chronic overthinker

The next morning, Harry left a slumbering Y/N tucked beneath his covers to go fetch her dog from her apartment. After barely three hours of sleep, he was up at the crack of dawn, quietly creeping around the house so he wouldn't wake her.

The night before had taken more out of her than she'd let on.

Once she'd cried herself out in his arms, Harry left a towel and a spare set of clothes outside the bathroom so she could change out of her rain-soaked ones. Due to the nature of his work, he never found time to cook for himself, the consequences of which Y/N also had to suffer when he warmed up the frozen meal he bought (which thankfully was a ten-minute pizza they could easily split) for them to share. Except Y/N didn’t eat much at all— only picked at the crust, took maybe three bites and then quietly told him she wanted to go to bed.

Now unfortunately for Harry, he’s never been in a situation quite like this one.

Firstly, he almost never has people over at his place, and it was a bit weird just seeing Y/N there, hanging out in his kitchen, using his shower, sleeping in his bed. It was definitely not helping the little crush that he had on her. Seeing her all cozied up in his space gave him false hope that someday things could be like this, when the circumstances weren’t so life-threatening.

Secondly, he was really bad at comforting people and dealing with emotions (he never adressed his own, so how was he meant to help others?), thus he didn’t think he was the right person for her to be around when she was obviously hurting and feeling so vulnerable.

But nonetheless, life dealt him these cards and Harry had no choice but to live with them. It helped that it was her he had to be around; he liked her company a great deal, even if he didn’t do a good job showing so with his actions (or even his words). She was pretty and she was funny, and when she wasn’t scared for her life, she was adorable— like a deer— a resemblance he established when he first met her at the bar.

He’d been to her flat once before, and she lived close to Niall, hence getting there with no navigation wasn’t an issue. Though he had to keep lookout for any wanderers nearby, or anything odd, just to ensure no one was trying to track her down. So far the coast was clear, but Harry could never be too careful, comforted by the cold barrel of a gun pressed into his abdomen under the waist of his jeans.

There was a backup key beneath a plant by her door which Harry nabbed, albeit infuriatingly because of how unsafe that location was. After all of this was over, he made a mental note to give her some sort of safety training or self defence classes so if need ever arises, she’s not completely clueless. Although Harry was ready to give his all to make sure no harm ever came to her, he knows he can’t always be with her; protecting her.

The sharp, shrill sounds of Coco barking came before he could enter, and once he did, the dog tackled his legs and twisted between his ankles, “Hello mister,” Harry cooed, bending so he could pet between his ears, “Let’s get you home to mum, hmm?”

He quickly filled Coco’s bowl with food and water, and then got to work, picking out which essentials she might need while at his place. Harry doesn’t know how long this issue might play over; all he knew was that she could not be out of his sight for even a second. Being with him was the safest bet for Y/N right now, and he wanted to make sure she was as comfortable as she could be while living in (technically) a stranger’s apartment for god knows how long.

It felt invasive and borderline unethical for him to poke around her room and bathroom, grabbing her toothbrush, cleanser, charger and whatnot. He didn’t have any list or anything to go by, so he was going with his intuition as he plucked her kindle off her bedside, assuming it might help take her mind off things. Going through her clothes and underwear drawer was too much though; Harry had to draw the line somewhere. He had ample clothes for her to borrow, and in terms of undergarments, he’d swing by the mall to grab her a pack of underwear or something— the idea of which made his heart pound slightly and his cock twitch a bit. 

Entering the kitchen, Coco began jumping at his feet again with his tongue sticking out. Harry knelt to pick the pup up. He tucked him in his elbow, his tiny size convenient for Harry’s muscled arm, “You’re just a needy thing,” He tsked. A quick glance around her kitchen and Harry found a colorful list of meals magnetted to her fridge. It looked like a meal plan of some sorts; dishes she probably rotates throughout the week for breakfast, lunch and dinner. With his free hand he got his phone and quickly took a photo of the sheet, hoping he could recreate some of these to make her feel more at home. How he would do that with nil cooking skills was a problem for the future.

He did one last sweep of the place before grabbing his big tote bag and nestling Coco inside of it. Her stuff and the dog were separated by a soft towel, and Harry hoped the poor thing could bear the ten-minute ride on his bike back to the mall and then his place. It took some trial and error and some adjusting, but he managed the bag between his legs for the journey.

When he finally got home, she was still asleep and snoring softly. He stealthily set down her things on his counter and Coco began wagging his tail manically as he bolted for Harry’s room where his owner was resting. Before the pup could make it, Harry rushed to gently shut the door so he couldn’t pounce on the girl. Coco whined a bit and sadly looked up at Harry, “Sorry honey,” He ushered him into the living room where he pulled out the dog toys he picked up from a pet store, “Took her so long to fall asleep.”

Coco busied himself and so did Harry. He stepped into his kitchen and unloaded the groceries he got for breakfast bagels— a food he spotted circled with red marker on Y/N’s fridge. He hoped that meant she fancied it, because he was about to conquer the feat of cooking the dish for her; a challenge which paled in comparison to all the fights and mountains he had to climb working in a gang.

He put on a Youtube video with the most views and the most likes and set his phone against the counter. The apron he barely ever used that Mitch got him for his birthday (black, with the words “The Grillfather” embroidered across the chest) was wrapped around his torso as Harry pinched his bottom lip, soaking in the instructions with unwavering concentration.

He doesn’t know how long he spends there, hunched over his stove with about seven eggshells around him and splatterings of smashed avocado all over his apron and hands. There was something in the recipe about scrambled eggs, but they couldn’t be overcooked or they’d be rubbery— the avocado had to have no lumps, yet getting the core out of them was literally making Harry insane, especially when the third one flicked him on the forehead as he tried a trick he saw on reddit (he had to find an r/avocado thread to figure out when they were ripe enough to smash and eat, but not enough to be rotten).

By the time he had one decent looking, hopefully edible bagel cut in half on a ceramic green plate, he heard movement from his bedroom, signalling someone had just woken up and gone into the bathroom. Quickly he got rid of all the evidence; stuffing the eggshells into the trash, wiping the mayo and avocado from his counters, hastily undoing the apron around his waist. 

Worried she’d be out any second, he set the plate on the table (casually) and put a pot of coffee on. A few minutes later, his door creaked open and Coco lost his marbles. “Oh my god, my sweet baby angel,” He heard Y/N coo, mixed with the sounds of shrill barking. Harry poked his head around the corner for a sight he was not ready to see.

Y/N was on the floor, her legs crossed over one another adorned in just Harry’s black shirt. It was way too big on her, already oversized when he wore it, so it pooled around her body and slung off of one shoulder. At some point in the night she must have forgone the sweats he left out for her, because to his dismay, her legs were bare and utterly distracting. Coco was nestled in her lap, jumping up to lick her jaw and chin as Y/N scrunched up her face, “Okay! Okay, thank you,” she giggled, picking the pup up and plopping him on the carpet. Coco began looping around her feet. 

From across the room, she met his eyes, and something in her expression shifted when she noticed her belongings on his counter, “Harry,” She started, “When did you do this?” Slowly, she got off the floor and petted Coco one last time before coming over to the counter. Harry had to hold himself back from kissing her silly, “Y’were asleep when I woke up, so I thought I’d get some of your things. Coco, too, of course,” He replied. He toyed with his hands behind his back, one coming up to rub behind his neck as she began going through the tote. 

“Aw, Harry, thank you so much,” Y/N murmured in a soft voice. Butterflies erupted in Harry’s stomach like he was a schoolgirl or summat, doubling in effect when she suddenly gasped, “You brought my kindle?”

Harry ran a finger beneath his nose nonchalantly, “Oh yeah, thought you might want that one, help take your mind o— oh.” A soft gasp was punched out of him as Y/N tackled him in a hug, both arms wrapped around his neck. She buried her face in his throat and Harry thanked whatever deity was up there for this moment’s reprieve. “Thank you,” Y/N said genuinely. When she pulled away, Harry forced himself not to pout his bottom lip like his instinct was telling him. Already, he missed her warm body against his. His hands were still on her waist, “S’okay, was no trouble, baby,” The pet name slipped out unintentionally— and it had a few times already, but Harry wasn’t going to stop if the reaction he got from her was this; cheeks going red and eyes widening like a deer.

“I—uh, made you some breakfast if you’re hungry. You must be, actually. Didn’t eat much last night,” He changed the topic. Y/N turned to look at the table, noticing the bagel which Harry was immensely proud of, presented on a pretty plate. She looked back at him with a little grin, “I didn’t know you could cook!” Excitedly she took a seat across from him.

“Me neither,” Harry said under his breath. He got to work preparing her coffee. The second time he came to her apartment, she was kind enough to offer him some, because of which he remembered how she took hers: two sugars and heaps of milk. He used his fancy mugs; pouring into pink and baby blue ceramics. “How are you feeling today?”

Y/N nodded slowly, chewing with her eyebrows raised, “Better— hey, you’re a real good cook! How did y’know I liked brekkie bagels?”

“Just a hunch,” Harry shrugged, “Sleep well?”

She sipped her coffee, “Um, yeah, not too bad. Your bed is really nice.”

“That’s good.”

“I… I was up for ages ‘cause I couldn’t stop thinking about everything, y’know, like, you being in a gang, plus Coco being home alone,” Y/N shuffled, picking at a loose crumb, “Then I realised it wasn’t doing me— or anyone, any good. Me worrying won’t make this go away. I’m just… just lost. I don’t want to be this dead weight you dread carrying around. I want to be proactive.”

She looked at him with real curiosity, eagerly awaiting his response. He was glad to hear she was more comfortable and not as stressed anymore, but when it comes to what the outcome would be, Harry himself was sort of in the dark until he met the others and discussed a proposition, “Mm, that’s nice you’re feeling better,” He started, eyebrows creasing, “We’ll go back down to the warehouse after this. Some more of us will be there too, n’we’ll try to come up with something— something safer for you, and just settle this shit once and for all. I’m sorry you got dragged into my mess.”

“No, no, everything I did was my own choice, Harry, it’s not your fault,” She waved her hand dismissively, “And for the time being I think I feel safest when… when I’m with you,” Y/N said, quietly. She didn’t meet his eyes, busying herself with pulling her bagel apart into bite size pieces. From where he stood, he could see her cheeks ablaze. 

The words lit something inside Harry.

Someone feeling safe in his company was something he never got to hear, ever. Usually people were intimidated by him, opting to have quick conversations so they could scurry away as soon as possible. Only his gang mates would sometimes stick around and chat with him about stuff other than the current coup or drug shipment they had to process. Hearing a sweet little thing like Y/N admit so sincerely that she felt secure when she was with him made Harry feel things he’d never felt before. Warmth spread in his chest, along with an instinct to protect her in any way he could, no matter the situation.

His heart was beating at the speed of light as he bit back a smile, “I’ll try to keep it this way.”

-

After Y/N was fed and content, they both got dressed and headed down to his bike to go to the warehouse. Coco would have to spend the afternoon by himself, and this time Harry took precaution, asking his older neighbour Barbara to keep an eye on the pup and his feeding if things went awry. He hoped they didn’t, but it was one thing less on Y/N’s mind to worry about, and that’s all that mattered.

A thousand questions weighed on his mind; what was their POA? How long did Y/N have to live in hiding, not going to work or even sleeping in her own bed? When did that prick begin following her and why didn’t Harry notice earlier? So many things he could blame himself for, and he did, but he also knew doing that was not going to get him anywhere.

“Are we going on the bike?” Y/N snapped him out of his reverie, trailing behind him as they came down the building stairs. Harry pushed the exit door with his shoulder, pressing himself against it so she could pass. “Yeah, for now. I still need to go back and get y’car.”  She raised her brows and put her hands on her hips, “No rush.” He could tell she was nervous getting on the bike with him, like she was last night too. The way she clung to his waist, muttering quiet prayers against his shirt was enough evidence for him to determine this wasn’t going to be that easy.

He was better prepared this time, though, “I got a spare helmet for you.” From his coveted collection he picked out the one he thought would be best for her: A big, black, globe like helmet with adjustable straps so it didn’t slide all over her head like last time. When she opened her mouth to protest, Harry silenced her by slotting it on her head, “Hey!” She cried when she emerged, an angry look on her face through the little gap, “Are these really that necessary?” 

Harry flicked her forehead playfully, “Yes. I’m not endangering your life any further.”

“I’m not sure they do anything but make me immobile and sweaty,” Y/N grumbled. Rolling his eyes, Harry ignored her plea and put his own helmet on. As he patted his hands over his pockets for his keys, he realised they were missing— probably forgotten upstairs on his counter. A pinch pulled his brows together, “Fuck’s sake,” He groaned.

“What’s wrong?”

“Left m’keys at home.” He debated going back upstairs to go get them, but that would mean leaving Y/N down here all alone. No one apart from his gang mates knew where he lived which reduced the chances of anyone creeping up on her and harming her (precisely why he thought she’d be safest at his place). But the risk was too big to take. Like she could hear his inner turmoil, Y/N spoke softly, “Hey, you can go grab them. I’ll be fine.”

Harry looked around the empty parking lot. There was no one here, and only two cars parked on this level, both abandoned. Realistically, she should be fine, and Harry would only be like two minutes, yet he felt he couldn’t be too cautious; specially with her, “Come with me,” He suggested.

“Harry, go. I’m a big girl. I’m sure I can look after myself for five minutes.” She gave him a small nudge. The internal battle he fought crumbled in front of her. He didn’t want her to think he saw her as a liability or weak. If she’s telling him she’d be okay, then she probably will be, right? It took a lot from him to resign, sigh and take his helmet off again. He held up two fingers, “Two minutes. Don’t move, okay?”

“Go.”

Reluctantly, he turned around, bursting through the exit and skipping up the stairs. Every second he spent with her not in his sight made him more anxious. He had no choice but to trust her instinct and hope she’d be okay when he came back down. It took him less than ninety seconds to unlock his apartment and get his keys, basically running down the stairs and out the exit. 

Except Y/N wasn’t there like he thought she’d be. 

His bike stood lone, her helmet on the floor strewn to the side. Panic rose in Harry’s body as he shouted into the carpark, “Y/N?” He ran to all four corners, praying she stepped aside to take a call or something— anything than the one possibility that he was too scared to even address. A shiver went down his spine when only his voice echoed back to him, no trace of the girl. He bent to pick her helmet up and noticed a spattering of blood on the back of it. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, shit, fuck!” He cussed, pacing the room again like she’d magically appear.

His stomach twisted in nausea as he entered fight mode. He had to find her and bring her back. How he could do something so stupid like leave her alone in an empty sketchy parking lot was entirely lost on him. Of course she was going to say she can handle it, but he should have wondered to what extent. Fuck, he really, really hated himself and the way he thought sometimes.

Without another second wasted, he dialed Mitch’s number on his phone. 

“Get everyone in the van.” He started his bike.  “We're going to Dean's.” 

-

Y/N was scared.

It was the only emotion she was feeling as of recent; ever since she almost got kidnapped outside the supermarket a night ago. This situation was pretty similar to that one, the only difference being this time, much to her chagrin, the abductor was actually successful in his motive.

How and when that happened was hard for her to process.

One moment she was tapping on her phone as Harry left to grab his keys; another moment a hand roughly clamped over her mouth through the gap in her helmet. She yelled and she screamed against the sweaty palm, but it made no difference, her cries muffled against skin. It took them merely thirty seconds to drag her flailing body away from the bike and into the back of a car, even after Y/N whipped her head behind her so her helmet bashed into the attacker’s head. He only yelped, called her a bitch, and ripped the item off her head. As much as Y/N had pretended to hate wearing it, she found herself missing the small sense of protection it had offered. Immediately, another pair of hands covered her eyes with a blindfold, pressed a cloth against her nose hard enough to cause tears down her cheeks, and then it was all dark. 

