had grown quieter now, just the low hum of traffic in the distance, a few passing voices, the clinking of ice in glasses.

You closed your eyes for a moment, feeling the breeze slip past and cool your flushed skin. You imagined Harry’s hand instead, those warm fingers tracing down your back, over your thighs, up the inside of your—

“Bun,” came his voice suddenly, close.

Your eyes fluttered open to find him crouching beside you, glass of water in one hand and that soft, bossy smile on his face.

“Drink this,” he said, nudging it toward your lips.

You wrinkled your nose. “I don’t want water.”

“I know,” he said gently, tilting the glass anyway. “Be a good girl, yeah? Just a little.”

You let out the tiniest whine, dramatic and pouty, but opened your mouth. He helped you sip, watching you the whole time, free hand rubbing your thigh slowly under the table. You finished a little less than half before turning your head dramatically into his shoulder.

“There,” you murmured. “I’m healthy.”

Harry laughed, soft and warm. “You’re getting healthy. One more sip, bunny.”

“This is so entertaining,” Alessandro said suddenly, perched across from you both with a smirk on his face, chin in hand, elbow propped on the table, as you glared at him.

Harry smiled down at you, ignoring them entirely, lifting the glass once more.

“You gonna finish this for me?” he asked sweetly.

You stared at him. “If i get a kissy after.”

He smirked. “Deal.”

You took another sip, then immediately threw yourself at him. His arms came around you instinctively, laughing into your shoulder as you tried to kiss his cheek, his jaw, his mouth.

“Christ,” he muttered, letting you do whatever you wanted, still smiling as he glanced back toward Alessandro. “She’s relentless tonight.”

“Let her be,” Alessandro said.

“C’mon, time to go.” Harry said after a while.

You blinked. “Already?”

“It’s nearly two,” he said gently, crouching slightly so you were eye level. “I thought you wanted to go home?”

You pouted again. “No, I like it here.”

“I know, lovie,” he said, brushing his knuckles against your cheek, “We’re gonna come again tomorrow, right now you need sleep.”

You giggled and let him pull you to your feet.

Your legs wobbled a bit, and Harry steadied you immediately with both hands around your waist, then leaned in to kiss the tip of your nose.

“I want pizza,” you said dreamily as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and guided you back to the group.

Alessandro gasped. “Finally, someone says what we’re all thinking!”

Within minutes, the group was making their way down the winding street toward a place Alessandro swore had the best late-night margherita in the entire city. You walked with Harry, arm wrapped tightly around his middle, your body practically glued to his side.

You kept kissing his shoulder as you walked. His arm never left your back.

“You know how much I love you?” you asked, not quietly.

Harry glanced down at you with a soft laugh. “How much, bun?”

You stopped suddenly in the middle of the street. “This much,” you declared, stretching your arms wide, nearly twirling in your spot.

He caught you before you could wobble too far and kissed your forehead, tucking you safely back under his arm. “That’s a lot.”

“You’re my favorite person,” you whispered into his chest.

He squeezed you closer. “You’re mine, too.”

Eventually, the group stumbled into the tiny pizza shop Alessandro had spoken of, and you curled up beside Harry in the booth, half-asleep on his shoulder by the time your slices arrived. He fed you bites between sips of water and whispered something against your hair that made you giggle again.

“Kade?” Your jaw dropped at the new information.

Kade was an exceptionally quiet guy, and you were a bit shocked to know that he put himself out there with someone other than his wife.

Clearing his throat, he nodded as he fiddled with his wedding ring. “It was something we both wanted to try, and the opportunity arose when we were at a party once. One thing led to another and…”

“Male or female?” Harry spoke up for the first time since the conversation started, and you glanced over to him for a moment before looking back to the couple across from you.

“Male,” Julia smiled, biting down on her bottom lip afterwards. “It was thrilling. It brought Kade and I a lot closer sexually as well.”

You sat back in your seat as you cradled your glass of wine against your chest, studying Harry’s profile as he popped a piece of cheese from the charcuterie board into his mouth.

“So…is that something you’ve thought about?” Julia raised her eyebrows, peering at you over the bottom of her wine glass.

“No,” you shook your head, reaching forward to grab a grape which you held in your hand as you gestured between you and Harry. “This right here is all I need. I don’t think I’ll ever want to be with anyone but Harry - even if he were to be involved too. I’m happy with it being just us.”

“Well what about when you guys were on your break?” You winced as Julia brought up one of the worst periods of your life that took place three years ago. “Surely you saw someone else then.”

“I didn’t,” you took a bigger gulp of wine before eating the grape you had picked up. “I went on a few dates here and there, but nothing ever came of them. I wasn’t ready to move on. My heart was still Harry’s.”

Looking over to your fiancé once more, you could see his jaw twitch as his hand gripped a bit harder to his glass. The break up was a sensitive subject for the both of you. Once you had talked your way through it after getting back together, it wasn’t something you spoke of often.

“Wow, I didn’t know that,” Julia turned her attention to Harry after speaking. “What about you Harry? Could you have a threesome?”

There was a big part of you that didn’t want Harry to answer, and you wished Julia would drop it, but you didn’t want to come off as rude. Julia and Kade were Harry’s friends after all. You felt like you had an impression to make.

“I don’t think I could have a threesome either, no.”

Relief washed over you as you heard Harry speak, and you gave him a soft smile even though he still wasn’t looking over at you.

“But I did see someone else during our break.”

The smile that had just appeared faltered instantly as you felt a tugging in your chest.

This was news to you. Harry had never told you that he had seen someone else during your break. Sure, you never asked, and you knew you didn’t really have a reason to be upset because you weren’t together at the time, but it stunned you that he had never brought it up.

“What?” You asked, but Harry kept his head down.

Silence blanketed over the table, and you heard the sound of chairs scraping against the stone underneath you all after a few seconds.

“We should probably be heading home. We’re already running a bit late, and we have to relieve the sitter,” Kade said as he helped Julia up from her seat as well. “I know we’re busy with work during the week, but if we find some time to meet up with you guys again, we’ll let you know.”

You looked over to them after breaking out of your trance, and you forced another smile onto your face as you stood up from your own chair. “Of course, just let us know. Our plans are pretty lax while we’re here.”

Truthfully, you hoped they didn’t try to make plans again because this clearly was enough. 

Hugs and goodbyes were exchanged among the four of you, and once Julia and Kade left, you grabbed your bottle of wine to empty the rest of it into your glass. You gulped it down in just four sips before putting the glass back down onto the table.

“I’ll wait for you by the bikes.”

Not sparing Harry a second glance, you made your way off the outdoor terrace of the restaurant and towards the entrance where you had locked your bikes up against a light pole. Your fingers were shaking as you tried to enter in the combination on your lock, but you kept slipping too far past the correct numbers with your trembling.

Tears of frustration began to prick at the corners of your eyes after a few minutes, and it was then you saw large hands drop on top of yours - the cross tattoo you knew so well on display.

“Let me.”

You allowed your hands to pull away from underneath Harry’s, and you switched spots to let him properly unlock the bike for you. Once that was done, you let him silently help you on it, and when he stationed himself on top of his, you started to make your way back to the cottage.

It wasn’t too far, which was why you made the decision to ride your bikes tonight instead of ordering a taxi.

The ride back went by like a blur, and it wasn’t until you were following Harry into the gravel driveway that you realized you were already there. You brought your bike up to the side of the building, propping it up there for Harry to lock up as you made your way inside.

You immediately made your way into the kitchen, your destination being the wine rack, and you grabbed the first bottle of red that caught your eye. After placing it down, you opened it easily with the corkscrew - pouring yourself a large glass before pushing yourself up to sit on the counter.

Harry entered the room just a minute or so later, and you took in a deep breath as you grabbed an extra glass to pour him some of the wine as well. You handed it to him, and he leaned against the counter that was across the kitchen from the one you were occupying.

“So, what do you want to know?” Harry asked, keeping his eyes off of you.

Licking over your bottom lip, you shook your head and looked down at your lap. “I don’t know if I even want to know anything. I think I’ll just be hurting myself if I ask for answers and details.”

“Come on, Y/N,” Harry scoffed, taking a second to sip his wine before continuing. “I’ve just told you that I was with someone while we were broken up. I’ve slept with someone else. That’s something you didn’t have knowledge of, and you’re really going to sit there and tell me you don’t want to know more? You don’t want me to elaborate on anything?”

“No, I don’t.”

That caused a groan to leave your fiancé as he started to stalk around the kitchen, lifting a hand to undo the buttons of his oversized dress shirt - having it fall completely open. 

“You’re fucking lying,” his voice dropped, and you looked over at him to now see that he was glaring at you. “This is what you do. I upset you, you say there’s nothing wrong, or you bottle it up, and then the second something happens, you use it against me. So, tell me what it is you want to know, dammit.”

“I’m sorry, but why the hell are you speaking to me like this?” You bit back, placing your wine glass down beside you to grip your hands around the edge of the counter top. “I’m not the one who just dropped a bombshell on our relationship.”

“It’s not a bombshell! We weren’t together!”

“Exactly! So what makes you think that I would want to know anything about it if we weren’t even a thing at the time? It’s not like it was an affair,” you cried, nails digging into the tile. It grew quiet, and you felt your heart sink into your stomach. “It…it wasn’t an affair, right?”

“No,” Harry shook his head, downing his glass of wine before grabbing the bottle and pouring himself another. “It wasn’t. It happened a month after the break up, and it ended two months before we got back together.”

Your break up was a total of seven months. The darkest seven months of your entire life.

“I don’t want to know anymore,” you stated, lifting your hands to cover your ears. “Please.”

Once you were sure that Harry wasn’t going to continue speaking on the horrific subject, you reached for your wine again - knocking half the glass back which Harry quickly refilled.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you,” he whispered. “You were honest with me about your dates, and that you weren’t intimate with anyone. I should’ve shown you the same respect.”

“It doesn’t matter. You were free to do whatever or whoever you wanted. That was what we decided at that time. The last thing I want is to actually hear about it though.”

Looking over to him, you and Harry made proper eye contact for the first time since the restaurant, and he set his glass down besides yours before forcing himself between your parted legs.

“I know what I’d like to hear,” he tilted his chin up to ghost his lips over yours while his palms started to push your dress up your thighs. 

Although you were upset, he always had a way of fogging your mind with lust in an instant. It was something you were more than aware of - something you willingly gave in to if you knew that it wouldn’t harm your mental state depending on the circumstances, or if it wasn’t a means for the two of you to run away from an issue.

“Yeah, and what’s that?”

“This sweet little mouth,” Harry lifted a hand to cup your jaw - fingertips squeezing into your cheeks to part your lips before finishing his sentence. “Moaning my fucking name.”

“Well, you better get to work then, Harry,” you panted into his open mouth, your words slightly distorted due the position he had you in. “Unless you want me to make myself moan, but then I’ll make it a point to not have your name leave my lips.”

With his grip tightening ever so slightly on your face, Harry arched your neck back so he could hover over you. Your eyes remained on each other as he puckered his wine-stained lips, and he slowly dropped a dollop of his saliva onto the pad of your tongue.

“Swallow.”

When his hand fell away from your face, you didn’t move an inch as you obeyed him, and he hummed upon seeing your compliance. Before you could even blink, Harry’s lips were against yours - tongues immediately battling for dominance.

Your hands came down onto the counter, causing both your wine glasses to get knocked over into the sink. The sound of glass shattering didn’t interrupt the two of you in the slightest as you pushed Harry’s shirt off his torso completely so you could rake your fingers down his bare chest.

A growl erupted in Harry’s throat, and he reached up to grab the front of your dress where the buttons ran up the middle. He pulled at it until it ripped - the sound of plastic ricocheted off the surfaces around you, and the damaged material soon met his shirt on the floor.

You were now only in a thong as it was too hot for you to bother with a bra this evening, and the dress had been fairly loose, so you felt comfortable without it.

Ringed fingers began to knead at your supple chest before the tips of them tugged at your nipples to get them up to perfect peaks. Harry’s mouth soon replaced the calloused sensation, causing you to shiver and goosebumps to cover your body as his spit slicked every bit of your tits he could get his tongue on.

“Oh, Harry,” you moaned, hand tangling into the back of his hair to give his sweaty curls a nice tug.

“That’s it, baby. Say my name. I’ll have you screaming it before I’m done with you.”

Harry kissed down your body, and your underwear soon met the already discarded clothing as he got down on his knees. He wasted no time as he pulled you to the edge of the counter to bury his face into your saturated cunt - earning him another yank to his locks. You rolled your hips against his face to grind your clit against the bridge of his nose which already had your toes curling at the sensation.

If there was one thing about Harry, he was going to make out with your pussy every chance he could, and you would never complain about that. He was a true artist with his tongue, his teeth and his lips. It made you wonder how anyone that had him and then lost him could ever move on from it.

As he feasted on you, you couldn’t help the fact that your mind honed in on his new confession, and what left your mouth next escaped before you could stop it.

“Do I know her?” You gasped just as his front teeth grazed your achy bud, but soon all movement ceased.

Looking down as Harry pulled his face away from you with knitted brows, he licked over his bottom lip that was glistening in your arousal. “What?”

“I asked you a question - do I know her?” You repeated yourself without a second thought while loosening the grip you had on his hair. 

“I thought you didn’t want me to-”

“Answer me.”

A loud sigh left Harry’s lips as he dropped his forehead to the inside of your thigh, and just when you thought he wasn’t going to answer you, a name tumbled from his lips.

“Fia. It was Fia.”

The name that you so desperately hoped it wouldn’t be was the one that lingered in the air as your hand fell from his curls completely, and you felt your throat tightening with emotions. Reaching out beside you, you blindly grabbed the half empty bottle of wine that managed to survive earlier before bringing it to your lips. You started chugging the crimson liquid in the hopes that it would ease the ache that was creeping in to consume your entire being.

“Y/N,” Harry lifted his head, and you knew he was looking at you, but you kept your eyes to the ceiling as you pulled the bottle away from your mouth. “Baby, please, it wasn’t what you think.”

Fucking Fia.

You knew of her very well. She was an interior designer - the architectural company that Harry worked for hired her quite often. Any time there was a big job where they needed those skills at the ready, Fia was their go-to girl.

Unfortunately, you had come across her presence many times at work events that were thrown here and there, and you knew by the way she looked at Harry, who was only your boyfriend at the time, that she wanted him. It was obvious in the way she batted her eyelashes, or the way she trailed the tip of her deep red fingernail over the lapel of one of his suit jackets.

Oddly enough, she was the cause of most of the arguments you and Harry had ever experienced. You told him how you felt, and how you knew that she wanted something more, but Harry told you there was nothing there - there was nothing you needed to worry about.

But now…now it was evident that wasn’t the truth at all.

The one person you had ever told him you had an issue with was the one he went running to once you both agreed to take a break.

And on top of all that, you had still seen her a time or two after getting back together with Harry. It didn’t strike you as odd that she didn’t approach them like she had in the past, you figured that maybe she had gotten the hint and decided to move on to the next prey. 

You never would’ve thought that her avoidance was due to their own relationship not working out.

Bringing your free hand down, you lightly pushed against Harry’s shoulder so there was space between him and the counter, and you carefully lowered yourself down. Your wedges clicked against the floor as you made your way into the living room to wrap yourself in a blanket so you were no longer exposed - bottle dangling in your curled fingers as you sat down on the couch.

“I promise you that what I told you before our break was true. There was nothing going on between us, and she had never tried to make a move until we were separated,” Harry followed after you once he gave you a few seconds, but you turned your face away from him as you drew another long sip of wine. “The first time it happened-”

“I don’t want to hear about it!” You screamed at him, finally looking over to him with bloodshot eyes as tears angrily streaked down your already flushed cheeks. “I really didn’t want to before, but now…now that I know it was her? I can’t listen to it, Harry. I just can’t.”

Your words got lost as you shut your eyes tight, and you immediately pushed yourself off the surface below to go into the master bedroom of the cottage - blanket slipping off your shoulders.

Once inside, you set the bottle down on your nightstand, and you kicked your wedges off before sliding under the covers completely naked. There was no way you were going to be bothered with putting pajamas on in the state you were in.

You hoped that Harry wouldn’t follow you. You needed your space tonight.

From the combination of your violent sobs and the wine you consumed, you finally found yourself in a deep sleep after just half an hour of being left alone with your wandering mind.

⚇ ⚇ ⚇ ⚇

The next morning, you woke up to a throbbing head, and when you went to blink your eyes open, you could feel how swollen they were from the night before. You pushed yourself out of bed, heading into the ensuite to down two Tylenol, and then you moved to the closet to throw on a nightgown.

As you went to leave the room, upon opening the door, you saw a tray on the floor with toast, sunny side up eggs, a bowl of fruit and a mug of coffee. It was then that the events of last night came barreling back into your mind, and you swallowed harshly as the weight you had gone to bed with began to settle back in your chest.

You looked down the hallway where you could see the kitchen, but you didn’t see Harry in there. You figured he was probably in the guest room that was just a couple of doors down.

Sighing, you leaned down and grabbed the tray, shutting the door with your foot, and you sat down in the middle of bed. You stared at the spread in front of you - reaching out to cup the mug in your palms. It warmed your skin instantly, and you knew that it couldn’t have been sitting out there that long before you found it.

As you forced yourself to eat, knowing it would help with your hangover and because you had plans, tears began to streak down your cheeks once more. You told yourself this was all the crying you were going to allow for today. You’d allow yourself to do it again in bed tonight if you felt like you needed to, but you wouldn’t let Harry see you cry again.

You glanced over to the clock as you finished eating, and you realized you had only twenty minutes to get ready for the day. You and Harry had made today a beach day. Every part of you wanted to bail. It was going to be hard seeing him, however, this was your vacation - you were going to try your best to not let this ruin it.

It didn’t take long for you to throw your hair up into a messy bun, tug on your teal colored bikini, and drape your black cover up over top. After brushing your teeth, you grabbed the large tote bag you had brought from home specifically for this day, filling it with a couple of books, sunscreen and a change of clothes in case you wanted to do some sightseeing once you left the sand.

With your empty tray in your hands, you walked into the kitchen with the strap of the tote over your shoulder, and you placed the dishes inside the sink. You saw that the shattered wine glasses from before we cleaned up - not a trace of the mishap in its wake.

You weren’t sure how long you had zoned out before you heard footsteps. The noise caught your attention, causing you to look over and see Harry coming down the hall with an empty tray himself. He too was dressed for the beach with his own tote.

Clearing your throat, you pushed yourself away from the sink and grabbed the picnic basket that was on the counter top. You made your way over to the fridge to begin filling it with the fruits you had cut and stored into containers, as well as an array of meats and cheeses for you to snack on while you were out in the sun.

“I wasn’t sure if you were going to be up to going to the beach today,” Harry broke the silence, and you laughed, looking over your shoulder to him, but you didn’t meet his eyes.

“Of course I am. We’re on vacation, aren’t we?”

“Y/N,” you knew that he was seeing through the facade you were trying to put up to protect yourself. You had to do it though. “If you’re not up for it, we can stay at the cottage.”

“And why would we do that?”

Harry sighed behind you, and then you felt his presence vanish. He probably went outside to get your bikes situated.

Once you finished packing up the basket, you walked outside to see that you were correct - Harry had set up both of your bikes, so all you had do was put your tote bag in the basket on the front, and drape the handles of the picnic basket over one of the handlebar grips before you were all set to start off. Harry took off first since he was familiar with the area, and you made sure you followed closely behind.

The ride wasn’t long - consisting of Harry peeking over his shoulder every now and then to make sure that you were okay and safe.

In just a short amount of time, the two of you were at the beach, parking your bikes and locking them up against the fence before heading down onto the sand. You set up your space quickly, each of you spreading out your towels before removing your excess clothing to leave you both in just your bathing suits.

You laid down opposite of each other, feet by the other's heads with you on your stomach so you could comfortably read your book, and Harry on his back with his eyes closed.

About an hour had passed when you were feeling ready for a snack, so you sat up criss-cross style to grab the container of watermelon that you had packed. You continued to read with your book still in front of you, stabling that with one hand as you munched on fruit with the other.

“You’re getting a little pink,” Harry commented, but you kept your eyes on your book.

“Okay, I’ll apply some more sunscreen once I’m finished snacking.”

As you took another bite of watermelon, you kept the piece up near your mouth - dragging the tip of your pinky up the middle of your chin to catch the juice that was starting to drip. 

“I can do it for you,” you heard Harry say, and you looked up from your book to the rolling water in front of you before marking your page and dropping the half-eaten fruit back into the container.

“I’ve got it.”

“Please, don’t be stubborn. Go ahead and continue eating and reading, and I’ll just-”

“I said I can do it myself, Harry,” you snapped, grabbing the bottle of sunscreen that he had just retrieved from one of your bags.

You could see out of the corner of your eye that he remained propped up on his knees beside you - hands dropped against the tops of his thighs in defeat. 

Ignoring him, you wiped your hands clean on some of the napkins that you brought, and then rubbed sunscreen into your palms before beginning to coat it over your body.

Every part of you screamed that you were being difficult. That you were probably overreacting, and you were treating your fiancé like shit, but it was like you couldn’t stop. You were hurt, and as much as you hated it, there was part of you that wanted to make him hurt in return.

“I’m going to go cool off.”

Harry tossed his hat and sunglasses down onto his towel before heading down the beach. He stopped where the waves crashed for only a moment, pushing further out and up to the middle of his torso after a little while. You were grateful that you had your sunglasses on because you were definitely staring - something you didn’t want him to know.

The way the water shimmered on his tattooed skin had you changing the way you were sitting so that you could press your thighs together as you needed to release the tension growing in your core. It was almost unfair how effortlessly gorgeous Harry was. He never even had to try.

Once Harry returned from the water, he also had some snacks from the basket you had packed, and you spent the majority of the day out on the sand before the sun started to go down.

Back at the cottage, you went into the ensuite attached to the master bedroom to shower, and you returned to the kitchen dressed in flowy sundress to find Harry preparing dinner. There was light music playing as you walked over to the wine rack - deja vu hitting you of the night before as you stared at the bottles in front of you.

“Y/N,” Harry said your name after you picked out a bottle, and you had started towards the cabinet to grab a wine glass. “Can we please talk?”

“If it’s about that then no,” you shook your head as you went to grab the corkscrew off the counter, but Harry snatched it before you could. 

“You’re just going to ignore me for the rest of the trip then - is that it?” 

You could hear the hurt and confusion in his voice.

“I think it’s more than reasonable for me to just want to take a day to process everything. The last thing I want to do is something irrational, or say something that I don’t mean, so I’d very much appreciate it if you leave me be until tomorrow.”

“I get that you’re upset. I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t feel the same way if our situation was reversed right now, and I feel so incredibly guilty for the way I came clean to you about it. Doing it at dinner in front of Julia and Kade was not the right setting, and I apologize, but I need something from you here,” Harry pleaded, and you heard him suck in a deep breath. “I have absolutely no insight as to what’s going on in your head.”

You could feel him pushing you over the edge as you clamped your eyes shut - fingers curling to have your nails digging into the heel of your palm as your other hand still held the wine bottle.

“Please, baby. I just want to-”

“You want to know how I feel?” Your voice came out louder than intended right off the start, and you finally looked over to Harry to see that his eyes were wide. “I feel completely betrayed! I feel almost manipulated, and I feel like a fucking idiot!”

“You don’t need to feel like-”

“Stop talking,” the emotions running through you had your bottom lip starting to tremble, and you felt your eyes beginning to sting. “You wanted me to talk, so I am, and you’re going to listen to me.”

Harry remained quiet before he gave you a nod, and you could see his eyes welling up too.

“The one person that caused us so many issues is the person you went to right after I was gone. That is such a huge slap in the face, Harry, and I can’t help but have all these reasons as to why you didn’t tell me about it.

“I feel like you didn’t want to tell me because you had this fear that if I had known you had been with Fia, that I wouldn’t have wanted to get back together, and honestly, I don’t know if I would have! That’s why I feel manipulated. You knew exactly what you were doing by keeping this from me.”

A sob wrecked through your chest before you continued. “And then you had the nerve to bring me to these events that you knew she would be at once we were back together. She had to fucking look at me, and I had to look at her. I even tried to be nice to her at the last event because I wanted to be better for you. I wanted to leave my insecurities behind. That was so selfish of you. So fucking selfish.”

Your chest jumped as more sobs escaped your lungs, and you let out a frustrated scream as you raised the wine bottle, going to slam it against the tiled floor, but Harry’s hands wrapped around your wrists in time. He pulled you close to his chest as you cried out, going limp in his arms to have collapsing to your knees - Harry coming down with you.

He reached up to place the bottle on the counter before sitting on the floor with his back against the cabinets, and he dragged you into his lap while shushing you softly.

You felt out of your body. You knew you weren’t yourself. Even Harry holding you didn’t feel real.

“Y/N, I need you to breathe, baby,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, and then to your temple. “You’re so worked up right now, and I understand that. I’m here for you, but I need you to calm down.”

A short wail left you before your breath hitched in the back of your throat as you pressed your face into the side of his neck. It was too overwhelming - absolutely too much. 

All of a sudden it was like you were back in the old apartment you shared with Harry, but it was the first night of your break up, and you were there all alone. This was a state you swore to yourself that you’d never let yourself get into again, yet here you were so close to it.

“Fia and I hooked up for the first time on a drunken night after an event,” Harry spoke softly, and as much as you wanted to push him away so that you didn’t have to hear him, you also wanted to give him a chance. Maybe this was what you needed in order to move on. “Our relationship after that…it was never really official. We hooked up when we were bored, spent the night over at each other’s places every now and then, but we were in no way dating.

“It ended because I realized we weren’t compatible in any way - not even the sex. That pissed her off because she felt like we were. I’m going to sound like a piece of shit with what I’m about to say, but this is exactly what I said to her, so I’m going to also say it so you can hear it.”

Forcing you to bring your face up so he could look into your eyes, you watched Harry’s soften when you knew he could see how puffy yours were. 

“She was a convenience. I was broken, and lonely without you, and I used her to get my mind off you - even if it was only for a few minutes.”

Harry’s hands cupped your cheeks, and you lifted yours to wrap around his forearms. “She didn’t compare to you in the slightest. No one could compare to you.”

“Harry-”

“I’m not finished,” he pressed the pad of his thumb against your lips, shaking his head. “When you called me that night to come and pick you up from that bar, I fucking thanked whoever was up there for bringing you back to me. I was elated at the fact that I was the first person you thought of to come and get you. I didn’t care that you were drunk, and that you could’ve resented me the next morning when you woke up and realized that you begged for me to stay in your bed with you. It didn’t matter because at least I got to see you one last time if you decided you didn’t want to try again.

“I promise you that me not telling you about Fia wasn’t because I was scared you wouldn’t take me back. It was because I couldn’t fathom hurting you even worse than I already had by dismissing the feelings you had towards her. I wanted to tell you so many times. I know it was wrong now for me to just assume that you were better off with me never doing so.”

You stared into moss-colored irises as you processed everything that he had just told you. Although your mind was still nagging at you, trying to give you reasons that were the complete opposite of Harry’s explanation for everything, you had to remind yourself of one thing.

Harry had never been a liar.

Sure, he may have kept this from you, but never once had he fully lied to you before, therefore, you had no reason to believe that he created this whole scenario just to stay in your good graces.

“So you weren’t dating?” You asked, moving a hand up to start playing with a string hanging off the collar of his shirt to distract yourself. “You didn’t like her…like you like me?”

“Not even close to both of those things, baby. I never took her out anywhere. To be honest, I don’t even know if I really liked Fia at all. She was whiny, and towards the end she tried to be controlling. I could see that she was wanting more, and I didn’t. It had never even crossed my mind to pursue things further with her.”

Nodding, you leaned back down to rest the side of your neck against his chest. “I’m sorry I got so upset. It was just a lot to take in.”

“Please don’t apologize,” Harry’s fingers stroked through your wet hair. “I’m the only one who needed to do any apologizing here.”

It remained quiet between the two of you for a while as you just held each other - listening to the soft music that still continued to play throughout the room.

“I want you to show me,” you spoke up, and you maneuvered yourself around in Harry’s arms so you were looking directly at him. “Show me that no one compares. Show me that I’m better than her.”

Harry’s pupils dilated as he squeezed your hips, and you could already feel him hardening up underneath you. “Are you sure, Y/N? We always said that we wouldn’t use sex as a-”

“Distraction? Yes, I’m aware. That’s not what I’m doing here. I don’t want a distraction. I want you.”

Not sparing another second, Harry was scooping you off of the floor and carrying you down the hallway into the master bedroom. Your back soon met the mattress, but you propped yourself up onto your elbows so you could throw your dress off - sending it across the room. You were completely naked underneath, something that you could see had his hunger rising even more.

“You always tell me that you like it when I praise you, when I talk you through it,” Harry pulled his t-shirt over his head before working his lounge shorts off. The outline of his cock was prominent against the material of his briefs, and the sight had your mouth watering. “Is that what you want from me tonight, mama?”

Mama.

That pet name did something else to you entirely. Whenever he called you that, this specific tingling feeling would fester at the bottom of your spine, and the more he used it during your intimacy, that feeling ended up cocooning you entirely.

You nodded as his hands wrapped around your ankles, and he had you flipped onto your stomach before you could even take another breath. With his grip still on you, he pushed your legs forward to have you properly on your knees before positioning himself right behind you. His covered erection rubbed against your eager cunt, causing you to moan into the pillow in front of your face.

“None of that,” he scolded, a palm swatting down against one of the rounds of your ass. “I want your noises, and I meant what I said last night, I want your mouth moaning my name.”

Looking at Harry over your shoulder, your eyes trailed over him as he pushed his briefs off his body. He kept his sight on you while gripping to the base of his cock so he could rub his tip through your arousal ridden folds, and you gasped while arching your back. You wanted him inside of you as soon as possible.

“Harry,” you whimpered, leaning down to have your cheek resting the bed so that your ass was pressed perfectly against his pelvis. “Need you now.”

“I haven’t prepped you, baby.”

Shaking your head, you rolled your hips in an attempt to have his tip catch your entrance - just so you could feel some part of him in you already. “I don’t need it. Please.”

Harry huffed out a breath as he ran his fingers through your slick to rub it over his length, and he gave himself a few strokes before he started to sink himself inside of you. Your eyes shut with a gasp expelling from your lungs as your fists gripped to the comforter.

“Your precious little cunt is hugging right to me just like it always does,” Harry’s filthy words filled your ears, and you opened your eyes only to have them roll into the back of your head due to what left his mouth next. “Taking me so well. There’s nothing quite like watching you grip my cock.”

Once sheathed fully inside of you, Harry stayed still before drawing out halfway. When he pushed back in, he went at a faster rate - a huff of breath pushed past your lips as the curve of his prick bounced right against your g-spot. 

“Hitting so deep inside you, baby.”

“So deep,” you babbled, not even realizing that you repeated what he said as he started up a pattern of forceful thrusts.

Harry’s large hands rubbed over your ass, and he pulled your cheeks apart to get a better view of where he disappeared inside of you. He bit down on his bottom lip as he reached forward to the nightstand. You were in such a state of pleasure that you didn’t even realize he was multitasking, but when you opened your eyes, you saw him pulling a foil packet from the drawer beside you.

You whined as you looked back once again, and you watched him smear the pad of his tongue along his index and middle fingers before running them over your tightest hole. You jolted at the sensation which caused Harry to chuckle.

“I could just use lube, but I know you like my spit all over you - making a mess. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, yes,” you agreed. “I love it so much.”

“You wanna know something?” Harry asked you, and you nodded in response as your eyes trailed over his face.

With his fingers still loosening up your rear entrance, he brought his other hand up to rip the foil with his teeth. You cried out as his cock left you, but you could see that he was now rolling a rubber down onto his length. 

Harry prodded his tip against the tight band of muscles he had been working on before easing himself into you. “She never got to have me like this.”

Your scream echoed across the room as he plunged fully inside while feeling his hand smooth over the expanse of your back. “What do you mean?”

“This warm and tight hole of yours is the only one of these I’ve ever fucked. Never wanted to have anyone else here but you.”

You weren’t sure why that statement turned you on all the more, and you clenched down around him.

“You like knowing that, mama? That your plump little ass is the only one to ever have my cock? Felt you squeezing me.”

“Only me?” you weren’t even fully aware of what you were saying. “You promise?”

Harry leaned down, his movements ceasing for a moment as he pressed his lips against your shoulder blades and then the back of your neck. “Only you, Y/N, I promise. It’s only ever going to be you. That goes for everything. Why else do you think I put that pretty ring on your finger? You’re the only one for me.”

You smiled at his words, your eyes slipping shut as he slipped his hands underneath your torso to cup your breasts. He used the leverage to push your back right up against his chest - wanting the two of you to be as close as possible.

“I love you, Harry,” you turned your head to look at him again. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” he leaned down to give you a searing kiss - both of you stretching your necks a bit to get there. “I’m gonna get back to showing you that now, yeah?”

You giggled against his mouth as you nodded. “Yes, please.”

Harry planted another peck to your lips before ghosting his hands back to your hips to hold you in the proper place as he started to pulse his thick cock in and out of your tightest hole. The heat in your lower abdomen began to rise - thighs trembling as you felt your climax growing.

“Fuck, I wanna come in your cunt,” Harry pulled out suddenly, emitting a gasp from you as he tore the condom off and tossed it onto the ground to deal with later.

It wasn’t a second later that he was filling your wet walls once again, and you knew that you were right there at your orgasm. 

Harry shifted the two of you around to where you were practically sitting in his lap but the both of you were still kneeling with him behind you - your hands wrapped around his toned thighs as he used the leverage on your hips to bounce you up and down his girthy shaft.

“C’mon, mama,” he crooned in your ear, slipping his teeth down your earlobe as he dropped a hand to pinch at your needy clit. “Cream all over me, and then milk me for every drop I’m worth.”

Throwing your head back against his shoulder, you spasmed around Harry’s prick as you found yourself wrapped up in pure bliss. Your grip on him never lessened, if anything, you started to pound back against him even harder - you wanted his come. You needed it. 

“Oh fuck, Y/N,” Harry whimpered as his lips found your neck. “Take it, and hold it up in there.”

His hand left your clit once he knew he rode you through your climax so he could hold it over your stomach - signaling to you exactly where he would be coming.

Only a second later, you heard him stutter out a moan as he fucked his come up into you. The sound was erotic, and it caused you to clench down around him even harder than you already were. 