She assumed it was a strong drug because she was passed out pretty bad if the pounding in her head was anything to go by. As she now regained consciousness, she realised her hands were tied to the back of a chair, her feet bound, and her eyes were still covered. How long she was out and where she was, Y/N had no clue. The room she was in was warm, though, the faint smell of leather and alcohol lingering in the air. She was sitting on some kind of wooden chair that dug painfully in her ass, her comfort obviously not a priority to these people.

“Good morning Pumpkin,” Someone said from her right. The voice was gravelly and she didn’t recognise it, “Sleep nice?”

Her head whipped in it’s direction, “Where am I?” Y/N asked shakily. Another voice spoke from the same direction, but this time she recognised the timbre, “Far away from that little boyfriend of yours, I’ll tell ya.” It was the same creep who felt her up at the bar that night— the same one who was waiting to kidnap her before Harry noticed. Nausea twisted in her stomach, “I know you.”

The man laughed. “You don’t know shit,” She yelped as a hand came down on her thigh, trailing upwards. Y/N tried to turn away from it, and this prompted the first voice to talk again. She was grateful as the hand was batted away from her leg, “Dean said we can’t touch her, Gary.”

“Dean isn’t fucking here, is he?” Gary spat. She gasped when she heard a thud followed by a wheeze, fear making goosebumps rise over her skin, “Say some dumb shit like that again and I’ll break your fucking arm,” The second man spoke. Knowing they were capable of such violence that they didn’t hesitate to inflict on each other straightened her right up. If she wanted to get out of here unharmed, she’d have to be on her best behaviour. 

“I trust your treating our guest well, Finn?” A third voice boomed. This one came from further away. Y/N bit her lip to keep from saying something that’d get her in trouble. The second voice— Finn, cleared his throat, “Yes sir.” The honorific made her think that maybe this voice belonged to Dean; a name she’d heard over and over again at both Harry’s warehouse and now. He seemed like the leader, probably, and Y/N trembled slightly in place as his voice came closer, “What’s wrong with him?” 

“He’s got the shits.” 

Gary coughed loudly, sounding strained still from the injury Finn must’ve given him for touching her, “Oh yes, I think I ate something ba—”

“Go fix yourself.”

“Yes sir.” He resigned. Y/N heard his footsteps recede and another pair of steps shuffle closer. She held her breath.

“Harry’s got himself a very pretty little plaything, hmm?” A finger came beneath her chin, lifting her face up. Tears were already streaming down her face out of fear and her lip quivered. She hated that they saw her weakening like this in front of them, but Y/N was feeling very clueless and very helpless as to what she should do right now. Nothing in her twenty three years of life prepared her for being fucking abducted. A whimper fell from her mouth as he cupped her jaw and moved her face left and right, “Would be a shame if we carved into her.”

“You sure this is it, Finn?” Dean asked, roughly letting go of her face. Relief flooded Y/N’s veins when she couldn’t sense him in her personal space anymore. “We’re sure. Picked the lass up straight from his place. They were practically fuck—”

A loud crash made her jump in her chair. Both men became alert, “What the fuck was that?” Finn said. She heard the faint sound of a gun cocking and all the blood from her body drained. Loud bangs resounded from what probably was another room as Y/N writhed in her seat, “What’s happening?”

Her question went unanswered. She could hear the sound of Gary yelling from afar, cries of “They’re here!” echoing, followed by an even louder crash which came from much closer. Close enough that she could safely assume it was the door to the room they were in. More gun sounds and footsteps. Suddenly her hands and feet were cut lose and she was pulled to stand. She yelped as her back was pushed against the front of a tall, beefy body.

“Let her go.”

Harry.

The second she heard his voice, her resolve crumbled and her lip pushed out in an ugly cry, “Harry,” She sobbed. Tears dripped down her cheeks and jaw, and the man behind her whose voice she recognised as Dean’s spoke, “Forty thousand. That was the agreement,” Something cold tucked against her neck— something that could only be the barrel of a gun. 

“Let. Her. Go.” Harry demanded. He sounded closer, the notion of which made her breathe a little easier. Another voice she recognised spoke up, “You’re outnumbered Dean.” Mitch. “I would be smart and give in if I was you.”

The gun pushed into her neck harder, nearly making her choke, “Forty thousand or you can say goodbye to your girlfriend.”

“We agreed on a payment plan! You signed the contract— it’s not due for another thirteen months!” Sarah yelled. 

“I don’t give a rats ass about any contract. Give me the money or watch her di—”

Before he could finish his sentence, Y/N took advantage of her mobility and stomped her foot atop his as hard as she could. At the same time, she heard Finn yell from her left followed by a gunshot, but she remained focused on the task at hand and whacked the back of her head into his nose. The impact folded Dean in half. Before he had a chance to recover, Y/N yanked her wrists free and tore the blindfold from her face. 

It took a few seconds for her to adjust her vision. Her eyes were blearly because of the tears though she could still make out the small room they were in. It looked expensive— littered with big, comfortable looking brown leather couches with a shattered glass table between them. Bottles of liquor were tipped over on the ground; some smashed and some rolling by their feet. Harry, Mitch, Sarah and two people she didn’t recognise stood at the opposite end of the room, all of them armed. She didn’t waste any time running over to their side.

Harry grabbed her arms, frantically searching her face, “Are you alright? Did they hurt you?” He asked, the calm amongst the storm— commotion all around them as Mitch and the others engaged in combat with who she assumed were Finn and Dean. “Y—yes. I think I’m okay,” Y/N replied. Harry nodded and closed his eyes, unexpectedly kissing her forehead in an act of tenderness, “Fuck, I’m so sorry, angel, I shouldn’t’ve left you on your own. So sorry, baby,” Hands came up to cup her cheeks and wipe away the hot tears staining them.

They didn’t have much time to themselves, though, as Sarah yelled at him to cover her. More gunshots resounded, and Y/N had the misfortune of watching the fight. The two big men who orchestrated the abduction fell to the ground in a pile of blood, groaning in pain. Y/N’s breakfast came back up her throat and she willed herself to tear her gaze away. 

“In the van!” The man she didn’t recognise yelled. Dean and both of his men were down and the group wasted no time to get to leaving the building they were in. She was lost when she stepped out of the room; guided only by Harry’s hand in hers who rounded corners like he knew the place. When they were finally outdoors, it was raining again, drenching them for the ten seconds it took to sprint towards a long, white van. Mitch quickly slid the door open, ushering Y/N in first, followed by Sarah, Harry and the two men whose name she still didn’t know.

Hurriedly, they skidded out of the parking and were immediately on the highway. She recognised the area as one not even thirty minutes from her house, and the thought of that made a chill go down her spine. Harry’s jacket wrapping around her shaking shoulders was what made her jump out of her thoughts. He was tucked next to her, and Y/N didn’t realise she was basically in his lap as she shuffled closer to him absentmindedly. “What you did was very brave,” He muttered, just for her ears. When she met his eyes, her gaze was obstructed by wet hair sticking to her cheeks and forehead. 

Gently, he pushed the strands back and let his hand rest on the side of her neck where he traced circles. She wanted to say something— anything— thank him for getting her out of there, reassure him that it wasn’t his fault, tell him how scared she was— but she had nothing to show except the tears that kept leaking out of her eyes. 

Harry only kissed her forehead again, “S’okay,” He stroked her damp skin, “You’re okay now.”

-

“I think we made matters worse.”

Y/N slept the whole way back to the warehouse. Her head rested on Harry’s shoulder, who tried to calm his heartbeat and convince his panic-driven body that things were okay now. Y/N was safe, and she was right next to him, and no one could take her from him even if they tried. 

This wasn’t Harry’s first rodeo.

He’d been a part of hundreds of raids and shootouts in his years working in the mafia, but he still remembered what it was like when he attended his first one. The sound of a gun going off wasn’t something you ever got used to. Neither was the sight of blood squirting out of a wound of an unconscious person. He could only imagine how terrified the poor girl must be, and how worse she probably felt before they got there; all alone, blind and bound amongst a druglord and his two goons. He can never forgive himself for letting her be in such an awful situation.

As they arrived at the warehouse, she continued slumbering on his shoulder, even when he tried nudging her awake so she could walk inside. The drug they used to get her unconscious must’ve been really strong, because she didn’t budge. With Sarah’s help, he had to carry her inside bridal style, his friend getting the door for him and leading him to the single bedroom. It was barren— no one really spent the night here. Before Zayn left they never even came to the warehouse. Gatherings were normally at his mansion where sometimes they’d stay the night and hang out together. When he was gone, they had to put all the leftover money together to establish a new base, which was this ratty old warehouse until they could afford something new and nicer.

Thankfully the room had a soft bed with sheets on and a small electric heater that did a good job warming up the place in ten minutes. He set the girl down on the mattress, but as he let go to leave her alone, she fisted his shirt tightly, “Stay,” She mumbled sleepily. 

And Harry was many things, but he wasn’t a fool. If his sweetheart wanted him to stay, then he’d stay for as long as she needed. He owed her that much after what he put her through the past few weeks.

So he sat there next to her, stroking her hair while she curled her head on his lap. Maybe it was time for him to finally address the elephant in the room— his evergrowing feelings for Y/N. At first he thought it was just a crush; the kind you have when you spot a cute girl from across the bar and think about buying her a drink and then bedding her. Except Harry only did the former instead of the latter, because he was too scared to go any further with her. She was so keen and so eager when she first came up to him. He spotted her intentions from a mile away. The way she rambled nervously, fidgeted with her hair, her dress, and then when he went to leave she grabbed his hand, asking him to come home with her… She was driving him nuts already.

He couldn’t get her off his mind after that. Not as he rode his bike home, warmed up a frozen steak dinner and then went off to the warehouse to see Mitch. Not as they had to do a raid in return for a debt owed to bigger lord and Harry ended up getting badly slashed and beat. And certainly not when she patched him up in her bathroom, offering her sweet smiles and worried glances. 

Everything escalated when Gary plotted to kidnap her outside the convenience store. Harry liked to believe fate brought them together that night; that he was meant to be there to save her, bring her back to his place and give her solace. Seeing her in his space was probably the tipping point, though. It gave him a glimpse into a reality which he knew was impratical. Even if he did act on his feelings for her, he’d be selfish. How can he willingly let her into this violent, painful world of his knowing it would only bring her down too?

“I think we made matters worse,” Sarah brought Harry back to earth, standing quietly in the doorway. She was all changed now, rid of blood-soaked clothes, “We’re only delaying the inevitable. Dean will come back for his money. He’s a greedy bastard.”

“I think we’ll be okay for a while,” Harry said softly so as to not wake Y/N. Sarah gave him a look that read ‘are you fucking out of your mind’, “What makes you say that?” 

“We’re wiring him half.”

“What?”

He looked back down at Y/N— at the slight rise and fall of her chest and the puffs of air making her hair flutter beneath her nose, “Should be there in about two days.”

“What are you talking about? We can’t afford that, Harry,” Sarah walked in now, taking a seat at the foot of the bed. She still had an incredulous expression; staring at Harry like he’d grown a second head. “I can.” He replied simply.

Sarah frowned. “...How?”

When he didn’t say anything, realisation dawned on her face. Her shoulders sagged and she began nodding her head ‘no’, “Harry.” The room fell silent. Sarah searched his face, waiting for him to smile, to admit he was joking and this was all a big prank. That the truth was anything but the insane possibility she silently considered in her head.

He didn't.

“Your escape funds?” she asked quietly.

It was true. After getting off the phone with Mitch at the parking garage, Harry didn’t waste any time organising the transfer to Dean. To do so was literally insane, he knows, but money comes and goes, but there is only one Y/N on this earth who he’d really, really like for her to stay. At least for as long as she’d have him.

The funds in question accumulated in a special savings account he opened when he first joined the gang. The idea was to deposit as much of his earnings as he could in the bank so he could save up enough to study and pursue his dreams when he paid off his debt. Before falling into this world of trouble, Harry had plans to become a criminal psychologist. He’d been preparing to tackle the degree since he was in high school, properly committed to the point where he had a poster of John E. Douglas on his wall. Things went south when his dad suddenly died and his mum fell ill and bedridden, which forced young Harry to go down avenues he only ever saw people get coerced into on TV.

Somewhere between trying to make ends meet and having to let go of his passion to help people, Harry began relating more to the criminals he studied about rather than the person trying to understand them.

Now he hoped that maybe this repayment would contribute towards his debt being paid off to the gang and he might actually be able to leave sooner and do all the things he wants to do, like go back to uni and study. This could work in his favor— he just needed to look at it the right way.

Harry knows Dean would stop at no end. It didn’t matter that they’d shot and injured him and his two best men. He would come back, and now he knows Harry’s soft spot is Y/N, creating a risk beyond his imagination. There was no way Harry would let Dean or any of his men touch her; and if the price for that was to delay his freedom, he’d do it a hundred more times in a heartbeat.

Harry nodded once. “Most of what I had.”

“Harry that’s fucking crazy!”

He looked down at Y/N for a long moment before speaking. “Maybe,” His fingers scratched sweetly at her scalp, “But I could never live with myself if anything happens to her again.”

-

This time when Y/N awoke, she was very happy to find herself tucked beneath Harry’s familiar covers. The pillows smelled like him and Y/N shamelessly dug her nose into the cushion, breathing deeply as the past events eventually dawned on her. 

Within a span of seventy-two hours, two times there were attempts to kidnap her, one of which was successful. She learned that her new friend whom she had a massive crush on was part of the mafia. She was abducted and taken by a druglord and used as bait plus ransom to demand a forty thousand dollar payment. And in that process, she saw three men get shot and injured while in the middle of an active shootout. Whenever she closed her eyes, all she could see was Dean and Finn laying on top of each other, bloodied, one clutching his leg and the other his arm, groaning in pain. 

Just a couple of months ago she had no idea that these people even existed. Her life consisted of her and Coco, her five shifts a week at the ice cream shop and the occasional night out she’d frequent with her friends every now and then. She kept her head down and worked hard to pay off her student loans, not a whiff of anything this nasty coming her direction. All until one night she got the hots for a mysterious man at the bar, and everything changed.

She was well-rested now, assuming she’d slept for about five or six hours since the last thing she remembered was being in the van and then carried onto a bed somewhere. Faint were the memories of a hand stroking her hair and her cheek gently, and the next thing she knew, she was waking up in Harry’s apartment again. The massive window overlooking the park in his bedroom told her it was well into the night— the moon a dim light casting shadows on his carpet. 

There was no sign of him in the bathroom or anything, so she guessed he was probably sleeping in the living room again. Y/N pulled the covers off and slowly sat up. There was a slight headache nagging her brain which was most likely happening because she hadn’t drank water or eaten anything for a long time. Not since this morning when Harry made her that delicious breakfast bagel. Or was it yesterday morning? Fuck, her sense of time was all out of sorts and her phone was dead too so she couldn’t check to confirm.

Grabbing the device to plug it in in the kitchen, she crept her way outside the room and into the living area. Coco must’ve been asleep as the only sounds in the house was of her door creaking open. Like she expected, Harry was there, but he was awake, pacing in front of his couch with his phone glued to his hand. He looked concentrated with his lip between his fingers, not clocking that Y/N was standing inches away from him.

She would’ve spent longer just being there watching, if she was being honest. Harry was a beautiful man and she knew this, yet tonight was different. His chest and back were on display, miles and miles of smooth, tanned, tatted skin stretched over beefy muscles. He  wore only a pair of gray sweats that slung low on his hips and his hair was down, tucked behind his ears to keep swept back from his face which was pulled into a small frown. Whatever he was doing had his attention entirely as he only noted her presence when the floorboards cried under her weight.