With heaving chests and short breaths, Harry waited a few seconds before pulling out of you. “Let me get you to the bathroom, baby.”

Picking you up like you were nothing, he cradled you to his chest as he walked you into the ensuite and placed you down on the toilet. He ran a hand over your hair before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m just going to clean up the room, and then I’ll be back.”

You did your business in the bathroom, and you fixed yourself up a little bit in the mirror before walking back into the bedroom to see the windows slightly cracked. Harry had already done the bed back up properly with your discarded clothes being picked up from the floor - the condom as well.

When he came back into the room, you could tell he had taken care of cleaning himself up elsewhere, and you smiled at him as you pulled the sheets back on the bed to slip underneath them. 

Harry didn’t hesitate on climbing in the linens with you, but he didn’t break eye contact with you the entire time while doing it. You were both still naked, and a little bit sweaty, however neither of you cared. This is what the both of you needed after last night and today.

Although it wasn’t very late, it was apparent that you and Harry were exhausted, and as wonderful as dinner sounded, a nap beforehand was a lot more appealing.

“Harry,” you whispered against his lips as you both were exchanging slow and small kisses. “Can we nap with you inside of me?”

“Of course, baby. You know I love that just as much as you do.”

Spitting into his palm, Harry slipped it underneath the sheets to lather his length before using the excess against your entrance. You helped him out by draping your leg over his hip, and you each groaned as he pushed his half-hard cock inside of you.

“Feel okay?” He asked, forehead resting against yours.

“Mhmm, feels perfect.”

With the fresh evening air flowing around the room, the two of you held each other close as your drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

⚇ ⚇ ⚇ ⚇

About three months ago, the company for which Harry worked had started their expansion, and he was to lead the people transferred to that section of the firm. With the expansion also came new employees, and that’s where you came in.

You had been temporarily hired by the company to weed out applicants, and assist the current HR manager to help with the job interviews.

Harry still remembers that first day when you walked into the office, all nervous and fidgety. He had spotted you through the glass walls of his office, and couldn't physically tear his eyes off of you.

It wasn't until your third day helping in the office, that you actually met Harry. You had no idea what to think of him. Well, besides the obvious, of course. He was ridiculously handsome, and from the way he was staring at you, you figured that maybe he was thinking something like that about you too.

But he didn't talk.

Your first time meeting consisted of nothing but a gruff 'nice to meet you' from Harry's side, and no input in the rest of the conversation whatsoever. It was only a couple days later, when you asked the HR manager about it, that you found out that's just how he was, that he didn't really talk to anyone. From that moment on, there had been a surge of motivation to let him make you the one exception.

Harry was just fascinated by you, and he had no idea why. You were a ball of energy, talking so fast you'd think someone had clicked on your 'sped up' button, and you were chaotic, all over the place. The amount of times he watched you bump into people was impossible to keep count of.

Then, one day, you bumped into him. It should have angered him, the spilt coffee on his pants. But he had an extra suit, and you looked so worried, he didn't want to make you feel worse. You still felt bad, though, so you decided to make it up to him, and started getting him coffee every morning.

By the end of the first week, he looked you in the eyes when he thanked you. By the end of the fourth, he'd ask you how you are and recall things you'd told him. By the end of sixth, he told you things about his life, and by the end of the tenth week, you were having longer conversations with him.

It was difficult to keep up the small talk with him in the beginning. You soon found out that his lone wolf attitude may had something to do with his awkwardness. You thought, perhaps people weren't willing to work through that, and eventually he just stopped trying.

Such a prospect made you sad, and it only motivated you more to get to know him better. Of course, the longing glances, and standing unnecessarily close to each other with his knuckles barely touching your arm, those things helped too.

There was an undeniable tension between the two of you that you found incredibly difficult to decipher. The way he'd let you catch him looking at you gave it away quite clearly, but the lack of any real initiative confused you.

Had you read it all wrong? Did he even think there was something there too?

Unfortunately, there was no way to find out, as your assignment at the company was coming to an end. Today had been your last day, and tonight is a launch party to officially celebrate the expansion of the company.

You were a little sad to leave the company, especially since you really liked the people working there. It is why you are most excited for tonight.

Wearing a long yellow dress—it is your favorite color—you stride into the building. You are mesmerized by all the balloons and how pretty everyone looks. Wearing expensive suits or classy dresses. You immediately realize you might be a bit too happily dressed; everyone is wearing darker colors.

It does make it easy for everyone to spot you, though. By the time you've gotten your drink, five people have already walked up to you. About half an hour into the party, the CEO of the company takes the stage to give a small speech.

"I would like to thank everyone who has participated in making this expansion go as smoothly as it did. Your work does not go unnoticed." He says through the microphone. Everyone claps for a few seconds, and the man waits to go on until it is quiet again.

"Now, I have a special announcement to make. I have wanted to make this expansion happen since I began working for this company in 1988. Now that I finally have, I feel that my job at this firm is done. And so, I have decided to retire from my position as CEO."

Your eyes widen at the speech; you had no idea this was even a thing. By the sound of the gasps and murmurs traveling through the room, you deduce that the news is unexpected for the rest of the company as well.

"It is also with great pride that I present the new CEO of our company, chosen after careful consideration. If mr. Harry Styles could please join me on stage."

Your mouth falls open at the mention of Harry's name, and you are certain you will never be able to close it again when you see him walking onto the stage. He wears a black suit, perfectly tailored to his body, and the sight of him has you concerned that you may be drooling.

The bald man hands the microphone to Harry, who does not look very pleased to be on stage; it almost seems like he is regretting his decisions. Until his eyes meet yours, that is when you see him let out a breath.

"Thank you, Mr. Johnson." He says, breaking eye contact to look at his former boss.

Right, that was his name, Johnson.

"I look forward to leading this company into more successes, and I promise that I will put my heart and soul into it. I have worked at this firm ever since I graduated college and they offered me a job during my internship, and it is safe to say that I have not regretted that decision a day of my life. I have always been loyal to this company, and I will remain loyal to you. Thank you."

You are perplexed. Why did he never tell you about this? You are very happy for him, but you do find it weird. It also makes you doubt again. Did whatever you had been building up the last months not mean as much to Harry as it did to you?

Well, it doesn't really matter, you're gone after tonight anyway.

Once the shock of the news has calmed down a bit, the party resumes as normal. Most people visit Harry one by one to congratulate him on the position, but you steer clear from him. It is no use, after tonight you will probably never see him again anyway.

Time passes, and you think you're ready to go home. There was a file in the office you forgot to sign earlier today, so you head up to do that first. The office is entirely dark when you walk out of the elevator. It's kind of eerie, so you are quick to turn on the lights.

It takes you a few minutes to find the file, since the receptionist placed it on someone else's desk. You find it on your colleague's desk, and walk over to the receptionist desk to sign it. Laying it on the keyboard of her computer, you pray that she won't displace it again, and make your way back to the elevators.

A loud shriek escapes you when Harry suddenly walks around the corner. He covers his ears at the high pitched sound, shocked by how much he scared you. With your hand on your chest you try and steady your breathing.

"Jesus, you scared the crap out of me."

"Sorry, didn't mean to." He says, a bit of worry in his tone. You look up at him.

"What are you even doing up here?"

"I was looking for you." He shrugs.

"Why?" Your eyebrows furrow, that same old tension in your stomach settling like it does every time Harry looks at you for longer than two seconds.

"You've been avoiding me." He answers casually, and you feel your heart drop. You didn't think he'd catch onto it.

"Congratulations by the way, for being the CEO. That was definitely a surprise." There is a bitterness in your tone. It is Harry's turn to frown. He hears the condescension, but his mind can't seem to come to a conclusion. Why are you angry? It's so hard to tell.

This is why he doesn't do people.

"You're mad that I am CEO?" He guesses, and your mouth falls open, much like it did when Harry's new position got announced.

"What?! Of course not! I'm very happy for you." You sputter out. The last thing you'd want him to think is that you don't want him to be happy or satisfied or successful.

"But you're still avoiding me." He repeats slowly. "You know, I didn't tell you about it because no one was supposed to know. I had to sign for it and everything. It's nothing personal."

The painful grip that his potential distrust in you had on your heart releases at the sound of his words. You could have known that it was due to something like that, you work in HR after all. That fact alone makes you realize how invested you unknowingly had become in Harry.

"I...I figured." You give him a weak smile. Harry's eyes search for yours, holding onto your gaze once he has found it. You stay like that, staring at each other for a while until you break the silence.

"I'm heading home. I don't think I'll see you again, so good luck. I'm sure you'll do wonderfully."

With much difficulty, you manage to look away from Harry and walk past him. At least, you try to, because halfway through, Harry's hand grabs your arm. You stop in your tracks, looking back at the man who stopped you. The man who has been sending you mixed signals for the past few months.

"D– do you want to join me in my office?"

You refrain from the shiver that threatens to run down your entire body, and nod. Harry's hand slides down your arm to your hand, and he intertwines his fingers with yours before he leads you to the glass doors that belong to him. On your way there, he flicks off the lights, leaving the two of you in the dark.

The city lights light up the otherwise pitch dark office that belongs to Harry, for now. He will be moved to the CEO's office when he starts his new position.

You don't say anything as Harry closes the door, or as he walks to the closet and pulls out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. You wait in anticipation of what he's going to do.

But then he sits down. He just sits down on his chair.

You stand there, staring at him, utterly confused about this man and his intentions with you, while he obliviously pours the whiskey into the glasses. In that moment, there is a switch inside of you, one that says: fuck it. This is your last day, you need a way to release this pent up tension, and you probably won't see him ever again after this. What have you got to lose? Nothing.

You walk over to the desk and sit down on it, extremely close to Harry. The split of your dress shows your bare, freshly shaved leg, and he seems to notice. His eyes pull to your legs like magnets, and he has to force himself to look you in the eyes as he hands you the glass of whiskey.

You try your best not to smirk at the effectiveness of your plan, focusing on your next move instead. Straight for the kill.

"So, why am I here, Harry?" You ask nonchalantly, taking a sip of your whiskey. It tastes quite strong, and it takes you a lot of effort not to have an expressive reaction to it.

"What?" He asks, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

"Why'd you take me here?" You ask again, setting down your glass at the table before moving to stand in front of him. "To admire the view?"

Harry looks out the window, but his head shoots back to you when he notices you're sinking onto your knees in front of him. He thinks he may have forgotten to breathe as he observes the lustful look in your eyes. His eyes travel down to your tits, even more visible from this angle.

"Because I've admired it every day for the past three months." You continue. Harry swallows, frozen by the overload of his brain and the sensitivity of the growing constraint in these pants. "Why don't you take your pants off for me? Just enough to give me your cock. I like you in this suit."

Harry doesn't let another second fly by before he is unbuckling his pants, sliding it down just enough for you to have access to his cock and his balls. Your mouth waters at the size and girth of it, your cunt getting wetter with every passing moment.

You shimmy forward, leaning over his cock and grabbing it with your hand. Harry sighs at the minimal contact, making you feel even more powerful. Looking up at him through your lashes, you ask him one more question.

"You'll hold my hair, won't you?"

With that, you take Harry in your mouth as far as you can, before pulling away from him. A gasp leaves his mouth, and his eyes fall shut as you pump him with your hand while your mouth kisses and sucks on the head of his cock. You begin licking and kissing down his cock, while your hand softly feels up his balls.

Harry feels like he is in heaven already, and he forgets everything around him. It is only when you completely remove yourself from him that he opens his eyes again, and he sees. Catching on quickly, he leans forward and gathers your hair, twisting it around his palm.

Satisfied with Harry's obedience, your mouth attaches itself to his cock again. You take him slowly, teasingly, and move your head up and down. With every movement, you take him an inch deeper.

"Oh, f–fuck!" He groans out when you gag on him because you took yourself too far too fast. You steady your breathing, which is a bit more complicated as you can only breathe out your nose. You resume sucking him off for a bit longer, bobbing your head down a bit faster. The small sounds that leaves Harry's lips, along with his scrunched up face, gives you enough indication that he is approaching his climax.

So you remove your mouth from his cock.

He lets out a whine at the loss of contact. If your panties weren't wet before, they certainly are now. You smile at the state of him; desperate and needy for you. The fact that you've managed to make him fall apart like this makes you incredibly horny.

"I want to take all of you in my mouth, daddy." You tell him, looking up at him with your big eyes. "You'll have to help me."

You went out on a bit of a limb when you decided to call him daddy, but he doesn't seem to mind at all. In fact, Harry's eyes light up and his jaw slacks at the mention of the pet name.

"Shit– anything, sweetheart. Whatever you need." He croaks out.

"I need you to fuck my mouth." You respond sternly, not wasting any time and taking him between your lips again. You push yourself down his cock as far as you can, breathing deeply before moving your hand to Harry's hand, which is holding onto your hair, and pushing your head forward to indicate that he needs to push his cock down your throat.

Again, it doesn't take him long to listen, because Harry's hips thrust forward, his dick gliding into your throat. You moan at the force with which he pushed, and keep your mouth wide open as you let Harry navigate your head.

Once he fully understands that you are allowing him to let him use your mouth, the true fun begins. With the firm grip he has on your head, he pushes you up and down at an ungodly speed. Your jaw is already tiring from its locked position, but you power through it because the sounds that leave Harry's mouth make up for it.

"Fuck baby, such a good mouth. Never had anything like this... Jesus!" He pants out as he begins to thrust up into your mouth, and you feel like you might pass out. Suddenly, he pulls you away from his dick.

You frown, and realize as he is grabbing for a tissue that he is avoiding messing up your face. You don't stand for it, though, and wrap your lips around his cock again just in time for him to come inside your mouth. You take him deeper and feel the way his sperm shoots in the back of your throat.

"Fuck! Shit, shit..." The not so wide arrange of curse words are the only thing Harry is capable of saying as he dumps his load inside your mouth. The fact that you were so adamant about having his sperm in your mouth made his orgasm even more intense.

Your mouth lets go of his cock with an exaggerated plop, and you swallow every last bit of him, grinning at his fucked out face.

"That was... amazing." He sighs, his gaze flicking from your mouth to your eyes. You hum in agreement, and get up from the floor as he pulls up his pants. You are about to walk away, when Harry grabs your wrist.

"Where are you going?"

"Home." You answer with a smile, but Harry's grip on you only tightens. He shakes his head, his lips pouting.

"No, you need to stay. Let me make you feel good too." He protests. You squint your eyes at him.

"I don't need to do anything."

Harry's eyes widen. "You're right. But just let me make you feel good before you go, please? It's the least I can do."

Your mouth slowly forms into a grin, glad to have him where you want. Well, almost.

"Beg me."

Harry scoffs. "Are you serious? I don't really do begging."

You shrug, smiling at him. "That's fine. My vibrator can get me off too."

You take a few steps towards the door, while Harry contemplates his decisions. However, those were all clouded by the sole moment to please you the second you mentioned your vibrator. The image of you getting off like that is too much to bear. He needs to do it for you.

"Stop." He says. You turn around, and walk back to him as he gets out of his chair and gets on his knees. Grabbing your waist, he pulls you closer, his nose digging into your dress. His hands run up and down your legs, and it is making you weak in your knees.

"Please, let me eat you out baby. I'll do anything to make you feel good. I need to taste you so bad, please let me pleasure you."

You swallow, eyelids ready heavy, as you sigh out. "Alright."

Harry grins at your admittance of defeat, and stands up. He leads you to sit on his desk, your dress hiked up. He removes the stuff behind you, so that you can lean back entirely in case you want to, and waltzes over to his chair.

Spreading your legs, he rolls himself closer to you, and assesses your soaking wet panties. Chuckling, he leans to the side and grabs a pair of scissors, before he cuts the skimpy material from your body. You'd say something of it, but the sight of him admiring your pussy like this is too fascinating to interrupt. So, you keep quiet.

When Harry's thumb suddenly presses on your clit and begins to rub it, you can't help but gasp. His touch feels too good, and that blowjob got you really worked up.

"You have no idea how many times I've fantasized about this." Harry says, marveling at how reactive you are being.

"Me too."

His eyebrows rise up. "Yeah? Tell me more, baby."

You bite your lip, too obsessed with the pet name he's given you. It sounds so sexy coming from his mouth. He awaits your response with bright eyes, lazily rubbing your clit.

"Your arms... I'd think about them so much. And your hands, I'd imagine you choking me with them. They're so big..." You begin, and you know that you could go on for hours if you had to tell him about everything you've thought about doing with him, or doing to him.

Harry doesn't say anything, instead responds with two fingers entering your pussy. You moan at the feeling of his large fingers pumping in and out of you. It feels way fuller than your hand already. His two fingers is the equivalent of your three fingers.

"We can definitely make those fantasies come true..." Harry says softly. "But first, let's make you come, hmm?"

You nod, your head falling back and allowing yourself to fully indulge in the pleasure Harry's giving you right now. You let yourself lay on his desk, wrapping your legs around his shoulders.

"Fuck, that feels good– oh fuck!" You shriek out when Harry tongue begins attacking your tongue after he adds a third finger. He speeds up the movements of his hand to match those of his tongue, and holds onto that tempo until your mind can't conjure up any more words to speak to him.

With the control entirely out of your hands, you let Harry guide you to your orgasm, which washes over your body like a tidal wave. You unconsciously push Harry's head further into your pussy with your legs. With an arched back, you moan at the sensitivity of your clit.