“You’re awake.” He shut his phone off and took the two steps towards her. The only light in the room was from the moon and stars pouring in through his windows, illuminating the right side of his face. 

“Hi,” Y/N replied, fidgeting with her fingers. The realisation dawned upon her that she was still wearing his clothes— a big, gray hoodie (might be the other half of the bottoms he had on) and black sweats. They were soft and they smelt like him, and that might’ve been a contributing factor towards how much she was sleeping around him recently. Tentatively, he tossed his phone on the couch and came closer to her, nearly toe to toe, “Hi. Sleep okay?”

“Yeah. How long was I out for?”

“Like seven hours, I think.”

“Wow.” Seven hours was crazy for Y/N who never had much time to herself anyway. She was always either working or doing chores around the apartment, taking Coco out for walks, getting her ratty car fixed or loosing sleep over not being able to pay next month’s rent. Knowing she knocked out for that long was throwing her nervous system for a loop. Her anxiety keeps trying to convince her she has something to do or she’s forgetting something important even though she knows that’s not the case.

Harry reached a hand up to gently tuck her hair behind her ear, a gesture he was doing a lot of recently. Y/N liked it though— it made her tummy flutter and her heart race as he gazed down at her with an unrecognisable expression. She felt exposed but in a good way. “Yeah. Can’t blame you. Today was a lot.” His hand stayed there, tracing the side of her face with his thumb absentmindedly. 

Y/N looked away for a moment before speaking, “I don’t want to talk about it.” She was getting tired of it being the only thing on her mind; as she slept, as she woke, as she ate, as she talked to other people. In the back of her head, images of Gary waiting outside the store with a cloth in his hand never left, and now they were joined by the grotesque visual of Dean and Finn piled on top of each other with gunshot wounds. She would do anything just to think and talk about anything else for even a moment.

“That’s okay. We don’t have to.”

“How come you’re up?” She changed the topic. It was getting hard to focus on anything but the warmth emanating from his bare torso, which if he moved slightly, would be pressed right up against her. The prospect caused her thoughts to snowball. Now she was thinking about the hard lines of his abs she’d feel beneath her fingers and the muscled pillows of his pecs. A lone chain with a cross pendant rested between them and Y/N was itching to grab and pull on it. 

“Can’t sleep.”

“Oh,” She attempted to compose herself, willing her thoughts away so she could speak coherently, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Why didn’t you come home with me that night?” The question was one which weighed on her mind all the damn time. Ever since he let her down and she had to go back to her friends unsuccessful, she wondered what it was about her that did it for him. The constant rambling? The nervous tremble in her fingers which she attempted to mask by sipping her drink? Or was there something else he wasn’t telling her? Judging by the way he now clenched his jaw and looked away, she began to think it was the latter.

“Y/N….” He started, hand slipping down to the side of her neck but never leaving her skin. 

“No, I want to know,” She pressed, laying her own palm over the swallow on the right side of his body. The touch must’ve caught him off guard, because he looked at her hand and then her face before swallowing, making his Adam’s apple bob, “I always think about it. About you,” Y/N continued, “…Us.”

Harry shook his head. “It’s complicated.”

“What does that even mean?” Her voice was laced with confusion. What did he mean? From her point of view, the proposition was simple. Transactional. A give and a take. One night stands weren’t so outdated were they? Unless he just didn’t want to, which is fair, of course, but she’d like it if he told her straight up rather than beating around the bush with ‘it’s complicated.’  “Am I like, not your type or something? You can tell me, I just want you to be hone—”

“No! No, that’s not it. I think you’re beautiful,” He cut her off. Y/N tried to ignore the way her heart raced at his words, his fingers now fiddling with the hair on the nape of her neck, grazing her skin. 

“Then what?” She asked.

“I just… You shouldn’t be hanging out with someone like me. You saw today how dangerous it can get. I’m not someone you should be around.” 

“You don’t get to make that choice for me, Harry,” Y/N scoffed. “I can make my own decisions. I wanted to take you home that night. I wanted to be around you. Everything I do is out of my own volition.”

“I know,” He seemed almost pained, watching her with an intense heat that sizzled in her veins. One that made her think that like her, he too was picturing their first meeting, wondering where things could have gone if he’d given in. Her grip on his chest tightened just a fraction as her voice lowered to a sultry tone, “I still think about it. What could’ve happened if you’d just said yes.”

In an act of courage, she grabbed his other hand and brought it up to the side of her breast, letting it rest there. Worried that he would’ve yanked it away, she was very pleasantly surprised when he gripped her side hard, fingers digging into her ribs. The pressure of him there was delicious. Suddenly, she felt like she was swaying on her feet, unable to be still, and he was the only thing grounding her.

“Yeah?” He growled, pupils dilated. Taking the one last step that had their noses touching now, Y/N tilted her head up towards him. Their lips nearly brushed at this angle, “Yeah. I still… still want you to. Want you to touch me.”

“Y/N…” Harry groaned. A small gasp left her lips when he brought the hand at the back of her neck to the front, warm palm encasing her throat as he squeezed very lightly— enough to bring her to her tippy toes. Y/N gave in to her intrusive thoughts and looped her index finger around his necklace, roughly pulling him down until he was merely a breath away, “Kiss me.”

She could practically see the internal battle raging on in his head, as his gaze flitted between her lips and her eyes. There was a push and pull between them; something magnetic when she’d lean in and he’d tease her, and then he’d brush his bottom lip against her top one like a reward. When he did it a second time, she whined, yanking the chain one more time when he whispered, “Fuck.”

Harry’s lips crashed into hers, his grip around her throat so strong she felt like he was lifting her up singlehandedly. A whimper left her as he traced the seam of her lips with his tongue, asking her to open up for him. When she did, he licked into her mouth, tilting her face to the right as he pleased to have better access.

The way he kissed made Y/N’s toes curl— it was like he wanted to crawl inside of her, tasting behind her teeth, sucking her bottom lip and then biting it, hard. She could feel the sheer desperation in the way he used his other hand to push her hips, walking her backwards towards his bedroom, “I think about it too,” He started, finally letting her breathe, but he didn’t go far as he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisse down her jaw and neck, “I wanted to take you right there. Sweet little thing asking me so nicely— wearing that pretty dress,” He twisted so his back was to the bed and she faced him, still reeling from the grip he had on her throat, “Wanted to fuck you hard on my bike. Bend you over the seat and silence you with my fingers as I pounded this needy pussy.”

Y/N was on a whole other plane. She didn’t know her Harry was so filthy. The pure smut that spewed from his mouth so easily had her thinking this wasn’t his first time imagining the scene either. His hand trailed beneath her shirt and toyed with the waistband of her sweats, and she knew if he looked at her undies, she’d have soaked right through them. With every step she took, she could feel herself seeping down her thighs. “I wanted you to,” She whispered. Y/N jumped as his hand went beneath her sweats to grab a handful of her ass, her moan muffled against his lips, “I know, baby,” He replied, kissing the corner of her mouth, “Strip.”

Harry gave her hips a nudge. He sat on the edge of the bed and spread his legs wide, the girl standing between them utterly flustered and hot. He looked at her patiently with both his arms behind him, holding him up. Y/N felt like she was putting on a show for him as she stood there buzzing nervously, fingers finding the hem of her shirt. The last thing she saw before she slowly pulled it over her head was Harry’s hand sliding down to his crotch, giving his cock a squeeze. There was a faint outline of it pressed up against his abdomen and it looked big, slightly curved to the left.

Having forgone a bra, Harry was immediately met with the sight of her bare tits, nipples peaked. He groaned her name, rubbing his cock faster with his lip between his teeth. Each sound he made went straight to her throbbing pussy which cried for his attention. Y/N then worked on her sweats. She untied the string, tugging them down before stepping out of the pile of fabric. She was wearing the underwear that he bought her, and now that she was standing bare before him, she wondered if he had an ulterior motive when buying them considering the pink bow on her mound and the lace which hugged her hips.

He seemed like he was restraining himself from touching her, gaze darting from her tits, to her tummy, to her pussy, to her thighs where she dripped. To rile him up further, a mischievous glint sparkled in Y/N’s eyes as she slyly turned around so her ass was in his face. Slowly, she bent over while at the same time hooking her thumbs into her underwear to pull it off. “Fuck me, baby,” Harry sounded whiney and pretty behind her, “So beautiful.”

Her puffy, wet pussy was probably on full display, and the action did what she intended when he roughly grabbed her hips and pulled her back, seating her right on his clothed cock. Y/N writhed under his touch, shifting her hips for any sort of friction as his hand went to her throat again, turning her face so he could kiss her. This new angle drove her crazy, especially when he let his free fingers snake down to where she leaked. He passed his fingers over her folds twice, pushing them against her throbbing clit to feel it’s heartbeat, “Harry…” Y/N cried into his mouth. She had to pull away when he stuffed a finger inside, deep, curling against her g-spot instantly. He pumped it once, twice, before sadly leaving her empty and wrapping his lips around the finger. His gaze never wavered from hers, closing momentarily as he tasted her, “Taste so sweet, angel. Want you to sit on my face.”

Y/N froze, “What?” She’d never tried that though she’d seen it in porn and read about it in stories. Obviously it intrigued her, and it did look like it felt really good but her nerves were getting to her— how would he breathe with her blocking his airways? Would her weight not crush his neck? As if he noticed her hesitance, Harry kissed her jaw, then her cheek before meeting her eyes, “I want you to sit on my face so I can eat your pussy. S’so good baby, need to feel you everywhere. Want you everywhere.”

“I’ve never um— never done that before,” Y/N admitted. Harry helped her turn around on his lap so she wasn’t hurting her neck trying to talk to him. He scooted back on the bed, pulling her body with his, both his hands holding hers, “Y’don’t have to if y’don’t want to,” He set his head on the pillow, positioning her so she was on top, thighs astride his waist, “But I think it’d be fun. You’ll feel good,” She could tell he was trying to be patient with her, but his gaze kept flitting down to where she leaked as he licked his lips. Both his palms came up to grab and squeeze her breasts, “Yeah, okay, let’s do it. Will it hurt you?”

He laughed and moved her up, up, and up until she was hovering right above his face. The next words were spoken directly to her pussy, since he was too enthralled by her dripping core to meet her eyes, “Not in the slightest.” Not a second was wasted as he yanked her down, his mouth already open and tongue out. The first lick had her doubling over, a broken moan escaping her lips. Y/N gripped the headboard to steady herself, already struggling to hold it together. Harry was relentless beneath her; delivering long, deep licks all the way from her hole to her clit, which he wrapping his lips around and sucked like a starved man. He didn’t do that annoying thing where they popped on and off, instead, suckling in long bursts. When he needed a breath he paused but continued to press searing kisses over the needy button.

When her hips began moving on their own accord to ride his mouth, she has no idea, but Harry seemed like he liked it given the way he moaned against her. The vibrations travelled throughout her whole body. She was worried he wasn’t getting enough air down there, yet any time she lifted to give him space, his grip on her thighs tightened and he stuffed his face into her further. By the morning, she’s sure she will have finger-sized bruises where he held her.

At one time, she was moving a tad too much, to the point where Harry struggled to get his tongue on her, so he delivered a loud spank to her ass which stilled her immediately. She cried out loud, tears prickling in her eyes from both pleasure and pain as her first orgasm ripped through her. Harry continued to lick her through it, murmuring words of encouragement into her clit. He helped her grind against his tongue how she wanted with his nose pressed tightly against her mound. 

When she came down, there was a bit of fumbling as she shuffled on his body until she was again resting on his dick and not his mouth. One glance at Harry’s face and her heart was doing somersaults— he had a big, toothy smile on his lips, appearing almost pussy-drunk with his lips, nose, chin and cheeks covered in a shiny layer of her arousal. He eyed her lazily as she began rubbing against his cock, “Not too bad?” He asked, referencing to her hesitance just before.

“Mm-mm. I wanna ride you,” She demanded sweetly. Harry chuckled and rubbed her thighs, going up to her hips, her stomach, and then cupping her breasts. Pinching her nipples, he used the grasp to bring her down to his mouth, “Yeah? I’m not sure this tiny pussy can handle my cock, baby. S’big,” He kissed her bottom lip. Y/N pouted, “I can handle it. At least let me try.”

“F’course y’can try,” He replied. She continued grinding against him and began thinking that maybe he was right; he did feel really big tucked against her folds, and all the men she’d ever been with weren’t really that impressive. She was also sort of out of practice when it came to riding someone, but he looked so good laying there cockily, the urge took control of her. 

Both her and Harry worked on taking his sweats off, and she was delighted to see that he wore no boxers, so when the waistband went past his thighs, his massive cock sprung free. Y/N couldn’t help the audible gasp that left her lips. He really wasn’t lying when he said she might struggle riding him. Even Y/N was worried she wouldn’t be able to. He was long, maybe half the length of her forearm, his tip leaking precum already. His balls sat heavy at the base, full and swollen, and he was fucking thick too— if she tried to wrap her hands around it, the tips of her fingers might not touch. Just looking at it made her thighs shake, “Harry…” She whispered, tracing her index finger down the length of it. He twitched, hissing as she circled her thumb on the pink tip, “You’re so big.”

“Too big for you, love?” He asked her, lips open in pleasure. 

“Maybe,” Y/N was being honest with him. He did look too big; enough to burn when he first slid in to her. Yet the thought didn’t scare her as much as it should. She was looking forward to feeling him stretch her out, “But I can take it, I think. How will it fit?” Fitting her palm around it, she gave it one slow stroke. “I’ll make it fit,” Harry growled. He clutched her waist hard, guiding her so she could sink on his cock. 

The loud, high-pitched whine that came from her was unrecognisable to her own ears; never had she ever been so spent and bent over a man’s cock, but Harry was driving her nuts. He looked fucked-out beneath her, with his hair sweaty and sticking to his forehead, eyes following where they joined and jaw dropped open. It took a few seconds for her to sit on him properly and the burn of him inside was almost too much. She could feel him all the way in her tummy. Whimpering, he put an arm around her shoulders and brought her down to his lips. 

Y/N was already feeling immobile. Harry pressed distracting kisses to her lips, soft, wet ones that had her struggling to focus. After about a minute of this, he rolled his hips slightly. The first nudge of him inside punched an embarrassing noise from her, his own groan muffled against her tongue. Y/N began moving her own hips to join him, grinding down as he thrusted up into her. The pain gave way to pleasure after the first few strokes, and because of the angle he was tucked right against her swollen g-spot. His hips dug into her clit with each movement, a different sort of muted pleasure erupting that made her scream.

She was already so wet, and Harry was also leaking, so when they came together the sounds in the room were fucking pornographic. Her pussy was squelching and pulsing as she rode him. “S’that too much?” He asked her after a particularly deep thrust. Y/N arched her back, “No, no— want more. Please, don’t stop,” She said as he fondled with her tits again, “Want it harder.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmmm.” What Harry did next, she wasn’t expecting. His knees bent and he planted his feet on the mattress before stilling his hips. Using his hands to stop her grinding, he scooted towards the edge of the bed, still inside of her before cupping her ass with both hands and standing up. This new position made her sob into his shoulder. Her hands went under his arms where her nails scratched down his back as he began pounding into her relentlessly. Harry moved her up and down his cock like she weighed nothing, walking towards his massive windows. Pressing her against the glass, he gathered her wrists and stretched them out above her.

The whole time his dick was merciless— stuffed deep inside of her and moving at a pace she didn’t think was humanly possible (at least not while standing). It took maybe three more strokes before she was creaming all over him. This orgasm was way more intense; she felt it brewing from the tips of her fingers, a hot pool of arousal gathering in her gut before it exploded, spreading through her veins like searing lava. She squeezed and pulsed around him, the action making him whine and cry her name. 