Harry lets you take a minute to catch your breath before he pulls on your arms to have you sit up straight. He is smiling sweetly at you, and your heart warms at it.

"You okay?" He asks, kissing your hands. You nod, trying to ignore the flutters in your heart at the way he is being so gentle.

"Thank you for letting me make you feel good, baby." He says, getting up and leaning into your face. His nose brushes against your cheek as he plants his lips on yours. Your arms wrap around Harry's neck as you kiss him deeper, too caught up in how good he feels and how much you want him.

You're never this greedy. You've never felt like you needed a man's cock inside of you. Like it was the only feasible option. You feel it driving you crazy, and you're sure it is the only reason you say— no, ask:

"Please, fuck me."

The grin that forms on Harry's lips makes you feel like you should regret what you said. A grin like that usually belongs on your face in situations like these. But you need him so bad, you don't really care that you are the desperate one this time.

"Oh, you're begging now too, huh?" He says cockily. You glare at him, pissed that he's acknowledging your neediness and mocking you for it too.

"It's alright baby, I'll give it to you. 'M cock's already hard again from watching you come like that. So fucking sexy..." He says. He pulls his pants down and lifts you off the table, turning you around to the glass windows and pushing your hands against them. "Bend over a bit and speak your legs for me, baby."

You do as he says, biting your lip at Harry's hand that pushes away your dress and roams over your ass. He positions his cock at your entrance and pushes himself into you, sighing in pure relief. You shut your eyes tightly at the size of him filling you up.

"Fuck, you feel good baby." He says, slowly beginning to move in and out a bit. You let out a soft 'yes', causing Harry's jaw to clench. He spanks your ass, watching as it bounces from the impact, and his cock twitching at your yelp.

"Perfect fucking ass... perfect fucking girl, aren't you?" He groans, now lazily thrusting into you. He wants to give you time to adjust, but he learns your wishes when you begin to push yourself back into him.

"Ah, I see. Greedy girl wants to speed things up, hmm? Your wish is my command." He mocks, but does speed up his pace. His hands hold your waist as he begins to pound himself into you, your ass shaking at the impact. He spanks your ass again for good measure, obsessed with the way it moves.

You nearly lose yourself in how good it feels, but you know that he can get deeper than this.

"I want to ride you... want to feel you in my tummy." You spit out, hoping he understands what you're saying in your croaky voice.

Harry listens, pulling himself out of you immediately and taking a seat in the chair. You turn around and walk over to him, throwing your legs on both sides of his lap, before grabbing his cock and sinking yourself down on it.

It goes smoother this time, but Harry's really deep now, just like you wanted. The sensation is everything to you, and it isn’t hard to tell how good it feels for him too. Glad to have a bit of the control back, you start to bounce on his cock.

Harry’s eyes travel over your body, fascinated by the way you are moving above him. His hands travel to the straps of your dress and push them down until he can get your tits out of the top part of your dress. He begins to massage them as you keep impaling yourself on his dick over and over again.

"Fuck, daddy, you feel so good... so good for me. Listening to me. Knew this was the best way to fuck you... you love it." You slur happily. Harry nods profusely at your words, jaw clenched and moaning out in pleasure.

"Yes, needed it so bad baby. You're fucking daddy so good..."

You smile at how caught up Harry looks in his pleasure, like he doesn't know what to do with it. You, however, do know what to with it. You grab one of his hands and wrap it around your throat, before you do the same to him. With his hand on your neck and yours on his, you begin to fuck him as fast as you can.

"Ah, fffuck... shit! Holy shit!" He yells out, and automatically thrusts himself up into you, reaching an even further level of deepness you had never thought possible. That along with your hands on each other’s necks, is enough to know that your climaxes are near.

"Come inside me daddy." You pant out, and he does. It is as if your permission set him off. You smile in delight at the feel and knowledge of his cum being so deep inside of you.

You fuck Harry through his orgasm, and even after. He squirms in his seat. "Wait— too sensitive."

"I don't care, I haven't come yet. Don't you want to make me feel good? Have me coming around your thick cock?" You say sensually, and Harry nods. "Words."

"Yes– fuck! I want you to come, please come around my cock. Please, please..." He begins to beg, a tear rolling down his cheek.

Your toes curl at his whiny voice, and soon your juices are gushing all over his cock. Your pussy contracting around him seems to set Harry off even more, as you feel even more sperm spraying out of his dick and into your walls.

You ride out your high until you can't move anymore. You sit there, forehead pressed against Harry's as you both come down from what just happened.

After a minute or two, you decide to pull out. Slowly but surely, you manage to get Harry's dick out of you without hissing too much at the sensitivity of every single body part down there.

You lean against the desk, too wobbly to stand on your own, and you let Harry wipe you clean with the tissues on his desk. After cleaning himself up, he stands up and positions himself in front of you.

"Hey." He says. Your hand cups his jaw and your thumb wipes away the tear that is far down his face now.

"Hi." You tilt your head. The both of you burst out laughing, still surprised by what went down just now.

"That was really good." He says once the laughter has died down. You nod in agreement.

"Good enough for a repeat?"

Harry pretends to think it over, before he responds: "under one condition."

"And what would that be?" You quirk up an eyebrow, intrigued by his vagueness. He smiles at you so wide that you wonder if his mouth might be hurting.

"You let me take you out on a date first."

You roll your eyes, pretending not to be amused as he chuckles at your reaction. But the second you see the look on his face and the sincerity behind it, you realize that he is being quite serious about this request. You bite your lip, wanting to kiss him right then and there.

When Mr. Styles moved next door, it felt like every single one of your fantasies had come alive. He was tall, older, devilishly handsome, and rich. You weren't sure what he did for work exactly, all you knew was that it made him work until 8pm most nights and afforded him an $80,000 car.

You weren't the most materialistic person, but god the way he oozed wealth made you drip in your panties. His entire wardrobe consisted of Gucci and St. Laurent, and he had no problem showing off every expensive item he owned.

He had exceptional style; one you were severely jealous of. Every day he left his house in a jaw-dropping outfit that you frothed over. They were all tailored to perfection and showcased the perfect body you knew he had underneath.

He became the eye candy of your neighbourhood very quickly, and he had no problem accepting all the baked goods and warm welcomes all the single and married women of the street delivered. He was as flirty and charming as he was private and reserved.

When he wanted to, he could charm the underwear off someone, and you knew for a fact that he had. Your room was adjacent to his, and even though there was a distance between your houses, you could hear the sounds of pleasure coming from his room when his guest was exceptionally loud.

The walk of shame was your favourite though. At least once a week someone would be sneaking out early in the morning. You liked your early morning walks, especially since the sun rose so early now that it was Summer, so you always saw the red-faced woman leaving his house while you were getting ready.

He never walked them out, which you noticed straight away, although he did leave not long after for his own morning walk. You’d always bump into each other as your route seemed to be opposites and took you past each other’s houses, and he’d bid you a good morning with that classic smirk of his.

He could be private when he wanted to though, and in the three years he had lived next door to you he had only attended one neighbourhood event and that was only because it was a going-away BBQ for when you left for university. You were quite close to your neighbours, so at the end of each Summer they’d host a BBQ for when your new school year would start, and you’d be off for months.

Your parents were the type to become friends with everyone in the neighbourhood, and Harry Styles was no exception. They welcomed him on his first night in his house and your mum baked him a cake for the occasion.

A strong friendship didn't form exactly, since he didn’t really like being too close to his neighbours, but they were friendly enough for your parents to volunteer you to be his dog walker/sitter while you were back home for your Summer break. His dog Archie was way too active to be satisfied with the daily walk Harry provided and way too people loving to go all day without seeing another person.

Harry had managed so far with doggie day care’s and hiring professional dog walkers but when your parents suggested that you could take over while you were home, he jumped on the opportunity. Harry liked that Archie was able to be in his own space during the day, and he trusted that you'd look after him much better than some stranger.

You usually applied for Summer jobs and had one lined up ready for when you got home, so you weren't lying around doing nothing for weeks. This year you were too caught up in exams to organise something.

Taking care of an adorable puppy for an insanely hot rich guy who usually tipped you on top of what he was putting into your account weekly was the perfect gig. It was right next door, and Harry gave you free rein to take Archie anywhere. You the option of either hanging out with him at his house or bringing him to yours, but you usually went to Harry’s to get out of the house.

As long as he was fed and walked once a day, Harry was a lot more relaxed about the job than you thought he'd be. He had a lot of trust in you, and slowly but surely, you'd say you even became friends with him.

You usually hung out with Archie for the second half of the day. On the days you had plans you’d do something in the morning then walk him in the afternoon before spending the rest of the day with him. Harry had a pool so more often than not you used that daily to get some laps in and cool down.

Your routine would change depending on your plans, but you always made sure you were around for Harry to come home. Archie hated the dark, and while the sun was setting later since it was Summer, Harry still arrived home once it had set most nights. It was easy to fit in your day, especially since you were getting paid for it.

Most nights you'd have some quick small talk, check him out and fantasise about him when he wasn’t looking at you directly and you'd be on your way home. But some days he’d stop you during your morning walk and invite you to join him for dinner. He’d bring home takeaway and always shouted your meal which was a bonus.

It happened once a week, always on a different night. But it didn't matter what night it occurred, or if you had plans, because the second you were invited you were changing your entire life to make sure you could stay back and eat with him.

That man made you so ravenous you had never experienced hunger like you did over his cock. He hadn't fucked you, nor insinuated that he wanted to fuck you but that didn't stop you from thinking about it.

You thought about every position, every activity, every room, and flat surface in his house he could fuck you on. Hell, by now you had done so much snooping you knew his wardrobe like the back of your hand and had pictured every article of clothing on him and how he'd look in each one while he was hovered over you.

Your favourite fantasy was him wearing his classic black St. Laurent suit. He'd come home and bend you over the nearest surface, the arm of his couch, or the dining table and absolutely wreck your pussy. He'd be so riled up he wouldn't even remove the suit, simply undo his pants, and fuck all his anger out on you.

He'd have you crying and begging to come, his hand wrapped tightly around your neck while the other covered your mouth so your cries wouldn't alert the neighbours. He'd whisper the filthiest words in your mouth and fuck you so hard your legs shook with every-

Archie's loud barking interrupted your daydreaming, and he suddenly jumped off the couch where you two were relaxing and ran to the front door. You heard the beep of Harry's car locking a second later, prompting you to get up and open the door before he had to unlock it himself.

"Is your daddy home Archie? Is that your daddy?" you cooed to Archie as you opened the front door to find Harry standing there with his briefcase in one hand and a plastic bag of Chinese takeaway in the other. "Hey Harry, here, let me" you greeted, grabbing the bag from him as he walked in.

"Thanks, love" he winked, making you blush and avoid eye contact with him. "Hi Archie, how's my strong boy? You have a good day with y/n? I heard you swam in the pool" Harry cooed, putting his briefcase down without care and bending at the waist so he could give Archie belly scratches and kisses all over his head and snout.

Harry didn't care one bit that Archie was jumping all over him and possibly ruining his St. Laurent suit, the very same suit you were just fantasising about. Your mouth ran dry at the realisation, your face growing hotter at how inappropriate your thoughts had been.

You clutched onto the takeaway bag anxiously, praying he wouldn't see how flushed you were.

"How was he today y/n, was he a good boy? I hope the bath wasn't too much of a hass-" his words stopped when his attention switched from his baby to you, his eyebrows furrowing at the sight of your red cheeks. "Are you alright, love? You look a bit flushed?" he stood up, his head cocking as he returned to his towering height over you.

You only blushed more at the attention and looked at the ceiling momentarily to try and calm down. His height was another thing you loved. He towered over you and made you feel so small you wanted to fall to your knees in front of him.

"I'm fine! Just... hungry!" you replied quickly, holding up the food to emphasise your lie.

He didn't seem to believe your lie but nodded slowly anyway before grabbing his briefcase off the floor. A small smirk played on his lips, but you were too mortified at how horny you were to even notice.

"Mhmm... I'm just going to have a quick shower, do you need to freshen up or anything?" he asked with a raised brow, trying to ignore the sight of your bare legs clenched together so tight he wanted to pry them open.

You had sent photos of Archie in the pool today, and it was clear that you had joined him. That wasn't anything new, and Harry always had spare towels in the pool house and welcomed you to freshen up there after you swam.

What was new though, was that you were clearly still in your bikini. The loose button-up shirt you wore was long enough to cover your bum but see-through, so your bright pink bikini showed through.

Harry was having a hard time hiding how fucking attracted he was to you, especially with how exposed your legs were and how he could basically see your bare skin through the white material of your shirt. His mind spiralled with the knowledge that you swam in his pool in the first place... your pretty, young body swimming around with barely anything on.

Having you in front of him though, all flushed over something that definitely wasn't hunger and with your bikini-clad body so accessible was a new level of arousal for Harry.

His attraction to you was selfishly the key reason he wanted to give you this job. He knew you'd take care of Archie and his well-being was Harry's main priority in his life. He had no wife or kids, and no partner to keep him company, so Archie was his family.

More importantly, though, you were something pretty to look at every day and something to fuel his arousal when he tugged on his cock each night or fucked some desperate housewife. Call it an unhealthy obsession, or pure lust over someone too young for him. Either way, Harry needed to see you daily to be satisfied.

He could never find anyone that turned him on like you did. Your pretty eyes, your soft hair, those legs of yours that Harry wanted to wrap around his head. You were the personification of lust, even if you never tried to seduce him or even flirt with him.

He knew you were attracted to him, your cute blush across your cheeks and the way he always caught you looking at him when he left for work were key signs of it. Every morning on your daily walk he'd catch you with your head turned back looking at him after he passed you, and you always blushed after being caught.

That blush of yours killed him.

You'd always find some excuse to see him on the weekends too, whether it be because you forgot something or just missed Archie. He didn't care, and he always welcomed you in and offered you a drink while you checked him out.

You thought you were being inconspicuous, but you were always looking at him, watching him like you wanted to devour him and Harry noticed every time. He was so close to just coming home one day and bringing you to his bedroom before you could even ask him how his day was, he could practically taste your pussy.

"Oh, no, I didn't actually swim today! This was more for tanning and a strategic outfit for Archie's bath" you laughed, your words coming out fast as you looked down at your feet. The thought that Harry actually noticed what you were wearing made your body heat up more, butterflies fluttering in your stomach like crazy.

You caught him looking at you before. He was anything but subtle when he checked someone out, and every morning on your walk he'd scan you head to toe before greeting you. It was exhilarating to have him notice you like that, and equally as nerve-wracking.

Harry took a step towards you and tilted your head up by your chin, so you were forced to look at him. His touch was so light and gentle you easily could've pushed against it, but he had never touched you before, and certainly not to force your eyes on him so you didn’t dare push him away.

"And did you get a nice tan?" his voice was low and almost teasing. You had never heard him sound like that before, especially around you.

"Uhm, y-yes... a little" you whispered, your brain all foggy from his touch on your chin.

You could barely process his words, let alone reply coherently. If it weren't for the Chinese takeaway bags keeping your bodies separate, Harry would've been brushing right up against you. His one finger was already making you shudder with need, if any more of him touched you every cell in your body would've been on fire.

"Good, that's what I like to hear" He grinned, his thumb brushing against your lower lip ever so gently.

Your breath hitched at the movement, and you resisted the urge to bring his thumb into your mouth. He had never been so forward with you like this before.

"Can you set the table? There's a bottle of white in the fridge so help yourself" his touch didn't disappear from your face, and you were so nervous all you could do was nod. "Good girl. You're always so helpful, y'know that?"

"Um, thank you" you managed to get out, your knees buckling at how he called you a 'good girl'. He was a flirty man, but he was laying it thick tonight and you couldn't help but get excited about the idea of actually fucking him.

"You're cute" he chuckled, tapping your mouth with his thumb before pulling away completely. "I won't be too long" he walked away without a second glance like he hadn't just called you a good girl and traced your lips with his finger.

"What the fuck was that, Archie?" you asked him. Archie barked at you with his tail still wagging before he trotted off to follow Harry upstairs.

You tried to ignore the throbbing between your legs as you set the table. Heading for the wine first, you found it easily and poured yourself a glass before you did anything else. You drank the glass quickly to try and get some liquid courage into you, anything to help you act some type of normal after Harry nearly made you cream yourself.

Harry had bought some rice and meet dishes, so you left those in their containers and grabbed some serving spoons before pouring another glass of wine for yourself and one for Harry, so the missing glass you had already wouldn’t be so noticeable from the bottle. He said you could help yourself, but you knew he didn’t mean down a glass in 10 seconds to get over your own horniness and nerves.

You weren’t a child anymore, and yet it felt like you had never talked to a man before in your life. You had a good relationship with Harry and had never been uncomfortable or awkward around him. But when he flirted with you like this, called you a good girl and had his gorgeous… long… thick fingers near your mouth, you couldn’t even string a sentence together.

“I see you found the wine” Harry announced his presence and made you jump slightly from your position at the table.

You had nearly finished your second glass (you couldn’t help yourself, really) and were texting a guy from one of your classes who wanted to see how your break had been so far. It was a friendly conversation, and one you were only having to pass the time while you waited for Harry to finish showering.

“Yeah, it’s good” you looked up from your phone and resisted the urge to drop your jaw.

Harry was freshly showered with his hair still damp and falling down his eyes in such a boyish way he almost looked your age. He had on a pair of black shorts, hung low on his hips, and decided to forgo a shirt.

You tried not to stare, you really did. But you found yourself scanning him from head to toe, your eyes lingering longer on his toned abs and his cock that was so prominent you wanted to lick it through his shorts.

“Very… very good” you trailed off before taking a sip of your wine and looking away, your face heating up at the smirk on his face. Wine made you tipsy fast, and you were already feeling the effects and speaking your thoughts out loud.

“I bought it in Italy” he slid into the chair next to you, completely ignoring the plate and cutlery you set up in the spot opposite you. “I found it in a small deli in Tivoli, the owner, Giovani, gave me a sample and I was hooked…” he grabbed those items and put them in front of him as he spoke, arranging the knife and fork onto the napkin like you had previously done. “I ordered a whole barrel and got it shipped back to London. Giovani was so happy he invited me to have a meal with his family. That was the best pesto pasta I have ever had in my life”

You were mesmerised as he spoke, sipping on your wine and eyeing his lips and the way he formed his words. He was just so… pretty, and he had such a way with words you felt drawn in the more he spoke.

“Have you ever been to Italy?” he asked, “want a bit of everything?” he continued, pausing with a spoon of rice over your plate.

“Yes please” you replied, taking another sip before responding. “I’ve never really been out of the country before. I’d love to see Italy though, everything about it just seems so… beautiful”

“Your parents never take you on family holidays?” he asked with a raised brow, plating some more food for you before he moved onto his own.

“Rarely, they didn’t really have money for holidays when I was growing up. Now they do and I’m an adult… well, I don’t really have the money to join them on their trips” you shrugged, tracing your finger around the rim of your glass.

He let out a little hum of acknowledgement, “Well, if you ever get the opportunity, I know you’d love it. The food is amazing, and a pretty thing like you would fit in perfectly with the beautiful scenery” he took a spoonful of food, his compliment coming out smooth and hitting you right in your stomach.

“Maybe once I finish my degree” you blushed, taking your own spoonful, and looking down at your lap. You hated how shy he made you. It was beyond irritating how you couldn’t even look him in the eye while he complimented you, or even looked at you in a certain way.

Conversation flowed for a while about his travels. You liked hearing him talk so you kept asking him questions about Italy and other places he had been to. It was going great, and you really enjoyed talking to him… well mostly listening anyway.

Every time he asked you a question, though, you’d clam up while he looked at you. When he spoke, he was so animated, a true storyteller, but when he was listening his entire focus was on you and it freaked you out. He’d keep his eyes on you the entire time, and he had this look on his face that made you drip between your thighs.

His finger kept tracing the rim of that damn wine glass of his and it was making you think ungodly thoughts. You couldn’t contain your blush and you kept fumbling with your words because of the attention he was giving you.

You were talking about something Archie did today, a safety topic instead of talking about yourself when your phone buzzed and interrupted your sentence. You quickly looked at it to see who it was from and saw that it was the same guy from your class. You decided to ignore it and continue talking until he texted you again. You turned your phone upside down this time so you wouldn’t have to look at it again and looked back to find Harry looking right at you with a furrowed expression, instead of his classic flirty smile.

“Everything okay?”

“Oh yeah, just some guy in my class texting me” you shrugged, looking down at your empty plate.

“Is this ‘guy’ your boyfriend?” he couldn’t help himself. He leaned back on his chair and looked at you expectantly, waiting for your answer.

“No, definitely not. I don’t have a boyfriend”

“Good girl. You’re too good for some college fuck boy, anyway. I’ve had my time in college and trust me, they’re all dickheads. Can barely find the clit, half of them” he scoffed, taking a large swig of wine like the thought of you being with anyone else pissed him off.

Again, with the ‘good girl’. It made you want to drop to your knees and service him right under the table. The fact that he even said the word clit around you made you go absolutely feral, clenching your thighs to try and relieve some of the growing pressure between your legs.

You didn’t know whether it was the wine, or the fact that you had been so unbearably horny since before Harry got home, but you had this newfound confidence to say what you wanted. “Who should I go for then? Someone like you?”

It was definitely the wine.

The second the words left your mouth Harry’s head snapped to you and his pupils dilated just looking at you. It was like you throwing a somewhat flirty reply back to him provided some type of ammunition.

“Yes. Someone like me…” he trailed off, his eyes flicking between yours and your lips.

You bit down on your bottom lip subconsciously and avoided his gaze like you had been doing the entire night. Instead of letting it happen though, Harry gripped your chin and turned your face to force your gaze on him.

"What's the matter, love? You get nervous when I look at you like this?" he smirked, tracing his thumb along your bottom lip to pull it out from your teeth.

You let out a shuddered breath and leaned in closer to his touch, your eyes fluttering shut momentarily. “Yes. I’ve had too much wine and you make me nervous anyway, but now I’m like extra nervous” your words came out rushed and a little sloppy. You weren’t drunk, but you were definitely feeling the effects.

“hmm” he chuckled, cupping your jaw instead of your chin and moving your face around so he could get a good look at you “you’re so cute you know that, so… innocent… and yet I can’t stop thinking about bending you over this table and taking that innocence away from you”

You let out a little whimper, gripping onto the chair below you as you practically salivated at his words. Your eyes widened and now you definitely thought you were going to get fucked.

“We both know that’s a lie though, isn’t it. That you’re innocent?” He gripped your jaw harder this time and leaned in close while he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear with his other hand “you may think that I don’t know what goes through that pretty little head of yours, but I do. You want me to fuck you until you can’t walk anymore, isn’t that right, sweetheart?” He murmured.

Your mouth grew dry and you nodded, making a wide smirk grow on his face. “Ah”, he tutted “too bad you’ve had too much to drink” he sighed out in disappointment and let go of your face, leaning back into his chair with a triumphant smirk on his face.

“I-I haven’t” you sputtered out, way too eagerly. “I’m okay, promise”

It was annoying how fast wine hit you. If he gave you vodka you could’ve had five shots and been fine. Wine was never your choice of drink when you went out, so it went straight to your head.

If the wine you used to get over your nerves cockblocked you, you were never touching a drop of it again in your life. Especially since this cock belonged to a drop dead gorgeous, rich man who you knew would be the best dick you ever had.

He raised a brow and crossed his arms over his chest, poking his tongue into his cheek and looking you up and down in your chair. “How about we have some dessert then? And you stop drinking this” he moved your wine glass away from you, “then we’ll see how we go?”

“Okay”

The two of you cleaned up the table and dishes together while Harry jumped into another story, pretending like he hadn’t just talked about fucking you silly. It was a welcome distraction and gave you something to think about other than what just happened, but you could barely concentrate on what he was saying.

You were still unbearably wet between your thighs, and it was killing you. You knew if you put your fingers there, they’d be dripping. Fuck, at this point Harry could slip his cock right in you without any prep and it wouldn’t even hurt.

You would’ve loved the burn, anyway. Honesty, you hadn’t been fucked for a while and you craved the feeling of a big dick stretching you and making you ache, Harry’s big dick specifically.

“What are you thinking about, y/n?” Harry asked, scratching Archie’s ear and looking at you from his spot on the couch. He was sitting with his back against the arm rest, Archie laying between his legs with his chin on his thigh. You were sitting the same opposite him, your legs crossed in front of you.

“Nothing” you shrugged, biting down on your lip.

You couldn’t help but feel impatient now. He had been dragging it out since dinner, telling you all these stories, making you ice cream and moving it to the couch where Archie was laying between you two and being the ultimate cock block. You had sobered up already and if he didn’t fuck you soon you were going to leave and text your old hook-up or take care of things yourself.

“Liar” he smirked, “c’mon, tell me the truth. Close your eyes if it makes it easier. I know how nervous you get when I look at you. Your cheeks are already turning red” he cocked his head, almost daring you to finally speak your mind.

You tried to disprove his comment by controlling the heat in your face at the way he was looking at you, but he told the truth, and you couldn’t help but blush. Your next words didn’t help the situation either.

“I’m thinking that this is a waste of time and I’m better off finding someone else to fuck me if you won’t. I’m sober, so are you. So are you going to fuck me or not?” You didn’t sound the least bit confident in how you spoke, but Harry’s brows still rose quickly in surprise.

“Go to bed Archie” he told him, not taking his eyes off you as he played with his lips with his ringed fingers. Archie followed the command immediately, grabbing his toy in his mouth and trotting off to his dog bed upstairs. “They were some big words for someone so shy…” he commented, looking you up and down while tapping his fingers along the back of the couch. He let out a small hum like he was debating his words before he spoke again, “You know what... you want me to fuck you? Prove it”

You weren’t going to miss this opportunity when you were so goddamn horny you could cry. So you nodded and got off the couch, moving so you were standing right in front of him. Harry shifted so he was sitting facing you, his legs widened so you could step between them.

Harry sat there relaxed and with no readable expression on his face, his arms wide on the back of the couch. You knew he had been staring at your body all day, and you were still wearing your bikini under the sheer material of your shirt. You began to unbutton the shirt slowly to expose more and more of your skin.

His gaze darkened onto your body, and you could feel goosebumps rise all over your skin. You maintained eye contact with him as you finally let the shirt drop from your shoulders, leaving you standing there in a bikini that barely covered anything. It was one you basically only used for tanning, stringy and minimal for the smallest tan lines possible.

You didn’t wear it for Harry, but you were glad you chose it for today. The way he looked at you sent heat all over your body, and you loved it.

Harry’s hips shifted a little, drawing your eye to where his cock was slowly but surely hardening in his shorts. You couldn’t help but bite your lip when you noticed it, so you decided to take it a step further and undo the knot at your neck, causing your top to fall and expose your breasts. You undid the tie at your back next, so the top fell completely at your feet.

“Fuck…” he cursed, playing with his bottom lip as he stared right at your tits.

Harry was in two minds about what to do with you next. Part of him wanted to get you on your knees before him, and the other wanted to have you bouncing on his cock as soon as humanly possible. The way you were just standing there, so nervous looking with your pretty tits out before him was driving him crazy.

Before he could say or do anything else, you placed a hand on each of his thighs and used them for balance to get on your knees between his legs. His eyes widened for just a second, long enough to tell you that he wasn’t expecting you to do that. You couldn’t help but smile a little at his reaction, shifting on your knees to get comfortable.

“You wanna suck my cock?” He cooed, tucking a piece of hair behind your head before caressing the side of your face and tipping your chin up.

You nodded, bringing your hands to the waistband of his shorts. “Yes”

“Go on then sweetheart, show me what that mouth of yours can do” he smirked, slipping his thumb into your mouth before dragging your lip down. You bit down on it gently and nearly moaned when he brought the same thumb to his mouth to suck it clean.

He lifted his hips slightly so you could pull his shorts down, and oh god that would’ve had to be the prettiest cock you had ever seen. You pulled his shorts off completely with his help and chucked them behind you so you could focus on his cock.

It was so long and thick, a pretty pink tip just like his lips and resting up against his happy trail. It was practically staring at you and you were so excited to get a taste of it on your tongue. You looked up at Harry who smirked down at you and tilted his head towards you in a nod, telling you to get started.

You collected saliva in your mouth and spat on your hand for some lube before wrapping it around the base of his cock. Harry let out a shuddered breath at the feeling of your hand wrapped around him, squeezing hard enough for it to feel good but not hard enough for it to hurt.

You moved your hand up and down towards the base and used your mouth to pleasure his tip. You started with a small lick over his slit, humming at the salty taste of pre-come that had already started to collect. He let out the smallest moan, showing that he liked when you focused there. So you did it again and again, flicking your tongue over his slit while your hand squeezed and tugged at the base of his cock.

“Jesus fucking Christ sweetheart, you’re doing so well” he praised, caressing your hair before sliding his fingers into it and gripping gently. “Bring it into your mouth…” you did as instructed, sliding the tip of his cock into your mouth. “That’s it, fuck, that’s it…”

His head tilted back against the couch as he gently guided your mouth up and down his cock. He wasn’t rough, and didn’t force you to lower than you wanted to, but it kept you at the pace he wanted. You were still using your hand at his base, but decided to move it down to his balls so you could take him deeper into your mouth.

“Oh fuckk, I’m gonna come if you keep doing that” he groaned, his thighs tensing on either side of your shoulders at how heavenly it felt to have you fondle his balls.

This only encouraged you to keep going, digging your fingers into his thigh while you bopped over his cock and played with his balls in your other hand. His moaning was increasing, as was the tightness of his grip in your hair.

“I want you to come on my face, please” you panted, pulling off his cock only long enough to speak before you brought him back to your mouth.

It was like there was a switch in you. Before this you were so shy and cute, blushing at everything he said. But now? Here you were begging him to come on your face, and all it took was Harry's cock. Harry was addicted to this switch, and he wanted to make it permanent so you weren't so damn shy around him.

“Yeah? Is that so I can last all night and fuck you silly? Is that why you want me to come?” He teased, moving you faster over his cock.

You nodded the best you could and fondled his balls a little faster in your hand, bringing him further into your mouth and trying to relax your throat so you wouldn’t gag. The last thing you needed was throwing up all over his dick, especially when you had been craving it for years at this point.

“Yes, yes I want you to fuck me all night…” your voice was broken and rough from his cock. You started fisting his shaft in your hand and kitten-licking his tip again. You wanted his come and you would’ve drowned in it if you could.

“Want you to fuck me every way, in every room” you panted, sloppily licking at his balls before following the vein on the underside of him to his tip with your tongue. You did this over and over again, alternating between licking at his balls to sucking and flicking at his tip, all while your hand was pumping up and down over him.

Harry made you nervous, that was a given. But seeing him so fucked out because of what you were doing made you confident to say and do what you wanted. You were confident in your skills anyway, but Harry has always been an unattainable fantasy so making him feel good was the ultimate ego boost.

He was a mess above you. The second you started talking he could already feel himself getting closer and closer to his orgasm. He tried to watch you, because he had imagined the sight of you on your knees before him dozens of times and wanted to take in every detail for the next time he jerked off to you. But fucking hell with the way you were slobbering all over him and licking at his length so expertly he could barely keep his eyes open.

He didn’t expect it from you if he was being honest, but it was the best fucking surprise of his life. He loved a hot mouth and he could sit there and get a blowjob for hours if he could last. Yours would’ve had to be the best head he had received in a while, and the fact that it belonged to you was the cherry on top.

He didn’t know if he could keep this a one-night stand after this. He only ever did one-night stands and his plans for you were no different. But you were so fucking sexy and so eager to please, and you lived right next door and came to see him daily. The opportunity was always there, and he just couldn’t see himself not taking advantage of it in the future.

“Don’t stop y/n, I’m close” he groaned, tilting his head down to look at you as he moaned with an open mouth. His hair had stuck to his forehead where sweat had started to collect and his chest grew red at the beginning of his orgasm.

“Come for me, Harry. Give it to me” you encouraged, tapping his tip against your tongue as you pumped his length in one hand and played with his balls in the other.

“Fuckk, you’re so hot sweetheart, fucking love this, love your tongue” he moaned, his hand tightening in your hair as his abs started to tense up. “I’m gonna come... Take it. Fucking take it”

He let out a large moan and forced himself to look at you as he came. His come flew out in spurts, landing on your tongue and cheeks as you kept tapping his cock against your tongue. You hummed appreciatively against him and kept your mouth open to collect as much of his come as you could, not swallowing until he told you to.

God, he looked incredible as he came, his mouth dropped open and his eyes lidded and nearly closed in ecstasy. You wanted to see him come over and over again, and you would’ve done anything to make that happen.

“That’s a good girl, keep your mouth open and don’t swallow yet… fuck…” he panted as his cock started to soften in your hand. He caressed your face and collected the come that landed on your cheeks and forehead on two fingers before smearing it over your lips. He rubbed it along your tongue, where his come was still sitting next, painting your entire tongue with it. “Swallow, fucking swallow it all”

You did it immediately, opening your tongue to show him that it was all gone. He smiled down at you and cupped your face, pushing your mouth closed. “Good girl, god you’re so fucking perfect” his eyes drifted down to your tits for a moment, then lower to where your thighs were tensed closed.

He needed time before he could get hard again to fuck you and spending that time with his face buried in your cunt sounded like the perfect plan. “Stand up sweetheart” he instructed, giving you his hands so you could use them as leverage to stand up.

Your knees were shaky and your legs sore, but you didn’t care one bit. Sucking him off made you so horny and your clit felt like it could explode if he didn’t touch you.

“Take these off for me, need to see your pretty pussy” he cooed, gently grabbing your hips and looking from your bikini bottoms to your eyes.

You released a shaky breath and nodded before tucking your thumbs into the sides of your bikini and pushing it down, so it fell at your feet. You felt extremely vulnerable with how focused he was on scanning you head to toe, but you kept your eyes on his and didn’t look away this time. You just had his cock in your mouth and made him come; if anything you wanted him to see you… all of you.

Harry’s mouth grew dry at the sight of you in front of him, all trimmed and fucking soaked. He could see how wet your folds were in the dim lighting, so shiny and soft. He suddenly wished he didn’t let you finish him off.

His cock was sore just looking at you and he knew that he’d have to get himself hard again as soon as possible. At the same time though, he was glad that his cock was soft because he craved your taste and wanted to have you ride his face until he was covered in your arousal.