All this must’ve pushed him to his end too, because he pulled out, practically threw her on the bed and stood between her parted thighs. Y/N watched with heavy breathes as he began pumping himself, once, twice, thrice, and then he came all over her pussy and stomach. White, hot ropes of cum pooled in the dip of her ribs, some of it landing on her chin as he released, groaning deeply. The sight of him spent made Y/N want to go all over again, but then the exhaustion settled into her bones and she thought otherwise— she was also still hungry and that wasn’t helping the case.

He tugged one last time before rolling his neck to see her, popping a dimple at her state, “Y’okay?” He asked, patting her knee. Y/N nodded, “Yup.” A warm giggle sounded from him as he pressed a quick kiss to her lips, “I’ll get some wipes.”

-

After they both cleaned up, Harry left to make her a sandwich and get a juice box from the kitchen. She was so hungry after everything she felt like she was on the verge of passing out. The night was slowly turning into day as the first rays of sun filtered into his room. Y/N laid on top of his chest, her belly and heart full. Their legs were tangled beneath the covers and she traced her fingers over the butterfly on his tummy, his own hands grazing her cheek. Her head was tilted towards him.

The past hour had just been empty conversations and sweet nothings— things they never got to talk about despite having known each other so adequately. They spoke of everything but the past few days’ events, and for that Y/N was very grateful. Every now and then he’d nudge their noses together and kiss her. Y/N knew Harry was sweet from the start, but this side of him was a surprise to her; he treated her like she was delicate, like a petal. 

“Harry,” She spoke up after a particularly long pause, “I want this to be real.”

Instantly, he knew exactly what she meant; she could tell by the shift in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but she beat him to it, “And I know what you’re going to say— that it’s dangerous and not safe to be with you…” She continued, “But I also know you’re worth taking that risk. I don't want a safe life if it means it's one without you.” 

Wordlessly, he searched her face for any sign that she was kidding. Y/N looked at him apprehensively, half anticipating that he might reject her, and half anticipating that he might finally do something that’s selfishly just for him. She really hoped it was the latter. A moment passed before he cupped her jaw and brought his lips to hers in a passionate kiss. This one was different to all the others, in the sense that there was no lust behind it. She could feel the emotion poured into it as he rubbed his thumb against her cheekbone. 

“I think I’ve been yours for a while now,” He rested his forehead against hers again, “And I’m really, really tired of pretending otherwise.”

Y/N felt his heart race beneath her palm. “Me too.”

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Ko-fi <3

Harry Styles was not one for regrets.

His life may not have turned the way he expected it to, but he was still proud of where he had come.

Being a professional boxer was a risky job, and Harry had known that when he had decided that it was going to be his career. But there was no other logical option. Harry was an exceptional boxer who was able to go pro at age 18, where he defeated a lot of men who were older and bigger than him.

It was his passion, it always had been. Which was something that was quite remarkable, especially to his closer family members, because Harry was anything but a violent person in his day to day life. He was quite reserved, and managed his temper very well. The years in the boxing ring did harden him quite a bit, his reserved nature developing into something more akin to stoicism.

Nevertheless, Harry loved boxing. It wasn't so much a fight to him, but more of a puzzle. Each opponent had its own made up riddle, and it was up to Harry to solve it as quick as possible. Much like a dance you learn the steps to along the way. A perfect combination of intuitive technique.

He hadn't planned on having to retire at the age of 27 already. It was supposed to be his peak; it had been for almost all boxers in history, and he was looking forward to how far he would be able to push his body during his prime.

He never got the opportunity to get an answer to those questions. A car accident got in the way.

He wouldn't have been able to stop it, he knew that, and he had forbidden himself from thinking about what could've happened had he not taken that specific road back home that horrible night. There was nothing he could do about it now, so there was no point in dwelling on it.

After a year of recovery, he was slowly able to get back into the rhythm of his old life again. Well, except for the boxing part. Knowing that his career in that field was over, he began thinking about some other options of his, and decided on fulfilling another dream of his: opening a gym.

He had always wanted to do it, but he always imagined to be retired by the time he would start on that.

Now, two years later, his gym was already in multiple locations, but Harry was still working at the first one he opened. He would visit the other ones every once in a while to see how everything was going, but he was mainly at the one nearest to his house. It was special to him, the place where it all started.

Despite running the place, and therefore not needing to be on location all the time, Harry was at the gym 24/7. He wasn't a personal trainer—wasn't really his style—but he would help people and teach self defense classes to women.

Every Thursday between 6 and 9, he would teach groups of ten women everything they needed to know on defending themselves from whatever threat they may run into. It was one of the things he was proudest of; the turn out at those classes. That these women put their trust in him, and let him help them become even tougher than they already were.

Tonight, after teaching the last group, Harry had gone to the bar with some of his friends. One of them was Sophie, a woman he had become friends with since she'd joined his self defense class. She was a great person with an impeccable sense of humor, and Harry was glad he had introduced her to Greg, his best friend. They were basically made for each other.

Harry had to admit that he envied his friend for the relationship he had. He was happy for them, but sometimes couldn't help but think that his lack of a partner was this one puzzle piece that would make his life even better. All in good time, he reminded himself.

"Hey," Sophie caught Harry's attention when she waved her hand in front of his face. His gaze shot to hers, eyebrows raised. "So, I was talking about your self defense class today at work. You know, promoting your business and all."

Harry chuckled at the cocky tone in which Sophie told her story, chin up high. He mumble a soft 'thanks', to which she grinned.

"You're welcome. Anyways, I have this new colleague and she seemed so intrigued by it, but she was too insecure about joining. I mean— she didn't outright say that, but I could just tell." She huffed, Greg rubbing her back. Sophie was a very happy person in general and wanted the best for everyone, this new colleague of hers included. Harry had the same habit, it's why he immediately suggested:

"Why don't you invite her along next week? A free try-out."

"But your try-out classes aren't for another two weeks." Sophie noted.

It was true. The self defense classes had become very popular, and since Harry taught them himself, he had scheduled one night of try-out classes a month. He was only able to take on so many people, but he didn't mind making this exception.

"She can join your regular class." Harry shrugged, and Sophie's eyes beamed with excitement.

"Thank you Harry!" She squealed happily, giving Greg a hug to channel her enthusiasm. "Oh, I hope she'll come along!"

"I'm sure she will." Harry assured her with a smile, and took another sip from his beer.

Y/N had never been one for risks.

She had never been the type of person to take the leap of faith, relying more on familiar feeling of security. Why risk hurting yourself when you could be safe and content?

It was the logic she had always operated with, the logic she had been taught from a very young age. Y/N had had a sheltered upbringing. Her parents wanted her and her little brother to be as safe as possible, and that was just fine to Y/N.

Her little brother was the more feisty one of the two, and his childhood consisted of a lot of fighting. It hurt Y/N to see the people she loved so much be so angry all the time, and it only motivated her to be as good as possible. She never drank, smoked, or went to parties. She turned in her homework early and got an A on almost every test. It did put a strain on her relationship with her brother, especially since Y/N's behavior would be used as ammunition towards him.

They still didn't talk all too much, but Y/N hoped that one day, she could repair that relationship again.

Moving a few towns away was a big deal for her parents, but the wonderful job she had gotten as a secretary at quite a prestigious law firm had made it all worth it. They helped her with moving into her apartment, but Y/N would regularly visit them on both weekdays and on the weekends. All in all, she'd had a safe, comfortable, content life.

Until a few months ago.

It was a Friday night, and Y/N had agreed to a date. One of the lawyers at the firm, Oscar, had been flirting with her ever since she started working there. Not wanting to be impolite, Y/N never outright rejected him, and so the flirting continued. She was a bit uncomfortable about it — especially since he was nearing his forties and she was only 23 — but figured the banter was part of the job. She was so shocked when he did ask her to go on a date, she said yes.

It wouldn't be too bad, she figured. She would just go on the date and tell him she wasn't interested afterwards. It could be casual, and no one would be too hurt. The date was definitely out of her carefully moderated comfort zone, but she would step out of it for one night.

The date was fine. Like she had expected, she wasn't interested in Oscar in a romantic way. Still, she listened to his stories, laughed right on cue at all his jokes, and told some of her own anecdotes as well. The dinner was great, and he even offered to walk her home.

They were nearing Y/N's apartment when Oscar had suddenly slowed down his walking pace. She only noticed when she was a few feet away from him, and walked back to where Oscar was standing.

"Are you okay? We're almost there, I promise." Y/N smiled politely, much like she did in the office. Oscar didn't say anything in response, only the corners of his mouth quirking up ever so slightly.

"You're so beautiful, do you know that?" He  complimented her, and Y/N looked at her feet, not quite knowing how to handle the flattery.

"Thank you." She said softly, and froze when Oscar's fingers tilted her chin upwards. Her eyes widened when he suddenly leaned in and put his mouth on hers. After the first few seconds of pure shock slowly passed, Y/N pulled her head back.

Not getting the hint, Oscar grinned and leaned in again, this time with both his hands on her face. Y/N let out a yelp, stumbling backwards. Her body's alarm bells were ringing so loudly, but Oscar must've been deaf to her body language because he backed her up against the wall and kept kissing her.

Y/N cried out as she tried to push Oscar off with her hands, but he only grabbed them and pinned them above her head. Finally, not knowing what else to do, she lifted her knee and kicked him right in the crotch. Oscar shot backwards, groaning loudly as his grip finally loosened on her. He looked incredibly angry.

"What the fuck?!" He bellowed, standing up straight again. Y/N's lip quivered, tears running down her face.

"You wouldn't stop." She said softly, almost in a whisper. Her entire body was shaking from the adrenaline. Oscar's mouth opened to say something, but the conversation got interrupted.

"Oscar!" A woman's voice shouted from down the street. He turned his head, and his face morphed from sheer rage into a lovely smile, the same one he always put up for Y/N back in the office.

"Sophie!" He said, but the mention of her name sounded strained. Sophie... Y/N recognized her name, but she hadn't ever met the woman. She was one of the three female lawyers at the firm. Had been working there for only five years, but her reputation was so badass, everyone knew who she was.

"What are you doing out tonight?" Sophie asked as she gave Oscar a hug, and turned to Y/N. "Who's this?"

"This is Y/N." Oscar replied. "She's a secretary at the firm."

"Nice to meet you." Y/N extended her hand, and Sophie shook it.

"Nice to meet you too! How come I've never seen you around?" She tilted her head.

"I— I work on a different floor."

"Well, I'm glad I met you, Y/N!" She said, the kindness in her tone being a real comfort after that scary moment she just had to live through. Somewhere in the way she said it, and in the way her eyes softened slightly, it almost felt like Sophie knew.

"I— I should go. It's getting pretty late." Y/N decided that this could be her sweet escape.

"Right, I'm gonna bring Y/N home." Oscar said, and your eyes shot to him. Anxiety filled your lungs until all you could breathe was fear. You didn't want to be alone with him. You had no idea what he would be able to do to you. What were you going to do about it? You weren't even half as strong as he was.

"Oh, which way is it?" Sophie asked, turning to Y/N, who was about to open her mouth but got interrupted by Oscar.

"That way." He pointed toward the direction of Y/N's house. Sophie side eyed her colleague, then nodded.

"Exactly the way I was going! Let's go." She hooked her arm into Y/N's, and began walking, ranting about how it was unacceptable that they didn't work on the same floor.

Y/N wordlessly nodded along, filled with gratefulness to Sophie or the universe—or both—for not leaving her alone with Oscar again.

She got home safely about five minutes later, not daring to look Oscar in the eyes as she hugged him and said goodbye, and she only allowed her tears to fall down her cheek when she closed her front door.

Y/N spent the rest of the weekend in bed, not in the mood to do anything. By Monday, she felt both better and worse. She had had some time to come down from the shock of what happened, but the terror that filled her at the realization that she was to see Oscar again, had her stomach turn. On Monday morning, she even got into work late as a result of a wave of nausea that hit her once she'd grabbed her keys, spending the time she used to drive to work to puke her guts out instead.

Later, she'd found out that Oscar had called in sick that day. It gave her some time and space to breathe. Sophie visited her the same day, and she hadn't stopped visiting since.

Oscar did eventually return to work, but they never talked anymore. Y/N didn't dare to look him in the eye, and she avoided him at all costs. One day, about two weeks after everything happened, she did see him waiting by her cubicle, but she hid in the toilet for half an hour and by the time she returned he was gone.

It had been two months since that horrible event, and Y/N had entirely isolated herself. Back to the normal routine, back to what was familiar. It gave her a sense of control. She was fragile, and sensitive. She had just pressed down her sadness and anxiety that lingered as a result from the date, and instead focused entirely on what she could control.

She figured it would be easier. Well, except for the mental breakdowns she'd get when something small didn't go right. The dishes not being cleaned, her vacuum not taking up every speck of dust; it just set her off. It wasn't healthy, but she had no idea how else to deal with these things.

When Sophie mentioned she was following self-defense classes a couple weeks ago, Y/N's ears had perked up. She tried to be subtle about it; asking questions to pry some information about the classes from her. But, being the amazing lawyer she was, it didn't go over Sophie's head, and before she knew it she had an invite to a class.

"See you next week!" Harry exclaimed as the last of the women from the 7pm class left the room. He was still busy putting everything back into place before the next class which would commence in about five minutes.

He was just about done with everything when Sophie walked in, another girl walking in close behind her. Harry couldn't really make up her face, as she stayed closely behind Sophie, even upon nearing him.

Sophie looked proud, probably feeling very accomplished about the fact that she had been able to convince this colleague of hers to take her up on her offer.

"Hey!" She greeted Harry cheerfully, giving him a quick hug. He was still smiling when he turned to the woman standing next to Sophie. His mouth went a bit dry when he took in her face.

"Harry, this is Y/N."

For starters, she was a bit shorter than Sophie, and quite frail too. Her hair was up in a ponytail, leaving her features to be admired out in the open. Her eyes were soft—radiating mostly insecurity at the moment—and wide. Those Bambi eyes and plump, rosy lips...

She looked so... innocent?

He wasn't sure if it was the right word, but he was sure that he had to say something before the silence became too long.

"Hi Y/N." He repeated her name, seeing the slightest flicker of surprise run through the eyes of the woman in front of him. But the slight relaxation of her body told him that his usual trick was working. It was a typical 'strategy' that he would often use with people who were a bit unsure about him. His voice would soften, he would always wear a hint of a smile on his face, and he'd repeat people's names to create a bit more of a familiar environment. It always worked, and he was glad it did. He never wanted anyone, especially a woman, to feel uncomfortable around him.

"Hi." The corners of her mouth tugged up.

Angel.

That's all he could think of as he looked at her. Jesus Christ, she was beautiful.

"Thank you for joining the class. You don't have to join in on everything if you don't feel comfortable. Just observe and see if this is something you would like to practice more often, okay?"

The girl in front of him nodded intently the second he had finished talking. Her eyes widened ever so slightly before she peeped out an, "okay."

Harry grinned, his gaze shooting to Sophie—who was looking at him with this suspicious look on her face that she only got once in a while—before calling everyone in a circle and commencing the class.

This girl, Y/N, turned out to be a real distraction for him. He was so focused on trying to read how she was feeling that he trailed off during explanations a couple times. It was embarrassing, really. He was a grown man for God's sake, why couldn't he just concentrate?

Y/N only joined in for a couple of the basic movements, but she stayed back for most of the class. Her big eyes observed every movement Harry and the others made, impressed with how developed everyone seemed to be in their techniques. He noted that it only seemed to make her more timid, though.

His eyebrows kept knitting every time he looked at her, getting lost in his thoughts on how he could help her become more comfortable in his class. She'd caught his stare about halfway through the class, and at the way her eyes shot to the floor he realized that his gaze was actually doing the completed opposite of what he wanted to do, which was help her.