He stood quickly and slid a hand into your hair at the back of your head, pulling your face towards his and kissing you passionately before you could even process what was happening. With a firm grip on your hip, he pulled you flush against him, angling your face in the way he wanted so he could kiss you.

He could taste his own come on your tongue, yet that didn’t deter him and if anything, it only made your attraction to him grow. Most of the men you had hooked up with absolutely refused to kiss you after you gave them head but always encouraged you to kiss them after they ate you out (on the rare occasion they did).

The kiss was absolutely dizzying, and you kissed back eagerly, wounding your fingers through his hair so he wouldn’t pull away. You had dreamt about his lips for the longest time, and they definitely lived up to your expectations. They were soft and plump, and he kissed so well you couldn’t help but moan into his mouth.

This only seemed to encourage him, causing him to smirk against your mouth and nibble on your bottom lip. In the shortest time, your lips were already becoming sore, but you loved it and only craved more of him. Harry let out a little groan when you decided to bite back, and you took advantage of the opportunity and slipped your tongue into his mouth.

Harry loved when you took control, even though you seemed to relinquish it soon after, he loved that you told him what you wanted. He fisted at your hair tighter, causing you to whimper in pain and scratch at his scalp a little as he gladly slid his tongue against yours. His hand moved from your hip to your ass, grabbing onto it firmly and kneading it in his hand. He suddenly drew his hand back and slapped your ass hard, making you jolt against him and whine into his mouth.

The pain only made you wetter, and between his warm chest pressed against yours and his hand in your hair, you were ready to jump on his cock. Before you could even plead for more, Harry pulled away and tucked his hands under your ass, forcing you to jump and wrap your legs around his waist so he could carry you.

You held tight while he walked you through his house. You kissed from his jaw and down along the column of his neck, a low hum of appreciation escaping his lips. When you met the bottom of his neck you decided to bite down in the junction where his neck met his shoulder, sucking right after to try and create a mark.

“You’re so going to regret that, sweetheart” he chuckled, slapping your ass hard as he continued walking. You smiled and licked the spot you bit, trailing your tongue up to his ear where you tugged on it. He spanked you again and groaned in your ear, loving how playful you were being.

When you made it to his bedroom, he closed the door to keep Archie out then laid you on the bed and unwrapped your legs from his waist, kneeling between them. He grabbed onto your wrists and pinned them above your head, smirking down at you. “Keep these here, understand?”

“Yes,” you nodded, keeping them above your head after he let them go.

He started doing the exact same thing you were doing to him; he held onto your jaw and angled your face up so he could kiss along it before moving down the column of your neck. This time though, he took a lot longer going down there, stopping to nip and bite at so many spots until you were squirming underneath him.

He hovered over you, now using both arms to keep himself balanced as he smirked up at you. He continued moving down along your collarbones, nipping right on top of your left one when he felt you shudder at his kiss there.

It was like he was trying to find every sensitive spot on your body, kissing and licking around until you twitched or sighed or did anything that indicated that he reached somewhere sensitive. As soon as he knew it, he’d attack it and create one pretty bruised mark after the other.

It was both heaven and pure torture. His lips felt amazing going over your body but his knees were keeping your legs wide so you couldn’t squeeze them together to relieve the tension. You needed him to touch you, bad, and when he got to your nipples this only got worst.

“These are the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen in my life” he complimented, squeezing one in his hand before leaning down to tug on it gently between his teeth. You whimpered and scrunched your hands into fists to try and keep them there, fighting the urge to tug on his hair.

“Gorgeous, just so fucking gorgeous you are. And all mine, hmm?” He switched to your other breast, flicking his tongue against your nipple before bringing it into his mouth and sucking on it. He released it with a pop before speaking again, “this all mine?” He cooed, maintaining eye contact with you as he leant down to bite it again, dragging it back in his teeth.

“Yes, oh god, yes… all yours” you moaned, your thighs attempting to close around Harry’s legs.

“I know… ohh baby, I know. Would let me do anything wouldn’t you?” He teased, kissing lower down and dragging his tongue along the centre of your stomach. He placed his hands on your inner thighs to pin them open as he slid down onto his stomach so he could kiss below your belly button. “Now tell me, what do you want sweet girl? I can tell you want something” he pressed a kiss to your mound this time. He was so close to your pussy that you could scream.

“Please Harry, need your… need your mouth”

“Yeah? You need my mouth all over your pretty little cunt” he cocked his head, his thumbs rubbing along the crease of your legs, right near your pussy.

You nodded eagerly, “yes, please”

“It’s so pretty you know that? Got the prettiest pussy…” he blew right over your clit before leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to your mound again. “Not that surprising though, is it? You’re such a pretty girl, gorgeous really. No wonder you’ve got such a pretty pussy”

Your body heated up at his compliment, your face becoming all red in the cheeks. You pressed your cheek into the bed, so you didn’t look at him, not wanting him to see just how nervous he made you even though you just had his cock in your mouth.

He turned his head to kiss your thigh instead, and while you hoped he’d pick up the pace and kiss down quickly before eating you out, he did the opposite and repeated the same process as your neck. He licked and sucked his way from your mid-thigh down to your inner thigh, completely ignoring your growing pleas for him to touch you properly.

You kept your hands above your head, despite the need for you to use them to guide Harry’s mouth to your cunt. Something told you that he wouldn’t like that though, and at this point, you were so desperate for an orgasm you didn’t want to do anything to jeopardise it.

When his mouth met where his hand was, he switched sides and repeated the process. He kept his eyes on you the entire time, watching as your squirmed and panted above him. Your eyes were closed most of the time, but every now and then you’d open them and plead again for him to just touch you.

Right after you pleaded with him and your eyes fluttered closed again, he struck. Instead of going down to meet his hand, he dove straight in and licked one stripe from your entrance to your clit. Your eyes flew open, and you gasped at the sudden touch, moaning incredibly loud when he did it again and pressed his tongue to your clit.

“Fucking hell baby, you taste so good I could eat you every day for the rest of my fucking life” he groaned, lapping at your clit and causing the prettiest whines of pleasure to drop from your mouth. You really did taste incredible, and you were so wet you were soaking his tongue in your flavour.

Harry loved it and craved your orgasm on his tongue. He used his fingers to spread you open to him making it easier for him to collect your arousal from your entrance. He flicked his tongue against there before pressing it as deep as it could go inside you, moaning obscenely at your flavour and trying to get as much as he could. You were writing underneath him, loving the way his tongue felt inside you.

“Please Harry” you whimpered, bringing your arms down to cover your face as you tried to grind up to meet his mouth.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I got you” he cooed, pressing an open-mouthed kiss at your clit. He repeated this a few more times, applying light suction each time he did it. “Put your arms back up, need to see your pretty face”

You shakily pushed your arms back up over your head, keeping your eyes closed as your back arched at how amazing it felt to have his mouth around your clit. He sucked harder, flicking his tongue over you between each suck.

He was building up the pressure, doing light licks and suckles before pressing harder and doing firmer actions. He was absolutely obsessed with the way your face was scrunched up; your mouth wide open as your whimpered so prettily.

“God you’re so pretty, look so fucking gorgeous like this” he hummed, circling your entrance with his forefinger before slipping it in gently.

He curled his finger into you, finding that spongey spot inside of you after a few thrusts, changing the position of his fingertips until he found it. When he did, oh he knew it right away because you let out the filthiest whine he had ever heard.

“Oh god, yes! Right there, Harry… please don’t stop” you panted, fisting your hands as your back arched off the back again.

Harry groaned against you and lapped faster at your clit, slipping a second finger into you, and thrusting them as fast as he could right against your g-spot. The way your breasts looked from this angle, all red and splotchy and already bruising was driving him crazy. Those marks would last for days, and he knew he’d be getting you naked very soon to see how they were healing.

He kept eating you out like you were his last meal, moaning and groaning into you with pleasure. The room was filled with your combined noises of pleasure, and obscene wet sounds, both from your own wetness and his mouth.

With each curl of his fingers more and more arousal oozed out of you, coating his fingers with cream that dripped to cover his palm. He loved being covered in it, and at this point, his chin and nose were drenched also which only turned him on more.

Your scent, your flavour, everything was addictive. His cock was already plumping up against the bed and he knew by the time you came he’d be ready to fuck you to oblivion. He was utterly looking forward to it too, you were so warm around his fingers, and he knew it would feel heavenly wrapped around his cock.

“H-Harry I’m gonna come” you warned, your orgasm approaching rapidly.

It was a slow burn at first, a build-up like you thought you were going to come but weren’t completely sure. Then it became so much more intense, rushing and firing up inside you with so much certainty that you were going to come that there was no way you could hold it even if he asked you to.

“Go on sweetheart. Just look at me, open your eyes and look at me as you come” he encouraged, “that’s it, good girl” he praised once your eyes opened to look at him.

His tongue returned to your clit which had you panting above him, your thighs beginning to shake around his head as your orgasm waved over you. You cried out his name, your body tensing and vibrating all at the same time as waves of pleasure flooded your body. He carried you through with his fingers and tongue, slowing down to soft touches so it didn’t overwhelm you just yet.

You tried to keep your eyes open to look at him, and you were glad you did because the same eye contact that had you flustered all night made your orgasm so much more intense. It felt like you were connecting to Harry on a deeper level just by looking at him in such a vulnerable state, but you didn’t want to get ahead of yourself and misread this entire situation. It was a hook-up you had dreamt of for years, and you hoped that at the end of it you’d still keep your job. It didn’t have to go past that, but part of you hoped it would.

“That’s it, baby, look so fucking gorgeous when you come” he sighed, licking his fingers that were inside of you clean before pressing kisses to your thighs as your body relaxed into the bed.

He kissed up your body, gentle open-mouth kisses over the bruises he had made until he hovered over you. His hips dropped so his hard cock was pressed right over your soaked pussy. The feeling made you whimper and wrap your legs around his waist as he joined his lips to yours, his cock sliding between your folds and pressing against your sensitive clit. He groaned into your mouth and ran his tongue across the seam of your lips, slipping his tongue in when you parted them to give him access.

“Taste’s so good” you moaned against his mouth.

“I know, oh god I know” he groaned, kissing you almost desperately and sliding his tongue against yours again.

Your arousal was all over his tongue, and the taste made you moan. Both your releases were still lingering on each other’s tongues and the mixture made both of you kiss each other harder. Your tongues pressed harder together, and you tugged at his hair as you bucked your hips to try and grind against him.

“Fuck me, godd Harry I need your cock so bad… I’m on birth control and I’m clean so please” you gasped out, squeezing your legs around him tighter to try and emphasise your point.

He wanted to fuck you raw, holy fuck did he want to fuck you raw, especially with his cock already nestled between your dripping folds. But he never took the chance and risked a pregnancy, nor did he believe every girl that told him they were on birth control.

He had money, so he knew someone would be crazy enough to try and baby-trap him. He didn’t not believe you, nor did he think you’d risk getting pregnant when you were so dedicated to your studies and career but putting on a condom was safer for him.

“I’d love to fuck you raw sweetheart, and fuck maybe someday I will. But for tonight I’m gonna use a condom, alright?” He caressed your face and kissed you again before reaching over to his bedside table where the box of condoms was.

“Mhmm, okay, just hurry up” you replied, propping your upper body up on your elbows.

You didn’t care too much about using a condom or not, but it did surprise you that he didn’t jump on the opportunity of coming inside you. If you had offered someone your age the same thing, they’d be in you so fast so they could fuck you raw.

Harry had already proved that he was different from younger guys; receiving mind-blowing head was something you hadn’t had in a long time. Maybe he had a reason, and maybe you’d press him for the answer after you were finished.

What had your head reeling more than anything else though, was the fact that he said that ‘someday’ he might fuck you raw, implying that this could happen again. And god you wanted it to happen again, more than anything.

You dropped your legs from his waist as he returned to you, dropping back to sit on his haunches as he opened the condom wrapped and chucked it behind him.

“Impatient, are we?” He smirked, sliding the condom on his cock that was soaked in your arousal already.

“Yes” you replied, biting on your lip as you looked up at him. He placed his hands on either side of your head and leaned down to kiss you, forcing you to lay flat on your back.

“Gonna make you feel so full sweetheart” he murmured against your mouth, reaching between your bodies to grab onto his cock and guide his tip to your entrance.

“Mmh, please” you moaned, wounding your fingers through his hair and taking a firm grip in anticipation.

Harry pulled his face from yours so he could look down at you, wanting to see your face when he entered you for the first time. He had already stretched you out before with his fingers, and with your pussy still dripping wet he slid in easily. He did it slowly, making sure you felt every single inch of him go into you.

Your mouth opened on a choked moan and your fingers dug into his scalp as your back arched against him. “Oh fuck” you cried, your eyes closing. You kissed him blindly, catching his bottom lip between yours and biting down as he kept pushing in until he couldn’t anymore.

Harry replied with a similarly eager ‘fuck’, drawing it out while he let you adjust to his size. He was a lot thicker than two fingers, but with the way you were clutching onto him and panting into his mouth he could tell you liked it.

He hadn’t entered you all the way just yet, but fucking hell the feeling was indescribable. With a few more thrusts he’d be balls deep in you, having your wet velvety walls covering every inch of his cock.

“Okay?” He asked, checking in with you before he made any movements.

“Yes, god yes, fuck me. Please just fuck me, hard” you begged, hooking your leg around his hips to try and push him deeper into you.

“I fucking love your filthy mouth” he groaned, kissing you roughly as he slowly began snapping his hips up to meet yours.

You wrapped your arms around his chest and let your head tilt back as you moaned through an open mouth, unable to close it even if you tried. He didn’t seem to like this though, because his hands were soon threading into your hair on either side of your head and pulling your face down so he could reach your mouth with his own.

“You feel so good baby, so hot and tight. Can’t get over this” he praised, kissing you lazily and letting his mouth brush against yours as he panted into it.

Harry kept rocking into you, grinding his hips while his cock slipped deeper and deeper until he was balls-deep in you, his cock filling you to the absolute brim. You had never felt anything like it. Being so full and so stretched was making you go absolutely crazy.

You couldn't even speak, only moan and whine underneath him as he fucked into you over and over again. You clung onto him with your arms, pressing your chest up into him as your fingers dug into his back. With every thrust your body slid with his, moving up and down the bed with the force.

Every grind forced your clit to rub against his lower stomach, delicious pleasure making your insides twist up already in preparation for another orgasm. It happened a lot quicker than you expected. Although with the way Harry was fucking you dizzy he could've been going for five minutes or an hour and you wouldn't have been able to tell the difference.

Harry's head tilted back when you clenched around him involuntarily, groaning out such a deep sound, your eyes opened to look at him. He looked so fucking delicious, a thin layer of sweat covering his face and chest and his cross necklace swaying over your face in such a seductive way you could've cried.

"Are you close again, love? Can feel you squeezing me so tight" he looked down at you, his irises dilating when he saw that you were already looking at him, your eyes nearly slits with how hooded they were.

"Y-yes. I'm, I'm gonna come" you stuttered, practically clawing at his back as your body tensed up underneath him.

"Go on baby, come for me... give Daddy another orgasm" his voice dropped an octave, his head tipping to say the words right into your ear.

It was like that one word triggered your orgasm, sending you way off the edge and into waves and waves of more pleasure. Harry kept fucking into you at his same brutal pace, each thrust against your g-spot causing another wave of pleasure to flood through you.

When Harry felt your body relax again, he took no time in slipping out of you and flipping you to your stomach. Your face dug into the bed as you tried to regain your energy, not finding it in you to even turn your head so you could breathe properly. Harry gripped your hips and pulled them back so you were resting on your knees with your chest flat on the bed.

He slid into your entrance again, a long whine of relief leaving your mouth at the feeling of him inside you again. He grabbed your hair and wrapped it around his fist, pulling back until it stung so your head was far off the mattress and your sounds of pleasure weren't blocked anymore.

"Gonna fuck you so hard, sweetheart... gonna have you shaking and crying underneath me by the end of the night. I can promise you that" he whispered into your ear before snapping his hips in quickly to prove his point.

You couldn't even reply when he started thrusting into you in hard quick snaps, with a lot better control than his previous position. You thought he was going hard before, but fuck the control and balance he had from behind made his force so much greater.

Your body jolted with every thrust and you could barely register your surroundings anymore from the way he was pounding into you. Your legs kept slipping wide and wider along the bed, making your body fall lower against the mattress. You made no effort to rectify the position, feeling too overwhelmed with pleasure to even care about what your body was doing.

This forced harry to let go of your hair and pull your hips up himself so your ass was high in the air again, returning the leverage Harry needed to fuck you the way he wanted. He loved doggy, and in most of his hook-ups, he'd have his partner on her stomach with her ass in the air the moment they were ready for penetration.

But you... he missed looking at your face. Your pretty little face with your cute scrunched expression and your open mouth as you let out the filthiest little whimpers. He wanted to fuck you hard, but he wanted to do it with your face in his view and your moans clear and loud for him, not muffled in the bed like they were now.

So he slipped out of you again and turned you back on your back, pulling your legs over his shoulders and reaching between them to grab at your throat. "Open your eyes pretty girl, let Daddy see them"

Your entire body rose with goosebumps the second 'daddy' left his mouth, your pussy clenching around his cock almost immediately after he slid into you again. Without even realising it, you covered his hand with your own and pressed it harder against your neck to force him to squeeze harder. You loved being choked, and you had fantasized about Harry doing it to you for years.

Harry didn't want to overuse the term or do anything too rough to you in case that's not what you wanted, but the way your body reacted to it told him everything he needed to know. You loved it, and it pushed him further to his own orgasm just knowing that.

"You like that, huh? Like when I choke you, hmm?" he grinned, squeezing harder around your neck as he slowly started thrusting into you again. The look on your face was exactly what he had been missing; dazed fuck me eyes and such a fucked out grin on your face like this was your favourite thing in the entire world.

"Yes, Daddy. Love it... love it s'much" you mumbled out, squeezing his wrist while your other hand fisted the bedding beside you.

Your pussy was practically gushing over his cock, coating his cock in so much cream and arousal, it was like you were never going to stop being wet. Mix that with the way 'daddy' sounded coming out of your mouth and Harry could feel his cock already twitch inside you and his core tighten.

But there was no way he was going to come before you did for the third time, and there was still so much more he wanted to do to you before he finished. Ideally, you'd even be able to finish together, but he knew that rarely happened. The thought of it though... fuck it was heavenly. Having your cunt squeeze and pulse around him while he came would've been the greatest finish possible.

Using his hand around your neck as the leverage he needed, he used his other to find your clit and rub on it as fast as he could while still keeping a steady pace with his cock. Having that added stimulation made your whimpers turn even more high-pitched, your back arching as tears leaked from your eyes.

Being fucked so hard and rough was already having you seeing stars, but adding Harry's fingers to the mix and you were struggling not to get overwhelmed. It practically blinded every other sense until all you could feel and focus on was the pleasure points of your body all mixing and being stimulated at once.

"That's it, baby, moan my name for me. Tell me who's fucking you so good right now" Harry coaxed, his eyes flicking between your face and your tits. They were bouncing with every thrust and he had the urge to stuff them in his mouth.

"Daddy... ohmygod daddy" you cried, "I'm, I think I'm close again!"

Your pussy was swollen and ultra-sensitive from your previous two orgasms, and Harry's hand restricting your breathing and making your head all woozy enhanced every sensation. You came again with a cry of his name, feeling your body jolt violently underneath Harry as waves and waves of intense, hot pleasure went through you.

It was like everything turned into white noise as you came for the third time. You knew Harry said something but you just couldn't hear it properly, nor did you care when your orgasm seemed to be going on forever. Harry's thrust's had slowed significantly, and he used his fingers on your clit to carry through your high, prolonging it with variances of softer and harder rubs.

By the time you had come down from your high, Harry had stilled completely inside of you. He was still hard as a rock and had moved your legs off his shoulders so he could hover over you with his hands on either side of your face.

Although you were utterly exhausted from coming so much, you still wanted him to fuck you over his couch, and his dining table, and his kitchen. God, you wanted to christen every room in the house and you weren't leaving until that happened.

"Why'd you stop, huh?" you asked softly, pushing his sweaty hair back from his face.

"I lost you there for a second, love. Thought you might need a break or some water before we do anything else" he replied with a soft smile, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

You shook your head. "No, I'm okay... But I do have a request" you played with the hair at the nape of his neck as you spoke.

"Oh really? And what's that?" he raised a brow, a bit in disbelief at how confident you seemed around him now that you two had fucked.

"I want you to fuck me in every room in this house. We're two down, only like six to go... But if you need a break I totally get it" you shrugged, challenging him while biting down on your lip as you looked at him.

"If I need a break?" he chuckled, gripping your jaw roughly and squeezing your cheeks. Leaning in closer, he nudged his nose against yours, "You won't be able to walk once I'm done with you, sweetheart. So if you need a break, let me know"

He wasn’t exaggerating about not being able to walk, because by the time he had lifted you back upstairs and tucked you into bed after eating you out one more time and bending you over most of the flat surfaces in the house, you couldn’t even feel your legs.

Honestly, you were surprised Harry lasted so long but fuck his stamina was otherworldly. He was able to fuck, and fuck hard for very long durations at a time until he had to readjusted or slow down for a couple minutes to catch his breath.

You could tell he worked out, and beyond his daily walk because he was so fit you were barely able to keep up with him. By the end of it you felt like a limp doll, orgasm after orgasm making your body cry out and convulse underneath him until you were reduced to a sobbing mess, incoherent and sore.

“Think you’re gonna make your morning walk tomorrow?” Harry asked, running his finger up and down your upper arm.

“If I haven’t floated away into nothing” you mumbled back, digging your head into his chest.

He chuckled and tilted your head up by your chin to capture your lips. You were already feeling and acting so much more comfortable around him and he loved it. “How about we forgo the walk and do breakfast instead before I have to leave for work? Means you can sleep in a little more”

“That sounds perfect” you sighed.

Harry Styles never, never neglected his morning walk, nor did he have hookups stay for breakfast. You knew this and so did he. But instead of commenting on the possibility of what this meant for your relationship, you let yourself drift to sleep.

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In the middle of his worrying, his phone chimed with a notification. He glanced at the small screen, and his face broke into a smile when he saw that it was a text message from you. 

Before leaving for Harry Styles’ Live on Tour, you were promised that hair and makeup would be provided for you. However, on the first night, you quickly realized that while someone would be doing your makeup, hair would be up to you.

The stylist the tour management hired took one look at your hair and immediately clammed up. She didn’t have to tell you she didn’t know how to work with hair like yours for you to know, you could see it on her face.

So you got ready on your own. You didn’t want to complain to anyone because this was your first big tour, and you just figured this was a harsh reality of being on the road.

You could do your own hair, of course you could, but it was time consuming, and it took away from time you could be prepping to go onstage. Instead of getting hyped up with your band, you were geling your hair back and laying down your edges.

It made you a little irritable, but that all melted away when you finally got onstage. Harry’s fans were incredible, despite them not being here for you. They danced, and even sang along to some of your songs once you’d been on tour long enough. If you ignored the issues backstage, everything was practically perfect.

Even Harry was perfect when you didn't think about how he'd kind of screwed you over. He was friendly, kind to everyone backstage and on it. His smile was wide and dimpled, revealing the cutest pair of front teeth. You didn't even think teeth could be cute, but they were.

You might've had a teeny tiny crush on him, but it was manageable, especially when you had to do your own hair before a show. It wasn't that you thought that Harry was responsible, but he kind of was, and you didn't know what to make trouble. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and you didn't want to ruin it by complaining, even if you might've been right. So you kept your head down, you hung out with your band, hung out with Harry's band, and made the most of your situation.

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It was about a month into your when Harry stopped by your dressing room before you went to rehearsal. You’d met him, obviously. He was incredibly sweet, and he always complimented you on your performance when you stepped offstage. If you were in a normal work setting, you would call him a colleague or acquaintance. You weren’t close, but you didn’t have anything bad to say about him, either.

“Hey, how are you?” you asked. You’d been trying your shoe when he came in. Straightening up on your couch, you beckoned him further inside, ignoring the small flip in your stomach.

“Uh, good thanks,” Harry said, but he didn’t look it. You learned rather quickly that when he wasn’t performing, he was rather shy, but this was different. He wouldn’t meet your eyes and sat down as far away from you on the couch as possible.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, um, it’s just that I was talking to Jeff, and he brought something up that he wanted to address with you, but I told him I would do it because it’s my tour and everything, but I don’t want anything to be awkward—”

“Just spit it out, Harry, I promise I won’t be mad, whatever it is,” you said, though his hesitation made you worry.

“You’ve, um, you’ve been a little—a little late? Nothing super extreme or anything, but it has been, um, noticeable,” he said, his shoulders tense the whole time.

Blushing, you picked at a loose thread in your jeans. You knew you’d been late to your performances, but there wasn’t a lot you could do about it. You could do your own hair, but it took a lot longer than it would if you had help.

Was that something you complained to Harry about, though? He’d come to deliver the message, but you didn’t know how much say he had in things like hiring the hairstylists for his tour. What if raising concerns got you in trouble?

“Sorry, I’ll, um, I’ll try to be more...prompt.”

A half smile curved up the side of Harry’s mouth, just enough to show his dimple. “Great! Um, thank you. I was so worried you would take it the wrong way, and you know, it isn’t a huge deal, but you know.”

He left you to your own devices after that, but you weren’t really sure what to do. Leaning back against the couch, you considered your options. Hiring your own hairstylist, but that was extra money you didn’t really have. You went to a friend who gave you a discount back home, and now that you were on the road, you were using your money for clothes to wear onstage and meals when you didn’t eat with craft services. Going on tour with a household name like Harry Styles didn’t mean you were instantly rich, it meant you were on your way to something better.

Reaching for your phone, you called your mom. “I need to ask you a huge favor.”

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Things seemed to improve for a while. With your mom joining you on tour and helping you with your hair, you were able to finish getting ready a lot quicker, making you not only on time for your performance, but sometimes even a little early.

Your mom couldn’t stay for the whole your, you knew that, but it was nice to have her around, a comforting face among all the chaos. She filled you in on everything going on back home while she did your hair, bringing you a little bit of home to you on the road. You didn't realize how much you missed her and your hometown until she was there.

Of course, all good things must come to an end, but she spent the whole day treating your hair so it would be nice and conditioned for the next couple weeks. That was an easy enough job for you too, but you liked having your hair done. Who didn't?

Your mom was standing with you backstage before you were about to go on. She was going to see one last show before getting on her flight to go home. While you rested your head on her shoulder, you heard Harry call your name. Smiling a little, you waved as he came over, embracing him when he held his arms out.

"Harry, this is my mom. Mom, this is Harry," you said.

Harry was all smiles as he shook your mom's hand, but your mother remained stoic. He didn't seem to notice, keeping his smile and saying, "It's so nice to meet you. Your daughter is incredibly talented. We're happy to have her here."

You knew Harry asked you to go on tour with him for a reason, but it was nice to hear him say he thought you were talented. With everything going on backstage, it was hard to feel appreciated by Harry and his team. Getting a little recognition lifted your spirits.

However, your mother still remained emotionless. "Really? It doesn't seem like it."

"Mom!" you hissed. She was just as frustrated about the hair situation as you were, perhaps even more, but you did not need her complaining to Harry about it. Looking at Harry, you said, "I'm so sorry, please don't listen to her, she—"

"No, Y/n, he needs to know what kind of ship he's running," your mom said. Then she turned her attention back to Harry, who looked confused and slightly scared that he was currently being scolded by a woman he just met. "Do you know the difference between a black person's hair and a white person's hair?"

"Um, yes ma'am—"

"Well the hairstylist you hired does not. My daughter has had to do her own hair since the beginning of this tour, and no one seems to care! I understand that she's the opening act and might not be as much of a priority as you, but she was promised hair and makeup stylists, and you have failed to fulfill that promise. My daughter matters, and for you to not even take two seconds to think about the people you hire says a lot about who you are—"

"Mom, that's enough, please," you said, holding onto her arm. She'd said the things you'd been thinking for weeks, but you still had to see these people, and almost everyone backstage paused to hear your mother lecture Harry Styles.

"Why? To spare his feelings? You shouldn't have to make him feel less awkward at the expense of your own comfort, Y/n."

She was right, but you were supposed to go out onstage, and you were tense from this confrontation. You couldn't even look at Harry, not wanting to know his reaction to your mother. What if he was mad? What if he fired you? What if this was the end of your career before it even really started? A crush? Forget it, he would never feel that way about you now.

"Y/n, it's time to go."

It was the first thing anyone said since your mom's outburst. You looked over to where a man with a headset was waiting to give you your guitar. Not knowing what to do, you took the guitar and squeezed your mom's hand, not even looking at Harry before stepping onstage.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

You were half asleep in your hotel room, dozing on the couch as a movie played in the background when you heard knocking. Nearly falling off the couch, you stood up, stumbling in a sleepy haze towards the door. Not looking through the peep hole, you opened it, only to close it immediately when you saw who was on the other side.

And then you realized that you slammed the door in your boss' face. You knew you should've probably opened it, but you were too embarrassed now.

"I'm going to try not to be offended by that," Harry said, his voice muffled by the closed door. "I...You must think I'm angry with you, but I'm not, I promise. I just want to talk."

It was an off day on tour today. You were in a city you'd never been to before, but instead of exploring, you were hiding from everyone in your hotel room. You hadn't said a word to anyone since your mother tore into Harry last night. You left immediately after your show, went straight to your tour bus and shut the curtain on your bunk, then holed up in your hotel room the minute you arrived at your hotel, and hadn't left since.

You weren't ready to talk to Harry yet, not in the slightest. He might've said he wasn't mad, but that didn't make you any less embarrassed. You were happy your mom spoke up for you the way that she did, because you had no intentions to speak up for yourself, but now you had to deal with the aftermath.

Still, you couldn't avoid Harry forever. Taking a deep breath, you opened the door.

He looked like any guy in his mid-twenties—black tour sweatshirt and Adidas sweats. His hair was slightly damp, which made it curlier than normal. With his bright green eyes and flushed cheeks, he looked cute, cute enough to make your heart flutter. But that wasn't important right now.

"Hi. Sorry about the...door," you said, hiding behind the door in question.

Harry's smile was easy, proving that he wasn't in fact mad at you. Hopefully. You were still worried he was putting up a front. You didn't think he was, but you figured it was a good idea to err on the side of caution.

"It's okay," he said, crossing his hands behind his back. "Can—Can I come in?"

"Oh, um, sure."

You stepped to the side to let him in. Harry took his time looking around your hotel room, but you didn't think it was much different than his. Unless it was, which was an entirely different issue in itself.

"Are you—Do you not have the same hotel room?"

"Huh?"

You blushed, gripping the ends of your sweatshirt. "You're looking around. I—I was just wondering if—if your room is dif—different than mine."

Harry laughed a little, shaking his head as he went back over to you. "No, no. I actually don't typically use a hotel room. I usually just sleep on the bus. Makes things easier when I don't have to constantly move everything between a new room and a bus."

"Oh." Now you felt stupid. "Can I get you anything—"

"I wanted to apologize—Oh, um, sorry."

"Apologize?" you asked. "I'm sorry, Harry. My mom shouldn't have yelled at you like that. I know it's not technically your fault that—"

"Maybe, but she was right. It—It's my tour, and I should know more about who I'm hiring. It wasn't fair to you that you didn't have the help we promised you, and it wasn't fair that you had to come up with your own solution. So, on behalf of everyone here on Live on Tour, I'm sorry."

You were speechless. A hundred outcomes from last night went through your head, and an apology was at the very bottom of your list. Perhaps it was harsh of you to think so little of Harry, but...these things typically never ended positively. So you were speechless. All you could do was stare at Harry, wondering how to use your words so the two of you wouldn't just be staring at each other.

"Tha—Thank you," you finally managed to say. "I really appreciate that."

"I feel bad. More than bad actually. It shouldn't have taken your mum doing your hair for your shows for me, or anyone else, really, to realize. And what's worse is that you didn't feel comfortable enough to talk to anyone about it. But—But that's on me, that's not on you. Of course it's not. This was my mistake, and I'll—I'll be better next time. My whole team. In fact, I already told my assistant to start looking for a new hairstylist so that you won't have to do your own hair the rest of the tour. And you—you can approve of them if you'd like. I just want you to be completely comfortable here because I really do believe in making everyone on tour feel like family—"

"Harry, it's okay, really," you said, resting a hand on his arm. He'd been working himself up so much that he was breathing hard and was red in the face. It was sweet that he felt so deeply about the situation, and it honestly eased something inside you. You were so worried things would go wrong that you started to believe they would. "Thank you for apologizing, and for doing everything you can to make me feel...welcome, I guess, which, I hope you know I already did. It was just that one thing, and it looks like you've gone above and beyond to rectify it."

He nodded, but he was still frowning. "I know, but I shouldn't have had to rectify it in the first place, and I feel bad because I shouldn't be making you make me feel better about this, so I'll, um, I'll just go."

Harry made his way towards your door. And while he was right, you couldn't just let him leave all mopey like an abandoned puppy.

"Play a game with me," you said, surprising yourself. Harry paused, turning around to look at you curiously. Clarifying, you said, "I...like to bring video games with me on the road. Play a game with me? We'll be square after that. I'll even buy you room service if you win."

Slowly, Harry made his way back over to you. There was a small smile on his face, his eyes lighting up at the prospect of a game. You didn't spend much time with him, but just by that smile alone, it looked like he was the competitive type. He agreed, and you made your way out of the en suite and in. to the separate bedroom where your console was set up. Harry's team might have dropped the ball with your styling team, but they did a great job with accommodations.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"You know, if I hadn't made a major ass of myself just now, I would think you'd asked me on a date," Harry said an hour into playing video games and eating pizza. It was the most relaxed you'd seen him since you met him. Not that you saw much of him, but (understandably) he'd been a little stressed since last night. You offered him one of your edibles to help relax him, but he was one of those my-body-is-a-temple-types while he was on tour. To each their own, you supposed.

"Very funny," you said, though the thought did give you butterflies. You could tell he was joking, or not even serious, because he didn't even look over at you, his eyes not once leaving the TV screen.

"I mean you've already wined and dined me, supplied a fun activity for the both of us to enjoy...I don't know, it sounds like you're trying to woo me."

You scoffed, your thumbs moving around on your controller. "With pizza and Mario Kart?"