When the class ended, Harry gave his usual speech about how good everyone had done their job, and that he would see them all next week. Afterwards there would always be a couple of women hanging around to ask questions, and he would stop a few on their way out to compliment their improvements. When the rest of the women had left, Sophie walked up to Harry, Y/N following closely behind.

"Great class, Styles. Thanks for teaching me some ass kicking again." She teased, smiling at him before she took a sip from her water bottle.  Harry chuckled, shaking his head faintly.

"Glad you liked it." He turned to Y/N. "What about you?"

Her cheeks started heating up, mouth falling open ever so slightly. "M— me? Oh, uhm, yeah, pretty good."

"I'm going to use the bathroom really quick, I'll be right back." Sophie chimed in, and began walking towards the door. "Keep her company for me, will ya Styles?"

Harry almost laughed at how Y/N's eyes nearly popped out of her sockets at Sophie's announcement. She was nervous around him, and it was quite endearing, but she didn't need to be. Although it was very cute, Harry wanted her to be comfortable around her.

"You hated it, didn't you?" He said as soon as Sophie was out of sight. Harry was amused, watching Y/N scramble for words when she realized what he had said.

"What? No, no of course not! You're great! Teacher— you're a great teacher, I mean." She stumbled over every last one of her words, making it sound even less convincing than it already was, even though she did really mean it.

Harry solely raised his eyebrow, indicating that he did not buy any of that, and it was all it took for her shoulders to slump and a little sigh to leave those pretty lips of hers.

"It's really not you, I promise. I just get... a bit nervous in group settings, especially when it comes to sports. I don't even go to the gym." She confessed, and Harry nodded. That certainly made more sense. His heart warmed a bit at the fact that she reassured him that he wasn't the reason she wasn't liking the class all too much.

"Why don't you go to the gym?" Harry asked further, his tone soft. He didn't want to press too much, but he did want to know more about her.

"It's... embarrassing." She shrugged. Harry chuckled.

"I go to the gym all the time. I mean, I own this one. I can only imagine how embarrassing I must be."  He joked. He had to say he thought it was pretty funny, the way she blushed as he teased her.

"No, I didn't mean it like that! You're not embarrassing at all— I mean, you’re like the opposite. You're lean, and strong. You have like— big arms and you know what you're doing." She ranted, and had no idea how much Harry's ego was fueled by the compliments she was unknowingly throwing at him. "Whereas I— I have no idea what to do at a gym. I hate the idea of people being able to watch me and judge me if they want. Not that I think everyone's focusing on me all the time! I— I don't think that..."

Y/N's heart was racing as she finally got herself to stop talking. It was a nervous habit she had always possessed. As soon as something got awkward, her mouth would open and it would just never shut again. All communication skills flew out the window as soon as something — or in this case someone — made her nervous. She couldn't even remember half the words she just said.

"I can teach you, if you want."

The offer was as unexpected to Y/N as it was to Harry. He hadn't quite anticipated the words rolling off his tongue, but he didn't regret them either.

"It'll be a private class, and it can be in a closed room, like this one, or after closing time. Whatever suits you." Harry tried his hardest to sound casual, and not like what he was offering was something he literally never did. He had to hire a cleaner at home because he was too busy to get around to cleaning the house, that's how much he had to do. But the prospect of losing even more free time did not seem to bother him at all. In fact, he hoped Y/N would take him up on his offer as he scanned her face and waited for her to say something.

"No, I wouldn't want to ask that of you. I'm sure you're busy with a lot of other things." She declined politely, but he didn't miss the glimmer of hope in her eyes. Those private classes had sounded intriguing to her, he just knew it. So instead of accepting her rejection, he shrugged.

"How about this. I'm always in till late on Tuesday's. If you're sure you don't want private lessons, that's fine. But if it does sound like something you want to do, just be there at 9. I'll be there either way." Harry suggested. He didn't wait for a response — hearing Sophie's footsteps nearing — and instead said,

"Just think about it, alright?"

Y/N merely nodded, not even able to croak out a 'yes' before Sophie walked back into the room.

"Okay, I'm ready to go. Y/N?" Sophie asked, watching as her friend agreed and grabbed her things before walking towards the door where Sophie stood.

"Thanks for the class." Y/N turned around and smiled at Harry, throwing him a small wave as she started following Sophie out the door.

"Anytime." He winked at her.

"Bye Styles!" Sophie shouted, her keys clinking as she waved at Harry, behind her.

"Bye Soph." Harry called out, his eyes still transfixed on the girl behind his friend.

He didn't take her eyes off her as they walked towards the exit, taking in every detail of her delicate body as she moved further and further away from him. She was painstakingly beautiful. How had she just walked in? As soon as the girls disappeared behind the door, Harry let out a big sigh.

"Fuck." He murmured under his breath.

He really hoped Y/N would take him up on his offer. Harry had very quickly and very suddenly developed this intense need to help the girl, and that couldn't mean anything good.

Maybe he'd never see her again. She did sound very unsure. Besides, who said that she even wanted to go to this class? For all Harry knew, Sophie could've just used her manipulative convincing tricks, and Y/N, the polite angel she was, would've felt too bad to decline. Maybe, she thought he was an ass and didn't want anything to do with him.

In spite of the countless theories flying through his head, he knew that she wanted it. He had seen it in her eyes. She did really want to join the class, she was simply too nervous. But whether she would take him up on the offer, that was the question. He'd have to wait until the following week.

Y/N never thought life after university would be like this. When she first pursued her bachelors in business degree, she had dreamt of a future where right after graduation, she’d be offered all these hot-shot jobs and she’d go on to become a big, powerful business woman. Some might think this dream of hers was far-fetched and unrealistic, but when you graduate from a highly prestigious university, first class with honours, well, it’s at least a little bit fair to have such expectations.

She worked her ass off when she was still in school— nailing every exam and assignment, doing summer internships and for a moment she thought about applying for a masters degree, but that was quickly shot down when Y/N checked in on her accruing student debt. She might pursue it some time down the road, but for now, her main goal was to get out of this shit-hole of a cafe where she worked and get her ass to a big firm, just like she was promised by all the career counsellors at university.

She was applying consistently to a million different firms, and at this point, she’d be happy if she could even be a receptionist at one of them. She had exhausted all of her connections made in university in hopes of anyone linking her to a decent job, but she turned up with no luck as of yet.

She had been working at Bluebird cafe all throughout her degree and she was working there even now, seven months post graduating. Disappointment welled deep in her guts every time she saw herself in that same old uniform and cap, greeting the same customers and making do with the same lousy cheque.

It was another dreadful morning at said cafe when Y/N was preparing a humongous order for at least twenty six people. She assumed it was for an office or corporation, judging by the jittery young man who placed the order at the counter. He read carefully off a piece of paper every single order and made Y/N recite it back to him to ensure the drinks were perfect. He ended up handing the paper to Y/N so she could once again make sure everything was according to the requests, and it was on the paper Y/N recognised the prestigious navy logo stamped on the top right.

Grapejuice Inc.

One of the biggest textile corporations in the world, run by the famous Styles’ family. Y/N could only dream of a job there. It was suddenly understandable why the young man was nervous before her. The drinks must probably be for a big, senior meeting or something. 

Y/N took her time perfecting them, writing the details of each order on the cups to make it easier for the man to allocate them. She slowly placed them in six separate paper cartons, stacking them on top of each other carefully. The man sighed graciously and took the bag from her hand ever so slowly before walking out of the cafe. She sighed, wiping her hands on her black apron. Behind her, Niall enthused out loud, “how much d’ya think they pay the poor boy to get ‘em their morning drinks?”

Y/N turned to face him, watching him rinse out the alternate milk blender, “probably thousands. It’s a huge company.” Niall hummed, “maybe. But usually such prissies have a hard time paying their employees well.”

Y/N was distracted by an order that pinged on their little UberEats tablet, and started prepping the two drinks and almond croissant. She hummed at his response. “Prissies or not, they’re one of the most influential corporations in the world.”

Niall nudged her shoulder and smirked, “don’t go around licking their asses already. They haven’t hired ya yet.”

”Ha. Let’s all make fun of my inability to find a proper job, now,” she mumbled sarcastically. She took her anger out on the oven door, slamming it shut after she put the croissant in there to warm up. Niall wiped his hands on a towel and rubbed them up and down her arms, comforting her, “hey c’mon, babe,” he said gently, noticing her frustrated frown. Seeing that man working for such an amazing corporation made her slightly jealous. It was a sour, unpleasant feeling which Y/N hated. Niall pulled her into his chest in the empty cafe, save for another employee, Mina, who wiped down the tables.

”They’re missing out on the biggest brain in the city,” he flicked her cap playfully, “the right job will come along, I know it. Don’t worry your pretty head over it.”

Y/N appreciated the comfort, leaning into him. She was grateful for his presence, and for his reassuring touch that grounded her. He pulled back and pinched her cheek playfully, “cheer up, buttercup. We’ve got lattes to make for abusive boomers!”

Y/N sighed. She only prayed that Niall's previous words had some truth to them. 

-

That night when she got home, Y/N followed her usual routine of feeding her cat Pebble and then turning the shower on, waiting for it to warm up. In the meantime she prepped for dinner and picked out her pyjamas. Once she was all showered and fed, she climbed into bed and pulled out her laptop to do her nightly job search. Numerous sites were searched, Linkedin was scowered and her CV was passed around like a blunt at a party.

She might have applied for a position at Grapejuice Inc, in her sleep-driven haze. It might have been an assistant position for one of their senior management… could have been the Secretary… or the CEO. She doesn’t remember, as she passed out in front of her computer screen, the light glowing and illuminating her peaceful features.

-

When Y/N was in high school many years ago, she met a boy named Landon. They were both in the same Art History class, and the teacher paired them up for a project where they had to analyse and present on a popular period piece. She ended up spending long hours with him during the week, and Y/N being the hormonal teenage girl she was, fell for Landon’s shaggy blonde hair and toothy grin. He was sweet and caring, taller than her and called Y/N ‘sweets’ and four months after they first met, he asked her to be his girlfriend and took her out on her first date.

Landon had taken most of her firsts. He was the only boyfriend she ever had and the only person she ever kissed, but that was it. They never did anything beyond that. The most they ever dabbled in was maybe a hand on her ass or slipping under her shirt to touch her tummy while they made out, but it was never anything more. Y/N blamed the distance for that.

After high school, both Y/N and Landon had big dreams for university. They both wanted to go to one of the big schools, but the problem was that the one Y/N wanted to go to was ten hours away from the one Landon got into. Education was something that was important to both of them, so compromising it for the sake of their relationship was out of the question. They decided to make do with the distance and promised to each other they would remain loyal despite the land that separated them.

It was hard at times, especially in university when all of Y/N’s friends were able to go out and bring whoever they wanted home, date different people and have new experiences while she sat feeling lame because she missed her boyfriend. They still made an effort to try and see each other— oftentimes during semester breaks Y/N would visit Landon and Landon would try to visit Y/N. It was those fleeting days that kept Y/N sane during the course of their relationship.

She spoke to him everyday still, texting him little updates of her day, and he’d text her his. They called every couple of days, though they were pretty short since they were out of words to say thanks to their texts. 

Y/N knew that Landon was currently working at his new job as a junior editor after he graduated with his English degree. She was happy for him, of course, but his new commitment meant she was hearing less and less from him. Although there were the daily ‘good morning’ and ‘good night’ texts, these days she was seldom seeing those as well.

It was her day off today, a quiet Tuesday afternoon where Y/N decided to go to the farmers market a little ways from her apartment. She was sitting down at a small restaurant, a cold drink battling the summer heat resting in her hand, but her attention was somewhere else. Her lip was abused under her teeth as she typed up a message to Landon. She missed talking to him, and was penning all her frustrations and thoughts in a long paragraph when she was interrupted by her phone ringing.

The phone number was unfamiliar, making Y/N’s eyebrows furrow. She answered it cautiously. “Hello?”

”Good morning, am I speaking with Miss Y/N L/N?”

Confusion crept upon her. “Yes, this is her.”

”Hi, Miss L/N. This is Mitch Rowland calling from Grapejuice Inc, how are you today?”

Now that rendered Y/N speechless. Her heart dropped and her mouth fell open in surprise. The sound of a child shouting nearby shook her from her thoughts as she regained her consciousness and straightened up, “I’m well, how are you?”

”Pretty alright. Listen, we saw your application for senior assistant to the Chief Executive Officer and loved your CV. How are you placed for an interview sometime this week? Say, Thursday at nine?”

Y/N could not believe the words she was hearing through the phone. She wanted to scream and dance and hug this Mitch guy all at the same time. Her cheeks heated up and a big smile spread across her face, “yes! Thank you for calling me, of course, Thursday at nine is perfect.”

”Great! I’ll text you the address. You can come straight to the reception. Sheila will have your name and will let you through to the interview room. I look forward to meeting you.”

Y/N wished him a confident ‘me too’ and said goodbye, her heart still racing. She took a moment to bask in the reality of the situation. It felt so surreal— Y/N only ever dreamed of getting to work in such an amazing corporation, that too at such an amazing position. 

Suddenly, the sun wasn’t harsh like before and her drink was sweeter. The chatter of children nearby made her feel peaceful instead of irritated. She didn’t even find it in herself to care about Landon’s lack of communication as she excitedly dialled Niall’s phone and screamed the news into his unsuspecting ear. An unfamiliar sense of hope filled her heart. Maybe things would finally start to look up for Y/N.

-

The two days leading up to Thursday were the longest ever. Y/N was nervous and excited at the same time, jittery while she was at the cafe serving customers. Niall hyped Y/N up, mumbled a million ‘I told you so’s and tried to ease her nerves when she went on and on about what she should say at the interview.

She asked Mina to cover her Thursday morning shift and ran to the mall the night before to browse for a new blazer, wanting to dress professional but also cute. It was also a million degrees out, so she would probably only wear the blazer indoors for an hour or two, depending on how long the interview was.

She still hadn’t texted Landon about it. Maybe once the job was secured she would, but she didn’t want to get his hopes up just to shatter them if things somehow did not work out.

The morning of, Y/N was too nauseous to eat anything. She usually got that way when she was nervous or anticipating something, so her lack of appetite didn’t come as a shock. The top she wore clung to her body nicely, a light pink colour which matched the kitten heels she had on. The blazer and skirt were of the same dark grey colour, complementing each other nicely. She felt pretty with her hair done neatly and makeup light. Hopefully she made a good impression on Mitch and whoever she met.

Driving to the office was somewhat of a dream. Y/N never thought she would be in this position, especially with how things were looking the past few months. Constant disappointment almost rendered her hopeless, but she was proud of herself for sticking through it. Now, she prayed that she got the job and could finally stand on her own feet, with a job she rightfully earned. She felt giddy thinking about what it would be like if she got the job. She would hand in her notice to the cafe immediately. Then she’d call her mum and Landon. They would be so happy for her, she just knew it.

The place was gigantic— an intimidating building that loomed over her jittery body. Y/N stared up at it. It had to be at least forty storeys. She took a deep breath and mustered up the courage to walk in, a smile gracing her features. Following Mitch’s instructions, Y/N went straight up to the lavish reception and caught Sheila’s attention. Sheila, who was gorgeous; long brown hair cascading down her back, and adorned in a baby blue dress. She flashed Y/N a friendly smile. “Hi! How can I help?”

”Hi, my name’s Y/N. I’m here for an interview. Mitch called me,” Y/N said. a look of recognition came across Sheila’s face as she grinned, “of course. It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. Just follow me through here.” Grapejuice Inc was just as grand on the inside as it was on the outside— immaculate architecture and wide, open spaces. There were large windows on all walls allowing sunlight to filter into the space, brightening up the area. Y/N followed Sheila to the elevator, “it’s the twenty second floor, fourth door to your right,” she informed Y/N easily. 