"Way to any guys' heart, if you think about it," he said, and just out of the corner of your eye, you saw him shrug.

"But you're not just any guy," you said, not even thinking about it. Your eyes widened, but you ignored the mild flirtation and focused on staying in the lead.

You couldn't see his face, but you could just tell Harry was smiling. After a month of playing video games in your hotel room and eating room service, you felt like you knew everything about him, and every little move he made. And he knew you too. You went from hardly knowing each other to knowing what facial expression he made without even looking at him.

The more you talked to Harry, the more you spent time with him, both in your hotel room and outside it, you...did think he was cute. And kind and funny and talented and...about to kick your ass in Mario Kart.

But you weren't going to let him win just because he was flirting. He was a bunch of wonderful things, but he would also do just about anything to win. He was certainly not above flustering you to win.

"Not just any guy, huh?" he asked, but you ignored him.

You shook your head. "Nope. It's not gonna work, Styles. No amount of flirting or red shells will save you."

"It's like you know what gets my heart racing, Y/n," Harry said, resting his head on your shoulder.

"Maybe," you said. "Or maybe I was just distracting you from...victory!"

Cheering, you leapt off the bed, jumping around to celebrate your win. It was the last game of the night, a tie breaker. You rested your hands on Harry's shoulders while you celebrated. As you jumped and cheered in his face, you lost balance, pushing Harry back onto your bed. You immediately went quiet as your face stilled, inches from his face, your noses practically touching. You looked into his eyes, only to find him looking down at your lips. Both of you were breathing heavily, but neither of you were moving.

His eyes were so green up close, his lashes long and dark. He was mesmerizing. You felt giddy, but paralyzed at the same time, and by the rapid beating of Harry's heart against your chest, you knew he felt similarly.

"Um..."

"Yeah, I'll just—"

"Good idea—"

The two of you couldn't separate faster. You were off Harry in seconds, scuttling to the corner of your hotel room faster than he could straighten up.

Coughing, he pointed towards the door. "I'm just gonna—"

"I'll see you later—"

"Bye."

"Bye."

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

You were avoiding Harry for a different reason entirely now.

Neither of you had spoken since that afternoon in your hotel room, and you'd been in four different cities since then. You'd gone back to seeing each other briefly before shows, Harry poking his head in the door of your dressing room and wishing you good luck, and you would respond the same.

Things were different now. You hadn't been hanging out with him for very long, but you missed him. You liked having him as a friend, and now you were practically strangers.

That didn't stop you from giving each performance like it was your last. It wasn't your tour, but you treated it like it was. Every song you sang you sang with your whole heart, you interacted with fans, you played your guitar to the best of your ability. It was so amazing, it almost made up for your awkward interactions with Harry.

But after the fifth new city and still things never changed, so you decided to change them yourself.

Armed with a box of pizza and a movie, you ventured over to his tour bus. You just wanted whatever awkwardness was between you to dissipate, and if that meant pretending that that afternoon never happened, then you would do that.

As you were about to knock on the bus door, it opened.

It was Harry and a young woman, one you had never seen before. The two of them were laughing like they'd been friends for years. And technically you knew that a hand on a shoulder meant nothing, but when she did it, it very clearly meant something.

When they saw you, their laughter ceased, the young woman's hand covering her laugh. From her angle on the bus, both of them were looking down at you, making you feel small. All you wanted was to try and mend a friendship, but now all you could see was long legs and blonde hair, and you suddenly felt like an idiot. What were you doing here?

"Oh. Hey, Y/n," Harry said. He was blushing, but you weren't sure if it was because you were there or because he'd been with this woman. "Were you coming to—"

"I was actually, um, I meant to go to my tour bus. I was just confused," you said, slowly stepping away from him.

Harry seemed to connect the dots, his eyes flicking between you and his friend. "Y/n, it's not what you think—"

"Think? I don't think anything," you said, stepping further away from him. "I was heading to my bus. Honest mistake."

"Y/n, if you could just wait—"

"I was actually meeting someone, so I should go. I'll see you later tonight, Harry," you said, turning and walking back to what you knew was your tour bus.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Later that night, you were in your room, once again getting ready by yourself. This time you didn't mind it, though. The hairstylist Harry's team hired was great, she was just sick. So sick she couldn't leave her hotel room, so you told her you would manage. And you were. You knew you should've kept it simple, but you could never keep it simple. And now you were racing against the clock to finish doing your little braids topped with beads that framed your face in time for the show.

As you were securing the beads, Harry came in for his routine "good luck." "Hey, I just wanted to wish you—Wait, where's Michelle?"

"Oh, she—"

"No, I insisted on getting you someone—I hired her myself, and she's not here?"

Harry pulled his phone out of his pocket, but you stopped him before he could call Michelle.

"Harry, really, it's fine. She texted me earlier. She has the flus, so I told her not to—Wait, you—you hired her? I thought the tour staff took care of it?"

That was how it was communicated to you, anyway. Since the tour management hired the other hairstylist, you figured it would be the same.

"I...That's what I said," Harry said.

"No, that's not what you said. You said that you hired Michelle? Harry, why—"

"Because I wanted you to have the best, and there wasn't enough money in the tour budget for the best, so I took care of it."

He what? This wasn't what you expected, not at all. That Harry would care enough to not only go out of his way to hire another hairstylist for this tour, but to pay for one he didn't even use. For you. He wasn't even a friend at the time. A colleague, you'd considered him at the time. Harry went out of his way for you back then?

"Harry, you didn't need to do that."

"I know I didn't, but I wanted to. May I?" he asked, inching further into your dressing room, and when you nodded, he came over and sat down in the extra seat beside you. Since you were still pressed for time, you continued to do your hair, letting Harry say whatever he needed to.

"I felt horrible, you know that," he said. Through the mirror, you met his eyes. He looked almost somber, but he continued. "I—I won't lie, I've never been faced with these issues before, and I just wanted to make up for all the missteps I've taken. And when I was told we didn't have enough in our budget, I knew that was bullshit, but it would be harder to find a tour manager than a hairstylist on such shorth notice, so I figured that could wait and I...I just took care of it."

Your fingers stilled halfway through his explanation. Lowering your arms, you decided you could be a little late tonight. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," he said. "It's what you deserved from the beginning, I was just trying to make things right."

"Thank you, um—" Shifting a little so that you were facing him and not his reflection, your heart fluttered as you looked him in the eye. "When you—When you said earlier that...whatever I saw wasn't what I thought, did you mean that?"

Harry nodded fervently. "Yes, I swear she was just a friend, she was actually teasing me because I was about to—"

"Excellent," you said. Then, with a boost of confidence you'd been mustering since you bought a pizza this afternoon, you leaned in and kissed him.

You were terrified that he would push you away, but he didn't. In fact, he pulled you closer, nearly making you fall out of my chair. But Harry was quick to catch you, gingerly placing his hands on his hips and guiding you to his lap. You distantly heard the alarm on your phone going off, but you didn't care, all you could think about was him.

Both of his hands were on either side of your face, his kisses were slow and deliberate, easing the fervor that you started with. It seemed he didn't care about you being late to perform, either.

"God, I—" Harry paused to stop sucking on your bottom lip. "I don't want to sound rude, but from the moment I saw you, I just—"

"Harry, I know you're a gentleman, and that's very very respectable, but when I'm sitting on you like this, please. Be rude. Now shut up and kiss me."

"Yes, ma'am."

That was all either of you said for a while, Harry eager to follow your lead. You didn't do much more than kiss, too afraid that someone would come in and catch you. But you wanted to, you really wanted to, and you could tell Harry did too. He responded to every little touch—groans and shivers and moving your hands to where he wanted them. He was putty in your hands, and you loved it.

"We—We have a show tonight," you breathed when Harry moved on to your neck. "I'm supposed to go on soon."

"Wait for me. Wait for me in your hotel room, so we can—"

"Play more video games?" you joked, hissing when his teeth sucked spot behind your ear.

"I had something else in mind, but if that's what you want then sure." He tried to lift his head up, but you gripped his hair and held him in place. You could feel him smile against your skin, pressing tiny kisses as he slowly made his way back to your lips. "Mm, but I guess you're pleased with my plan."

Before he could kiss you again, the hand in his hair held him steady. "Don't do the thing tonight where you play 'Kiwi' three times, okay? I don't think I can wait that long."

"You got it. Now can I kiss you?"

You were about to tell him yes when there was a knock on the door. "Five minutes, Y/n."

"Okay," you called out, and when you heard the door closed, you turned back to Harry. His lips were swollen and red, his cheeks just as flushed. He was looking over your face, like you were a priceless painting. No one had ever looked at you that way before. With the tip of your finger, you tilted his chin up. "You have four minutes, and then I have to go."

Since the moment the group of those women walked in, she took his breath away. That dress accentuated her body so well. Her hair was perfectly slicked back into a ponytail that Harry couldn’t help but want to pull as she showed him how good her mouth can be. Forgive him for being so crude but he couldn’t get the thought of her on her knees out of his mind. Sue him.

Harry had a few drinks in his system. He was deciding that he had enough liquor courage to go over and spit it out. He had a feeling, a very strong gut feeling that his thoughts we’re being ran inside her pretty little head too. There was no way he was going home alone tonight, and if he was, at least he tried.

After downing another green tea shot, Harry aimlessly threw both his arms around his friend’s shoulder automatically making them huddle with their eyes on the curly haired man as if he were about to propose a toast, “Y’can all go home without me. I think m’getting lucky tonight.”

The loud music was no distraction to the coital thoughts running in his brain, not understanding what was consuming him so much about this woman who he hadn’t heard a single word slip out of those pretty, red lips. 

Her eyes didn’t leave Harry, watching as he so confidently walked through the crowd of sweaty, inebriated people. She had a smirk on her tainted lips. Harry mirrored it, finally close enough to smell her strong perfume and breathe the same air as she.

Harry leaned against the table beside her, softly grabbing her elbow to pull her in and speak directly into her ear. “There’s a man in here, Harry I believe, looking for the girl with the pretty red lips wondering if he can take her home tonight.”

She giggled. God, that laugh. 

She flattened her hand on Harry’s chest, tiptoeing in her heels that didn’t help much in comparison to Harry’s height, her other hand reaching for his chin to tip his head down.

“You can tell Harry that she’s ready to go.”

Harry smirked as his eyes momentarily rolled back. Her voice had to be the most beautiful tune Harry had ever heard. It had him in a tight chokehold and all he could wonder was how good she’d sound moaning his name. He immediately dug into his pocket for his phone, ordering an uber for the pair to go back to his house for the beginning of their night together.

There was plenty of ubers around there area meaning his uber had arrived no longer than a minute after he ordered it. His hand came up to the small of her back, guiding her through the pool of intoxicated people, and out the front door, searching for the red sedan that was about to confine them for 7 minutes into the ride of what he had no idea would be the best night of his life.

“After you,” Harry held the door open, as the woman climbed into the car, then joining beside her with a small huff. He turned his head to face her, finally looking at her up close and personal. 

“I’m trying really hard to not pull you in and kiss you right now.” He confessed barely above a whisper, eyes glancing between her own and those lips that kept calling out his name.

She smirked, licking her lips and leaning in close enough to faintly feel them on his, tips of noses touching and breathing each other’s air. “How unfortunate that you have to wait a few minutes before getting to enjoy me. Gotta love an eager man, hm?”

Her hand creeped onto Harry’s thigh, slowly running closer to the one place he most needed attention. He hadn’t even noticed how hard he was. Not until her hand palmed his clothed cock with that smirk widening on her lips.

“My name’s (Y/N). Wanna make sure I hear you say it when your cock is down my throat.” 

Harry had to suppress a whine. A true minx under the skin of what could come off as an innocent woman. But God, no. That was far from true, and Harry was yet to be aware of this. 

(Y/N) made sure to keep her voice at a whisper, not wanting to let the driver in on their conversation.

The car ride soon came to an end, and it felt far too long for Harry. He slammed the door shot after they both got out, apologizing to the air for his aggressiveness. One hand held (Y/N)’s as they walked towards his front door, the other fumbling to get the right key into the knob and turning it harshly to finally let them in and be free from their sexual torment. 

Harry barely let go of the key before (Y/N) pulled him into a desperate kiss, muffling moans of relief and pathetic whimpers. It was intoxicating. He could taste remnants of mint and melon on her tongue as they both stumbled through the hallway and into Harry’s room. Aimlessly slamming the wall to find the switch. 

(Y/N) pulled away, rolling her bottom lip into her mouth and keeping it there with her teeth as her hands slowly and teasingly pulled her dress down, leaving her clad in nothing but a black lace thong. She dropped to her knees, fingers working quick to unbutton Harry’s jeans and swiftly shoving them down along with his briefs.

And those eyes. Those fucking eyes that speak for themselves stared up at him so innocently as her viscous tongue laid flat on the base of Harry’s cock, licking up to the crown of his tip and beginning to slowly take him in by inch. Like a cock sucking professional, she took him in completely as her eyes rolled back and a moan vibrated on the skim of his cock. 

“Fuck me.” Harry moaned out while she began to suck on him like her life depended on it, bobbing back and forth. She was so skilled, so perfectly in tune with how good she was and that alone was driving Harry wild. He was struggling to stay standing as he felt like his knees could buckle at any moment. Harry’s hand grabbed her ponytail, wrapping it around his fist for leverage and she obliged. Her mouth fell open, eyes once more gazing into his as if she was asking him to fuck her mouth.

So he did. Every gag elicited a moan from Harry, a pathetic sound letting her know that he felt good – so fucking good.

“Such a perfect fucking mouth, (Y/N). Where have you been all my life?” He huffed, head falling back as his climax approached with a twitch of his cock, painting the back of her throat white with ribbons of his cum. And she didn’t waste a drop, swallowing every bit of his seed like if it were honey. 

“Does this mean I can get fucked now? Was I good enough?”

Harry scoffed in disbelief. Could she be any more perfect? Harry pulled her up by the ponytail, (Y/N) wiping her oral commissures with glossy eyes. “Get on the bed.”

 While (Y/N) slipped out of her thong and climbed into bed, Harry rolled a condom onto his cock, walking to the edge of the bed where she laid with her legs spread wide open for him.

“Fuckin’ hell. Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. Look at you. So fucking wet for me already.”

Her pussy was glistening with her arousal, dripping down to her tightest hole and the whole sight had Harry struggling to breathe.

Harry aligned the tip of his cock to her drenched hole, gripping her thighs tightly as he thrusted in until he bottomed out and a sleek moan left her mouth.

“I – fuck! Please, Harry. Fuck me. Please. Move.” 

(Y/N)’s neediness made Harry smirk, leaning down to kiss her as his hips started thrusting in an even, yet harsh rhythm. Her cunt was so tight around Harry, the slick sounds filling the thick air and into the ears. It was the perfect recipe for a perfect song. Her repeated moans of Harry’s names, the sound of their skin slapping together, her drenched cut swallowing Harry’s cock.

Harry’s mouth breathed in all her muffled moans as her hands flew to his back, her nails digging into his skin and scratching down enough to rip his skin and make it burn. But it felt so good and it stroked his ego. Harry’s hands left her thighs and gripped the sheets beside her torso, fucking into her mercilessly and with one goal.

“Fuck. Y’keep clenching. Come for me, (Y/N).”

(Y/N) whimpered with a soft nod as her hands fell from his back to grip his biceps hard as she finally let go around his cock, immediately milking Harry for all he’s got to spill into the condom with sloppy thrusts.

Harry was spent. He pulled out of her pussy, walking into his ensuite bathroom to slip off the condom and drop it into the bin. He could hear her feet on the floor, padding softly before he was joined by her sitting on the toilet. It felt oddly domestic, making Harry chuckle and leaving her on her own.

--

Harry woke up the following morning to an empty bed and the corner of a ripped piece of paper on his nightstand with a phone number and (Y/N)’s name. Harry sat up in his bed as he reached for the paper and his phone, quickly going to his messages and typing in her phone number.

‘Thank you for the fun night. Hope we can repeat it soon. H’

Yet despite just one night and only knowing her name, Harry was intrigued. He carried on with his day lazily spent on the couch, repeatedly checking his phone for a message to come in. He felt pathetic to be checking every so often, finally deciding to just throw his phone onto the other end of the couch and reach for it whenever he’d hear that ding.

And it came in.

Harry groaned into the air as he leaned over and snatched his phone, reading her message over and over with a growing smirk on his face. 

‘You can expect me there next weekend. x’

Somehow, someway, they ended up texting every day for the whole week and ending their nights with long phone calls where they spoke about each other and whatever they did for that day. Harry knew he was developing a crush on this woman, more excited than ever to see her again and not just for the good sex.

But he had to admit, the sounds of her slick pussy lived in his mind – and he loved to remind her of it.

It was Thursday night, their routine phone calls in play as he wiped his kitchen counter, phone pocketed between his ear and shoulder and a soft moan came through. 

“What are you doing?” Harry froze his ministrations, letting out a deep breath before he heard her voice again through the phone.

“Can you guess?” Her voice was soft and laced with lust, another moan following and rushing straight to Harry’s cock.

He dropped the towel on the counter, walking straight into his room as his heart began to race. “If you’re getting yourself wet for me,” Harry groaned as he fell back onto his bed, hand slipping into his sweats and wrapping around his cock,

“I guess you’re all mine.”

--