Doing as she was told, Y/N soon found herself outside of a large room with double doors. The hallway she was standing in was mostly empty, littered with artwork on both sides. It felt like no one was even on the floor, silence flooding the area. As soon she thought about knocking on the doors, they swung open and she was met with a tall, brunette man. 

He had long hair which was tied back neatly, and he smiled warmly at Y/N, “you must be Y/N,” he said, “my name’s Mitch. We spoke on the phone a couple of days ago.”

Y/N grinned and held out her hand, “right. Nice to meet you in person.” His handshake was solid— professional and perfected as he guided her into the room. It was a large room with a long conference table in the middle. On one side a bunch of papers were scattered. That was probably where Mitch was sitting. He motioned for her to take a seat across from him. A jug of water rested on the table along with a paper and pen. Y/N bit her nails into her palm to ground herself.

“Sorry about the mess. I’ve been doing these interviews all morning,” he started sheepishly. Y/N waved him away, “that’s okay. Don’t have to apologise.” Mitch cleared his throat, “let’s get started then…”

-

The interview ran for about an hour and a half. Y/N felt like Mitch was eating away at her brain, throwing a million questions at her at such a fast rate. She tried her best to answer diligently, taking her time to really think through what he was saying to give the best possible response. Y/N knew such opportunities were hard to come by, and she wanted to make the best of it.

The job he was describing was mostly administration stuff; keeping track of the CEO, Mr. Styles’, meetings, planning his trips, scheduling, filing, invoicing, organising. All the things she had mastered at school and during her internships. Mitch wanted Y/N to meet Mr. Styles in person, but he was away for a business conference in Japan. 

“Well, all I can say right now is that I’m really glad I called you, Miss L/N,” he said, resting his hands on the table, “this has been great.”

Y/N felt her face heating and smiled gingerly, “thank you.” 

“I know we spoke about this plenty, but keep this job description,” Mitch slid a piece of paper her way across the table, “feel free to familiarise yourself with it. I’ll have a chat with the team and let you know about the outcome of this interview latest by Monday.” He got up and held the door open for her, “thanks for coming in.”

Y/N shook his hand again and bid him goodbye, giddy as she walked out of the interview room and into the elevator. The sheet of paper was clutched between her fingers and she let out a deep breath. Although the interview was tiring, she was feeling hopeful about the job. Mitch was great and helpful, answering all of her questions easily and explaining the role to her in depth. She waved goodbye to Sheila and made her way out of the building, and when she was finally in the confines of her car, she squealed to herself; everything was slowly falling into place, and she couldn’t be more grateful.

-

Friday at three PM Y/N was at the cafe, mindlessly wiping down the counter. A startled Niall walked in from the back, “Y/N your phone was ringing. T’was an unknown number but I think they left an email or something.”

Y/N turned around in confusion. She saw as Niall stared down at her illuminating screen and tried to take her phone from him, “what? Who is it?” He furrowed his eyebrows, “it’s from someone called Mitch Rowland. I think… I think you got the job.” Her eyes widened, “you’re joking. Show me.”

He passed her the phone, and there it was. An email from Mitch. She read it over and over and over. Tears brimmed in her eyes as she realised she wasn’t dreaming. Y/N was going to be working at Grapejuice Inc. They wanted her as soon as possible. 

Niall saw her dazed face and squeezed her tightly, his arms near suffocating her, “I told you! I knew you could do it, so fucking smart you are,” he kissed her hair, “I’m so happy for you, pet. They’re gonna love you.” She peeled back from his chest and looked at him with her tear-soaked face, “I can’t believe this is actually happening,” she laughed in disbelief, “this whole thing feels like a dream.”

-

If Harry didn’t know any better, he could probably be convinced that this was what heaven felt like.

The way he jabbed into the back of the pretty girl’s throat had him throwing his head back and moaning uncontrollably, and he felt like an angel was personally taking his hand and leading him to eden. His palm came down on the kitchen counter in front of him, the other hand weaving into her hair to pull her further on his cock, “oh, fuck me.” The girl beneath him, Sophie, gagged around him loudly and then popped off of him, strings of her saliva connecting her to him. She smirked up at him, twisting her hand over his length as she gave her mouth a break.

“Yeah? You like the way I suck your di—”

He didn’t bother to hear the end of her poorly executed attempt at dirty talk and groaned, shoving her back on his cock. The action took her by surprise, and a wet filthy sound came from her throat as she swallowed around him desperately. Harry whimpered a little, head falling back on his shoulders. He held her there for about twenty seconds, throbbing in her mouth and letting his hair tickle her nose. When he saw tears prickle in her eyes, he decided to let her off for a bit. He loosened his grip on her hair and opted to softly scratch his nails against her scalp as she returned to bobbing her head. 

It didn’t take much longer after that to make him come, a train of curses falling from his mouth as he held onto the counter tightly and whined, “fuck, fuck— Sophie, fu—” Hot, white ropes of his come spilled into her mouth which she took in willingly, eyes screwed shut and tongue out. He came for a while, and he came a lot; some of it dripping down the side of her mouth and on her chin. When he was finally done, his hand in her hair slipped to her jaw which he held tightly, prying her lips open.

Harry let a glob of his spit fall into her mouth, mixing in with his come on the well of her tongue. Sophie whined highly as he did, and moaned when Harry slapped her right cheek, soft enough that it didn’t seriously hurt her but hard enough that the zap went straight to her clit. He pushed her cheeks together and closed her mouth, “swallow.”

She did so obediently, before Harry backed up and let her stand to her full height. His eyes raked shamelessly over her figure, adorned in nothing but his office button up, legs bare and chin spit-slicked. Her blonde locks were a mess as she put her hands on his chest and giggled, “did you like that?”

Harry pulled her wrists off and thumbed at her cheek, “mhmm. I have to go to work,” he told her. Sophie pouted, “can’t you take one day off? You must be so tired after such a long flight…,” she ran her clean hand through his curls, “don’t go today? For me?”

He could have laughed in her face for that. If she thought she was anything more than an easy fuck for him, she was sorely mistaken. It didn’t matter that he had known her for over a year now— Harry didn’t date or commit. He hadn’t for a couple of years now. One night stands and fuck-buddies were more than enough to satiate his needs.

Sophie frowned when he stepped away from her and pulled his pyjama pants back up over his hips. He sighed, “I can’t stay, Sophie, I’ve a company to run.” She huffed and stomped her foot like a child, “but I missed you so much, H.” Her voice was nasally, suddenly annoying him to no end, especially when she tried to wrap her arms around him again. Harry dodged her and picked up his phone instead. “This was nice, Soph, but you have to go. I’ll call you a car and have Jared drop you off,” he patted her hip, “talk soon.”

He didn’t wait to hear her response and slipped upstairs to his large bedroom, shutting and locking the door in case she tried to follow him up. He really was tired and jet-lagged after the twelve hour flight. A couple of days off might do him some good, but as much as he hated to admit it, he was a workaholic who would choose a productive day at the office over a day off ninety percent of the time. He took a quick shower and got dressed, tugging on a crisp, dry-cleaned navy blue suit. His eyes flitted about his room as he sprayed on some cologne.

The sheets were awry and there were silk ties hanging off his headboard. Memories of the past night flooded his mind as he put on his cuff-links and gelled his hair. The way she felt around him, wet and soft, gushing on his cock. The way she tasted and writhed beneath him, coming over and over until Harry had to tie her down and force her to take what he gave her. Fucking her over and over again, bruise marks on her round ass, a warm mouth wrapped around his cock. It really was a lot of fun. 

After making sure he had his phone and wallet, Harry rushed down the stairs and was glad to see that Sophie had left. At least he was safe from another awkward goodbye where she would whine about her feelings for him and he would have to let her down gently. She kept saying Harry was leading her on, but he didn’t see how.

He told Sophie from the beginning that he only wanted sex and she was fine with it. The first time she alluded to any sort of feelings, Harry told her he wasn’t interested in that way. She was hurt and she cried a bit, (which was Harry’s worst nightmare because he really had no idea how to react in situations like that), but she still showed up the next time he called her. He just assumed she was over him. Harry was a huge perfectionist, and if he wanted a relationship, he would have to put a lot of time and effort into it for it to be the sort he was looking for; time that he unfortunately did not have, since he was so busy making sure Grapejuice Inc ran smoothly. 

As he left, he made sure to leave a note on his fridge for his cleaner letting her know that his sheets needed changing and the clothes on the floor needed to be dry cleaned. He put down what he wanted the chef to meal-prep for and called the elevator to go down to his car. He lived in the top floor penthouse apartment of a luxury accommodation in the middle of the city— a location which was convenient for him in more ways than one. It was close to where he worked, and he enjoyed the hustle and bustle of the city below him. The large windows in his place were his favourite since he could people-watch all he wanted (and he enjoyed the occasional fuck against it when it was dark enough).

He greeted Tomas, his driver, as he pulled the door open and let Harry into the car. They made small talk and Harry asked Tomas about his son who just started high school and his wife who was battling an illness. Tomas was Harry’s father’s driver as well, and he watched Harry grow up in front of him. He would drive Harry to daycare when he was a baby, soccer practice when he was a schoolboy, concerts when he was a teenager and now here he was, driving him to the same office he used to drive his father to. Harry felt oddly connected to Tomas, and couldn’t let him go no matter how much his age persisted.

They reached the building pretty quick and Harry thanked Tomas as he stepped out. Sheila smiled and greeted him as he walked in, and every cubicle he passed on his way to the elevator mumbled a ‘good morning, Sir.’

He made the familiar walk to his office, hand stuffed into his pocket and phone secure between his fingers. The lights were on, from what he could see from the outside, and the blurred glass made way for a figure standing right by his desk. Confusion lurked in Harry’s head as he wondered who could possibly be in his office without his permission. Without a second thought, he threw the door open and walked right in, “who are you?”

His voice was gruff and cold, a complete opposite to the sugary sight before him. Stood by his desk was a girl— a very pretty one, in fact. Big, round eyes looked at him, resembling a deer, and a plush mouth was left agape as she eyed him up and down. She was wearing a sweet ensemble; a pretty pastel blue dress that fell just past mid-thigh and had a tiny slit on it. Her hair was swept back over her neck, tamed and neat, perfect for an office atmosphere. 

He lingered his gaze on her as she straightened up from where she was bent over his desk and cleared her throat, “hi, Mr. Styles, it’s nice to finally meet you,” she extended a hand for him to shake, “I’m Y/N. Your new assistant.” The slight rise and fall of her chest gave her nerves away but her eye-contact never faltered. Her hand was warm and soft when he took it, and only then did the last-minute text from Mitch come back to him. 

By the way, you’ve got a new assistant starting this week. Be nice to her.

This was her. Of course. He gave her a firm handshake, “Harry.”

She smiled at him softly, a strand of her hair falling over her eye. Harry itched to tuck it behind her ear, maybe feel how soft her skin might be under her jaw, but he refrained. “I was just sorting out some of your files. I know you’ve been away so I—”

“What did you touch?”

He spoke sharply, eyebrows furrowed as he set his phone down on his desk and sat on his chair. “Just the documents in the filing drawers. I didn’t touch your desk, don’t worry.” Harry hummed. He watched as she stood in the middle of the room, twiddling her hands behind her back, “I… I colour coded and arranged them alphabetically. Cleaned up your schedule and added the reminders feature to your Teams as well,” she trailed off. She took his silence as her queue to continue. “I also re-recorded your voicemail for the phone and—”

“You can clean whatever you want, just don’t touch my desk. I take my coffee at nine, black, no milk and no sugar. Nine-fifteen, you’ll be in my office with my schedule. You will take orders from me and me only, and I should not have to buzz you twice if I need to see you. You’re off when I say you’re off, and don’t worry about lunch breaks, I tend to have them outside.”

He explained all this sternly, eyes sturdy and fixated on her. She let out a quiet breath and nodded, firm, “Noted. I’ll…” she glanced at the clock above his head. 8:47AM. “I’ll go and get your coffee, sir.”

With that, she smiled once again and scurried out of the room. Harry could tell she was a sweet little thing, just eager to please. Maybe it would be nice to have a pretty face in the office. His days might become less dull. He knew she was getting paid a lot for this job as his assistant, so he had a lot of expectations from her too. Hopefully she could bring a little warmth to his frigid reputation.

-

As the days passed with Y/N acting as Harry’s senior assistant, he had come to realise she executed the role much better than most of his previous assistants. The instructions he gave to her on the first day she seemed to have tattooed on her heart, and she stuck to them diligently. His coffee was at his desk everyday at nine sharp, she had a printed schedule she would read to him and then leave with him once she was done, she would organise some new cabinet of his or folder in his emails everyday and she was on top of his meetings and notes. Harry thought he might have to take Mitch out for a drink or something for managing to hire such an efficient assistant for him. 

On top of all that, she had a pretty face which Harry occasionally enjoyed to ogle at. Though he wasn’t one to mix business and pleasure, he figured a little eye-candy never hurt anyone. It was not like he would ever act upon it, no matter how badly he wanted to bend her over his desk and fuck the life out of her.

Today was one such day as she came in wearing a tiny little red dress and matching heels. It was like she walked right out of a hot office fantasy, pencil in her hair and glasses on her nose. She was wearing a blazer on top earlier, but she took it off soon after arriving at work.

When she was reading out his schedule and setting his coffee on his desk, Harry struggled to not stare shamelessly at her figure which filled out the dress just perfectly. A few minutes in, she dropped a pencil on the floor and Harry felt like a teenage boy seeing boobs for the first time as she bent to pick it up. 

Unsurprisingly, her pretty face didn’t go unnoticed by many. He realised that when they went into the monthly Senior Leadership Team meeting today, and most of the managers and team directors said hello to her tits first and then her face. It wasn’t even like the dress was provocative in any way— it was summer and a gazillion degrees out, Harry didn’t expect her to walk in wearing a wool jumper and sweats. Plus, the dress did cover most of her skin, it was just her legs that were bare, and that was only a little before her knees. Although Harry did think she was gorgeous (particularly today) he didn’t stare so blatantly and deliberately make her uncomfortable. 

Once they said their greetings to everyone, Y/N settled in next to Harry with her notebook and pen on the table before her. He could smell her since she was right beside him, warm vanilla and caramel, a sweet scent that could put him to sleep. She was really testing him today, and the worst part was that Harry didn’t think she knew she even had that effect on him and almost everyone she met.

 She asked him if he was okay when he didn’t move for a bit, to which Harry clenched his jaw and nodded tightly. Willing away his scandalous thoughts, Harry cleared his throat and pulled open the meeting notes Y/N prepared for him beforehand, “I hope you’re all having a good morning,” he looked around the room, “we’ve got a couple of important things to go over today, so make sure you’ve got your ears open. I need fresh ideas on the table…”

He listed off the BAU for the week and they went around the table to hear monthly updates from each of the department heads. Y/N penned every important detail vigorously with her lip between her teeth, but one particular discussion had her ears perking up. “I think it’s better if we stick to our suppliers in China and Bangladesh. It’s cost efficient and we’re meeting all of our KPIs,”  one of the team members spoke up. Harry watched as another retorted, “I understand that it’s cost efficient, but we have to draft our yearly financial report in two months where we have to talk about our suppliers and sustainability. Large shipments of textiles every year is anything but.”

Next to him, he could feel Y/N’s nervousness wafting off in waves as she sat up straight and cleared her throat. Her soft voice quietly followed, “I… I think we can try switching to internal suppliers instead of external,” she glanced around the room looking for reassurance and settled her eyes on Harry who nodded at her. Although it wasn’t in her exact line of work to advise on this matter, she was still a valued member of the team who brought new input to the company. She continued, “it would be good for our brand image and we won’t have to fabricate our annual report. It’ll be ethical and sustainable, and that’s what consumers are looking for nowadays. We can even market it a—”

“Who are you?” Jerry, one of the team heads, suddenly cut her off. His eyes dug daggers into hers as he raised his brows. Y/N stuttered, “Y/N…I—I’m Mr. Styles’ senior assistant. I just had a few ide—”

“Save it,” he raised his palm, dismissing her thought, “I was thin—”

Harry’s loud voice cut Jerry off, “I believe Miss L/N was saying something before you so rudely interrupted her, Jerry. I do not permit anyone but me to give orders to any of my personal staff. Next time, I suggest you learn how to respect your peers in a meeting before walking into an esteemed room such as this.”

Y/N’s chest rose and fell nervously as she watched the exchange with wide eyes. Jerry immediately dropped his shoulders and darted his eyes away from both Harry and Y/N, now looking down at his notebook, “apologies, Mr. Styles.”

“Don’t apologise to me. Apologise to her.”

Now it was Jerry’s turn to have wide eyes as he looked at Y/N, “but she’s a—”

“We don’t have a lot of time here.”

A few moments passed as Y/N twiddled with her hands and looked at Harry before looking back at Jerry who didn’t meet her eyes as he quietly mumbled, “sorry.” She smiled softly. “It’s okay.” Harry could feel the heat radiating off of her; her face had gone pink and she was squirmy under the attention of the whole meeting room. He decided to close the chapter, “good. Keep these etiquettes in mind next time you walk into another meeting. Y/N, draft your initiative and send it to Analytics. I want to see the pros and cons of switching to internal suppliers by next week. You’re all dismissed.”

-

The whole exchange at the meeting had Y/N’s heart beating like crazy as they left the conference room. “Are you okay?” Harry checked in on her as they walked to his office. “Yep.”

She didn’t want to bother Harry with her anxious thoughts and worry him more than he already was as a CEO of such a big company. Her heart was still racing, “I’m gonna go for a quick walk,” she told Harry before grabbing her phone and heading to the elevators. Hopefully a little fresh air would do her some good. As she stepped outside into the bustling city, she took a deep breath and began walking to the courtyard where there was a big water fountain. She liked sitting by it and hearing the pitter-patter of the water. Her phone pinged when she sat down. It was Landon. The notification made her heart drop just slightly. Ever since she told him about her new job, he had been very distant. There was an initial excitement, but then he asked her how much she was getting paid. That’s when things went downhill. Grapejuice Inc was a big firm, and she had an important position. Her bank account was going to fatten up a little, but his reaction just had her a little disappointed.

Plus he kept asking her all these questions about the people she worked with, and not in a cool, interesting way. It was very stalker-ish and accusatory. She didn’t like it one bit. With a sigh, she ignored the message and shut her eyes, feeling the breeze against her face and trying to forget what happened in the meeting today.

-

About a week later, Y/N finally began feeling more comfortable in her role. She was getting to know Harry’s needs better and better as the days passed, and she tried her best to exceed his expectations as much as she could. Ever since he stood up for her in the meeting, she felt like she owed him that at least. It had been a long week at the office, with Harry slipping in and out of meetings which Y/N had to join him for, so she was particularly happy today as the week ended and the weekend approached.

She set her stuff down on her desk when they walked out of the last meeting of the week, “I’m just gonna get a coffee really quick. Did you want anything?” Harry was distracted by his phone, his eyes never straying as he walked past her.

“I’m alright, thanks,” he replied. Once he was in the confines in his office, Y/N let out a deep breath. Her hands slid down her skirt as she made her way to the office kitchen on the third floor, walking in to see a handful of people heating up lunches and waiting for the coffee machine. She reached up to get a cup and was startled when she suddenly felt a presence behind her. 

A very unladylike yelp left her mouth as she turned to see the same guy she saw at Bluebird cafe a couple of weeks ago. “I’m so sorry, I didn't mean to startle you!” 

She held a hand to her chest and closed her eyes, a long breath escaping her lips, “you scared the living daylights out of me.” The man chuckled and backed up giving her space to lean back against the counter. “Sorry… though the sound you made was quite funny.” Y/N rolled her eyes and faked a dry laugh.

He grinned as he looked at her, before she saw his eyes narrowing, “wait, you’re the girl from the cafe a while ago. You made those twenty six drinks for the annual conference.” Y/N watched as realisation dawned upon him and he examined her like she was a bug under a microscope, “yeah. I remember you, mister so-nervous-I’m-shaking.”  She watched as his cheeks turned pink. He looked down, making his dark hair flop over his forehead, “yeah. It was a big meeting, but they all really liked the drinks, so thank you for that.” It was then Y/N noticed how tall he was, towering over her with his brown eyes peering down at her.

“No problem. It was kind of my job at the time so…” Y/N turned to use the coffee machine, leaving him still blushing and staring at his shoes. She followed the prompts on the machine until her desired coffee poured out of the snout. “You’re Mr. Styles’ new assistant aren’t you?” He asked from behind her. Y/N hummed and nodded. “What’s your name?”

He giggled again, “oh right. I totally forgot to introduce myself. I’m Logan, I’m an administration coordinator.” Logan held out a hand for her to shake which she took, smiling, “nice to meet you, Logan. I’m Y/N.”

“I heard about what happened in the meeting last week,” this had Y/N turning around fully to look at him, an eyebrow raised, “word travels surprisingly fast in an office like this.”

“Oh.” She didn’t know what he expected her to say after making that statement. She kind of hated that the first thing he associated her job title to was the speck of drama that went down in the meeting. Her heart hurt a little— she wanted to be recognised for more than just some petty spectacle.

Next to Y/N, another girl stood by the second coffee machine. She must have been listening to their conversation because she spoke up first, “we all heard what happened. Not gonna lie, it was a little bit shocking to hear that Mr. Styles told Jerry off  for talking down to an assistant. He usually loves Jerry.”

Y/N’s lips parted, “he didn’t tell anyone off, he just… told him to somtimes let other people have the floor in meetings. It’s common manners.”

The girl smirked, “Mr. Styles doesn’t do that for just anyone. He’s very… cold.” Y/N furrowed her brows, “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say to me.” The blonde only scoffed and flicked her hair over her shoulder, “oh, I think it’s very clear what I’m trying to say. One doesn’t just score a job like yours and become Mr. Styles’ favourite little pet,” she raked her eyes up and down Y/N’s body, “compensation has to be… paid, somehow.”

What she was implying had Y/N’s stomach churning. Not only did she feel utterly disgusted at such an accusation, but she was hurt beyond belief. The words were disrespectful and not true. Y/N did not work her ass off to get into Grapejuice Inc just for it to be reduced to nothing by some employee.

Just as she was going to retort back with something fiery, a deep voice beat her to it, “I hope this little party is about the new marketing strategy your team is implementing, Becca.” Y/N turned to see Harry standing in the doorway of the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest. The blonde girl— Becca’s eyes widened, “Mr. Styles! Yes, I was just asking Logan ab—”

“I hate a fibber.”

Becca stammered over her words. “Sorry, Mr. Styles. I was just getting back to my desk.”

“Good,” Harry said, stopping her in her tracks, “I also hate petty gossip, especially in my office. If I hear another word of false accusations about anyone from anyone’s mouth, you’ll be hearing from HR.”

Y/N raised her brows at his comment and saw how Logan passed her a look of surprise as well. Becca mumbled a ‘sorry’ and left the kitchen soon after, scurrying past Harry. He didn’t even spare a glance her way as he looked at Y/N. “Get back to work.” 

“Yes, Mr. Styles.” She told Logan goodbye before leaving the kitchen. Her coffee was clutched tightly in her hands the whole way to her desk as she wondered what the fuck her day had been.

-

It was later on the same day as Y/N sat at her desk with her head in her hands. She had a long tiring day running around in meetings and scheduling appointments for next week. Plus, Becca’s earlier comments still weighed heavy in her mind. The words affected her more than she would like to admit. On top of all of that, Landon was still being cold over text. He gave her one-word answers after leaving her on delivered for ages. She was wracking her brain trying to figure out why he was acting this way— was it jealousy? Or did he just miss her? She hoped it was the latter.

Her head was pounding and she glanced at the clock to see it was six PM. Way past her home time. She just had so much to do. The pressure got to her head as she dug her fingers into her scalp, trying to relieve some pain. Things only got worse when she felt tears prickle her eyes and spill past her waterline. She just felt so stupid.

She felt pathetic crying at her workplace and letting her tears stain her to-do list which was littered with a bunch of little tasks. Taking a few breaths to contain herself, she didn’t even notice when Harry stepped out of his office for a breather. Her sniffling caught his attention. “Miss L/N? What are you still doing here?”

She quickly wiped her tears and straightened up, “I was just finishing a few things up,” she mumbled. She kept her head low but Harry saw right through her. The whole building was dark and quiet as everyone had gone home. The only light on her desk was from her lamp. Harry leaned against it and looked down at Y/N. “Y/N,” he called her by her first name, “what’s wrong? Are you… are you crying?”

A dry chuckle left her mouth. Her wet eyes met his and his shoulders deflated. This was his nightmare situation. He was the worst at comforting people. His hips shifted nervously. “A—are you alright?”

“Clearly no.” She shook her head and looked down into her lap, cheeks heating up. Harry didn’t want to overstep any boundaries but he also couldn’t just leave her sobbing at her desk. “Do… you wanna talk about it?”

She shot him an incredulous look. Even if she did want to talk about it, her boss was not the ideal person. Y/N tried to dismiss him without hurting his feelings. “I’m fine, really,” she sniffled and wiped one more tear. Although Harry was terrible with emotions, he wasn’t an idiot. Clearly something was bothering her to the extent that she had to cry at her desk. He sighed, deciding to ask one more time, “are you sure?”

If it was him in her shoes, he’d probably tell the other person to fuck off and mind their own business, just because he was terrible at being vulnerable. But this was Y/N— sweet Y/N who brightened up his mornings with her pretty smile. He might not know her too well, but he knew she had a good heart.

A long breath escaped her nose as she shut her eyes and held a hand on her forehead, “I just… it’s just been a lot recently.”

Harry’s eyes widen, “is it the workload? You can tell m—”

“No! No, it’s not that. Things have been shaky in my personal life and I… I can’t stop thinking about this morning with Becca a—”

“Did she say something again?” He cut her off, stern. Y/N’s head snapped up, “not after you warned her, no. But before you came she said some nasty things which obviously weren’t true and I can’t get them out of my head. It’s stupid.”

She sniffled and Harry frowned. He heard the conversation just as he was approaching the kitchen. Becca’s words were sharp enough to hurt someone, especially someone as educated and well-performing as Y/N. Harry knew what it was like when people tried to blame your success on things like sex and connections, having been from a big family. Older CEOs and managers often under-estimated him, assuming he was where he was because of his family. That just wasn’t true. He worked really hard to be where he was. It wasn’t like his father made it easy on him.

He took a step closer and hesitantly put a hand on her shoulder. The touch was awkward but he wanted to offer her some form of comfort, “what she said was obviously not true,” he watched as she winced, realising he heard the conversation, “it shouldn’t matter what she says. Or what anyone says. You can’t get hung up on petty things like that if you want to go far in this line of work. People will always talk down and project their failures on you but you can’t let that get you. Unless you want to get walked all over.”

Y/N’s shoulder burned where he touched her, his palm almost electric. Physical touch was something she rarely got since Landon was so far away, and really, how clingy could she be with Niall before he got pissed? She took a deep breath and wiped her eyes, “yeah,” sniffle, “yeah. You’re right.”

Harry watched as she closed her eyes and composed herself. He slowly took his hand off of her, noticing how she deflated with… disappointment?

A few moments passed and he heard her tummy grumble loudly. The sound brought a small barely-there smile to his lips as she blushed furiously, “sorry, I—”

“Why are you apologising? For having normal human functions? Have you not eaten yet?”

Y/N shook her head, twiddling with her hands. Not only was she embarrassed that she cried in front of her boss, but her stomach’s loud protests had her all red. She didn’t have time to get lunch today since she was so busy, running on coffees all day. Harry sighed, “c’mon. We’ll go get something to eat.”

Her eyes widened, “wh–what?”

Harry raised his brows, “let’s go.”

She couldn’t say anything after that as Harry left to grab his coat and phone from his office. Y/N watched as he shrugged it on, admiring his biceps bulging against the button up. The soft, dim lighting of the area wasn’t making things any easier. He cleared his throat, snapping her out of her thoughts, “I’ve called for Tomas, my driver.”

Nodding, Y/N grabbed her purse and phone. They took the lift together. There was an odd tension as they stood silently, stealing glances at each other occasionally. Y/N played with her fingers in the oddly long ride, filling the silence by humming quietly. Harry smiled to himself upon hearing her.

When they reached, he led her out and towards the car Tomas brought out front. Tomas smiled at both of them and Y/N shook his hand. His stare lingered on her puffy eyes but he didn’t say anything. “I hope you like Italian,” Harry murmured. He opened the door and let her sit first and then followed. There was a whole seat empty between them where Y/N settled her purse. She still couldn’t process what was happening as she nodded at his words.

“La Vita Vino, please, Tomas.”

“Yes, sir.”

A couple of beats of silence passed. Harry’s face was illuminated by his phone as he scrolled. In the meantime, Y/N’s lip faced the wrath of her anxiety. She decided to speak up, “you really don’t have to do this, Mr. Styles. I—I’m very grateful but I hate putting you through so much troubl—”

“It’s no trouble.”

He shut his phone and glanced at her. Just the look had her skin burning. Y/N blamed the nerves.

“Okay.”

A car honked.

“Thanks though,” Y/N said.

“You’re welcome.”

The rest of the drive was silent. Y/N saw how Tomas spared glances at the two of them, eyes lingering on the empty seat between them. She might have seen him smile, but that could be her imagination. She was feeling quite out of it, especially after that cry.

They soon arrived at a beautiful restaurant. It had soft, yellow lighting and an outdoor patio. It was oddly romantic for a CEO-personal assistant dinner, but Y/N bit her tongue. Just the fact that he bothered to take her out meant so much to her. She didn’t want to ruin the moment with anything. She said thanks to Tomas as he held the door open for her.

When they walked in, Y/N couldn’t help but look around in awe. It had a gorgeous interior with intimate seating. She watched as Harry walked up to the hostess and requested his ‘regular’ table. The hostess smiled, “of course, Mr. Styles.”

Y/N saw as Harry followed the waitress, looking back at her, “c’mon.”

She was snapped out of her daze, allowing the hostess to lead them to a small table around the back. Thankfully it wasn’t candle-lit. That would make the dinner look like something it most definitely was not. The hostess pulled out a seat for Y/N and then Harry. “Can I get you started with some wine, sir?”

Harry glanced at Y/N, “any preferences?’

“Oh, I don’t drink,” she bit her lip. His brows dipped just slightly but he didn’t say anything. “I’ll have a serving of Masseto, please.”

“Of course, sir. Perhaps water for the missus?”

Y/N’s eyes almost shot out of her skull when she heard the hostess. She stammered over her words, “Oh, we—I’m not—”

“Yes, please.”

The hostess smiled and left, promising to come back with their drinks. As she left, Y/N turned to Harry, still flustered, ‘“sorry! I don’t know why she said that.” He looked at her like she was crazy, “why are you apologising?” He repeated for the second time that night, “it’s not like you told her to say that.”

Her mouth shut at that. She relaxed into the seat, still unable to meet his eyes, “yeah… I guess you’re right.”

Harry hummed approvingly. He slid a menu towards her to have a look at. Wordlessly, she picked it up and scanned the items. They were all crazy expensive— almost a week's worth of her wages for one dish. Plus, she could barely even read some of these names. Nervously she glanced at Harry, “what do you usually get?”

“I like their Agnolotti del Plin,” he said, not looking up from the menu. She put hers down and sighed. His eyebrows furrowed as he met her eyes, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’ll get what you’re having. The agnal thing.”

“Agnolotti del Plin?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm.”

The waitress came back to their table and asked them if they were ready to order. Y/N let Harry do the talking, afraid to mispronounce anything. She watched in awe as the Italian rolled off his tongue so easily. The waitress nodded and told them she’d be back with their dishes soon. When Harry turned back to her, his brows were still furrowed.

“Have you… ever had Agnolotti del Plin?”

“... yes,” she lied.

“Oh. Right.”

It was silent again. Their dynamic was so odd that Y/N didn’t know how to make conversation with him. What would they even talk about?

“Do you feel better?” He referred to her earlier breakdown. A breath escaped her mouth, “yes. Thank you Mr. Styles.”

“I don’t want to pry, but if there’s anything you want to talk about…” Harry said. Getting the sentence out was a feat. He was smart enough to know that talking about your feelings helped you feel better but he didn’t know what he would do once she started talking. Should he be touching her shoulder again? Rubbing her arm for comfort?

“I don’t want to bother you with my problems.”

“It’s no bother, otherwise I wouldn’t have asked. But I understand if you don’t want to talk.”

“Thanks,” she said for the millionth time that night. She wasn’t quite ready to spill her guts in front of her boss yet, no matter how vulnerable the crying made her seem. They remained quiet until the food was placed before them.

The dish was amazing— ravioli packed with smoked pigeon and covered in truffle sauce. It was when she smelled it that she realised how truly hungry she was. Once it was presented to her, she had her head down, engrossed in the food. Harry could understand completely. He himself was starving when he walked out of his office earlier. The only reason he really left was to go see if there was anything in the office fridge he could snack on.

About midway through their meal, her phone pinged. She ignored it when it went off once. But then it pinged again and again and again. Ignoring it for the sake of having good manners, Y/N turned it over and tried to continue with the meal, except it began pinging even more. “I’m sorry,” she sighed, putting her fork down and picking up her phone. It was Landon.

Her eyebrows furrowed as she stared down at the texts. He demanded to know where she was since she hadn’t texted him in a couple of hours. She couldn’t believe the audacity of the man; he didn’t respond to any of her texts all day and still expected her to continue texting him even after he made it clear he didn’t want to speak to her. Her irritated expression didn’t go unnoticed by Harry.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah… yeah, it’s just my boyfriend.”

His eyebrows shot up. “You have a boyfriend?” He blurted out.

Y/N met his rounded eyes. “Yes. We’re long distance.”

“Oh.”

“He’s been weird ever since I started working at Grapejuice Inc,” Y/N continued. “I don’t know. It’s just stressing me out, I guess.”

Harry hummed. It wasn’t his place to say, but he knew that if a relationship was stressing someone out, then it probably wasn’t healthy. He bit his tongue when he saw her furrowed brows. She huffed and put her phone on silent, not bothering to respond as she went back to her food. 

They finished eating soon after. Y/N insisted on splitting the bill but Harry looked at her like she had grown a second head, snatching the bill from her hands. He slid his platinum card inside and gave it to the waitress who found their exchange amusing. After she brought them the receipt, Harry called Tomas to come up front. “Where do you live?” He looked at her expectantly and held the door open for her. 

“Oh, just down nine and fifth avenue. It’s the house with the purple mailbox.”

Tomas nodded at her words and began driving. This time, Y/N had her purse in her lap. Her hand  was resting on the middle seat. Harry was looking out of the window as they sat in silence. She admired him for a little while, appreciating the cut of his jaw and his plump lips. It was almost aggravating how pretty he was. His hand, ringed and tattooed with a cross by his thumb, rested on the middle seat as well.

His eyes never wavered from where they looked outside at the passing lights. Y/N shut her eyes and rested her head back against the seat. It had been an insane day and she couldn’t wait to go home and get under her covers. She must have relaxed a little too much, though, because a few moments later she felt her pinky collide with his. Surprisingly, neither of them jumped at the feeling. His hand was warm and her heart was racing.

They grazed each other again. For a second, Y/N felt his pinky rest completely on top of hers, though he didn’t stop gazing out the window. They both jumped as Tomas suddenly sneezed, pulling their hands away. Harry cleared his throat and Y/N told Tomas ‘bless you.’ The whole interaction had her breathing erratic and lip worried.

She finally recognised her street when they turned around the familiar corner. A grateful smile graced her features. She thanked Tomas first and then turned to Harry. She was immensely thankful for his comfort and for providing her with a full belly by treating her to such a luxurious meal. “Thank you, Mr. Styles. I had a great time and I feel so much better.”

He met her smile with a small one. “It was my pleasure. Have a good night, Miss L/N.”

“Night.”

-

Y/N relayed the night's details to Niall the next morning over coffee. He gasped dramatically and went on and on about how this was Y/N’s ‘romcom’ moment and that she was the main character who had a hot CEO boss obsessed with her. Y/N only laughed at how ridiculous he was, smacking his head when he wouldn't shut up and began narrating detailed, graphic, office fantasies that he most probably saw in some cheap porno.

“It doesn’t matter, Ni. I have a boyfriend,” was what she told him, trying to brush him off. “A boyfriend who lives a million miles away and doesn’t care if you live or die.” Those words did make her frown a little bit. Maybe Landon was a little bit weird and possessive, but surely he would care if Y/N dropped dead out of nowhere. She tried to give no weight to Niall’s words. She had enough on her plate to worry about.

When she finally decided to confront Landon, he demanded she tell him where she was last night. Y/N lied and said she was having dinner with Niall, but Landon didn’t even like that response. Any friend of Y/N that was a male was automatically disliked by Landon. It was a stupid habit of his, but then Y/N put herself in his shoes and thought about how she would feel if he began hanging out with a bunch of girls. It would leave a sour taste in her mouth but would she really react like he did? So dramatic and accusatory?

She tried her best to ignore the pestering thoughts as she walked into work the following Monday. She wondered if the air between her and Harry would be any different now that he had seen her in such a vulnerable state. But then again, he was known for his cold exterior, so maybe not. She took a deep breath as she walked in with his coffee in hand at exactly nine AM. He was busy on the phone and typing something on his computer at the same time, sparing her a glance and a small nod.

Whispering a small ‘good morning’, Y/N set the coffee down on his table. It was then she realised how dark and stuffy it was in his office. He probably forgot to open up the windows again on Friday before leaving. Deciding to open them up to encourage some air circulation, she walked behind Harry’s desk. The blinds were behind his chair and Y/N tried to squeeze herself between the small gap to open them up. Harry was too preoccupied on the phone to notice her.

The space was quite narrow so she had to really get in there to get the blinds open, stretching slightly and getting on her tippy-toes. Behind her, she heard Harry put the phone down. Suddenly, she felt as she lost her footing, a yelp escaping her mouth as she prepared to collapse face-first on the floor.

Except she didn’t collapse.

A firm, warm pair of hands settled on her waist, preventing her from face-planting into the floor. She was standing in between Harry’s legs, leaning over him so his breath washed over her face. Her hands were planted on his broad shoulders, fingers digging into the muscle there and he held her waist tightly. Her breath was stolen from her lungs.

“You okay?”

For some reason, she struggled to tear her gaze away from his mouth as he spoke, mesmerised by the way his lips moved. She almost relaxed into his hold. “Y–yeah. Thanks.” Now it was Harry’s turn to stare at her mouth. He met her eyes, then her lips, then her eyes, then her lips. They were painted pink and parted, practically begging Harry to kiss them. It was like he couldn’t help it as he leaned in closer— like her lips personally called to him to be tasted.

His thumbs dug into her ribs. She made a small sound which sounded awfully close to a whimper. That was ultimately what pushed him over the edge as he threw all resolve out of the door and caved in to the taste of her mouth. He had been thinking about what she might taste like for the longest time now, the night at the restaurant not making things any easier as her mouth plumped up in constant pouts.

Now, though, Harry was in heaven. She was sweet, like mango juice as he kissed her more firmly, letting her relax in his hold. His grip on her waist was all that was holding her up now as she suckled on his bottom lip and grabbed his shoulders harder.

This was so, so wrong. It was so inappropriate for him to be making out with his assistant in his office, lost in the taste of her and the sight of her in that little floral sundress. He groaned against her when she slid her tongue into his mouth. Her movements were bolder than he expected as she bit his lip softly.

The shrill sound of his phone ringing was what made them part, a filthy sound resounding when they pulled away, and strings of spit connected their mouth. He looked into her eyes as she wiped his mouth with her thumb and finally stood up. She looked flustered and fucked out— cheeks flushed and lips spit-slicked. Her dress had ridden up but she quickly pulled it down. Harry tried desperately to will his hard-on away, eyes never leaving hers despite the sound of his phone ringing in the office.

She was a little out of breath, “you… you should probably get that.”

He nodded, snapped out of his daze. “Yes. Yep. I’ll, uh… I’ll get that.”

“Cool.” Cool?

Turning on her heel, she left his office. When the door shut behind her, Y/N slid a hand through her hair and bit her thumb. She just made out with her hot CEO boss. In his office.

Although the kiss was amazing and her heart was racing, she couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. She had a whole boyfriend who trusted her to remain loyal and this was what she decided to do? Her heart sank a little in her chest, but she realised it didn’t outweigh the giddiness in her body and wetness between her thighs, all because of a little kiss. She groaned.

Y/N was fucked.

-

It was nearing lunch-time and Harry was still hung up on that fucking kiss. He felt so stupid for letting himself slip like that. How could he have made such a big mistake? Getting hot with your employees was one of the biggest no-nos of being in-charge of running a whole company. 

But he just couldn’t deny how good it felt.

How nice she tasted, how she felt under his hands. The sounds she made and her confidence as she slipped her tongue into his mouth. She was exactly how he thought she would be— addicting. He couldn’t stop thinking about her; not as he went about his day to numerous meetings, attended a morning tea and interviewed an important client.

His every thought started and ended with her ever since she cursed him with that fucking mouth. Soft, warm, wet… he could only imagine how she felt in other places. Running a hand down his face, Harry sighed heavily. This wasn’t healthy. He had to either stop thinking about her or figure out a way to deal with this situation head on. Somehow the latter seemed easier.

He thought back to a couple nights ago when she was stressed and crying right in front of him. He knew the poor girl had a lot going on in her life, and with her boyfriend being long distance, he assumed she didn’t have a lot of means to release some of her frustrations. Plus, from what she told him, her boyfriend sounded like an absolute shit-bag so Harry automatically assumed he wouldn’t be able to give Y/N the satisfaction she needed anyway.

Pacing in his office, a crazy idea popped into Harry’s head.

Since just buying her dinner made her so happy and stress-free, Harry wondered what else he could do for her to make her feel good again. He wasn’t just thinking about pleasuring her anymore. He wanted to spoil her. He wanted to make her feel special. Not only would it help with her frustrations, but it would be a good outlet for him as well. It was not like he had plans to marry and start a family soon and he had heaps of money just sitting in his bank accounts. Money that had no use apart from paying for his bills and groceries.

Money he was willing to spend and that would probably be appreciated more elsewhere.

He wanted to propose an arrangement to Y/N, like the business-man he was. He’ll spoil her to the ends of the world, till her heart’s content— till he pleases. In return he would request her time and affections. In the way he craves, like a starved man. It was crazy to think that just the touch of her lips was driving him to take such steps— he felt like a spell had been cast on him. He had to see her. He had to tell her.

Finally deciding to grow a pair, Harry threw his door open and strutted out of his office, hair messy thanks to his fingers and eyes wide. However, his stomach sank when he turned to see if Y/N was at her desk.

The good part was that she was there like he hoped, looking all pretty in her sundress and hair left down. The bad part was that there was a blonde man standing before her, handing her a bouquet of flowers and pulling her in for a kiss.

The same lips he kissed mere hours ago.

The same waist he caressed was being hugged tightly as the boy lifted her off her feet and she smiled into his mouth, blinded to the shattering of Harry’s heart as he stood there by the door, disappointment overcoming his hard features.

-

Kissing Landon was very different to kissing Harry.

Whereas Harry met Y/N gently, like she was made of glass, puckered his lips tenderly and pressed sweet little pecks against her pouty mouth, Landon was quite… harsh. His arm slithered around her waist the same time he kissed her; rough, oddly possessive and a little painful, if she was being honest. He smashed his mouth into her teeth too hard, and paired with the grip he had on her waist, Y/N almost felt like she was being punished for some horrific crime.

And well, now that she pondered over it, maybe she deserved a distasteful kiss. She wasn’t really the ideal girlfriend these past couple of days which she spent daydreaming about her hot CEO boss, wondering what his soft words and lingering touches meant. Then when he kissed her mere hours before Landon surprised her, for those couple of minutes, the fact that Y/N even had a boyfriend slipped her mind completely. All she could think about was the strong, caring man in front of her, kissing her with so much passion and his hands on her sides, which pressed into the warm skin, bunching up her dress, and maybe if the phone didn’t ring and they didn’t have to stop, he would have pulled her onto his lap and slipped his fingers beneath her dress—

She was truly a terrible person.

She was a horrible, nasty, disgusting person for cheating on her poor unsuspecting boyfriend and kissing another man behind his back. The moment she stepped outside of his office, breathless with swollen lips, guilt swarmed her belly and made her insides turn black. Like she was rotten. And she felt rotten, but that wasn’t the worst part. Something else dug into her whirlwind of a brain, rattled her bones and made her breath tremble. 

Despite the guilt that ate away at her heart, Y/N couldn’t deny that she liked it.

She liked the way he latched onto her bottom lip, and she liked the way he held her like she was going to slip away if he loosened for even a second. She liked the sounds he made and she liked the look in his eyes when she pulled away— hazy, like he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her spit-slicked lips. And perhaps she liked all of these things a little too much… perhaps they outweighed the guilt in her tummy.

God, she was just an awful human. She spent the next three hours following the kiss internally fighting herself over this dilemma, going back and forth feeling guilty and then feeling horny. Her panties were uncomfortably soaked and she had to make an embarrassing trip to the mall by the office just to grab a new pair of underwear— over a fucking kiss.

A kiss. That was literally it. They didn’t do anything further, he didn’t slide his hands between her legs, didn’t kiss down her neck— just showered her in honeyed purses of his lips and she was such a fucking mess. In her defence, she hadn’t been touched in any way in a long, long time. With Landon living ages away, Y/N often had to go months upon months without any physical affection. Even when they did get to spend time together, he didn’t let their kisses get too frisky. Didn’t let it progress to anything further, no matter how much she wanted.

She asked him about it too, but he would always go on some long spiel about how he was saving it for marriage and how amazing their first night together would be once they were husband and wife and they could finally have sex. Outwardly, she’d agree. Landon was always sort of sentimental— someone who was sensitive and wanted everything to have some deep meaning they could uncover together.

But Y/N was only just a girl. She had needs. Needs which her boyfriend was not meeting and needs for which her vibrator was just not enough anymore! That was why she was so ready to take things further with Harry. She wouldn’t have minded if he yanked her on his lap and grinded her against his bulge. She wouldn’t have minded if he touched her ass and pushed her dress up, tucked his fingers into her panties an—

This was becoming a problem. Her fucking boyfriend was standing right in front of her yet all she could think about was what Harry’s palms would feel like on her thighs. 

Her fucking boyfriend was standing right in front of her and— wait. Why was he standing right in front of her?

Her jaw dropped when he stepped out of the elevators and came into her view; tall, beaming, blonde hair pushed back and a bouquet of roses in his hands. Her jaw stayed dropped when he sauntered towards her, one arm stretched wide like he was presenting himself, “surprise!”

And then:

“Oh my god! Landon!”

She stopped lagging and forced herself to a stand, watching as he jogged towards her and engulfed her into his chest. Landon felt familiar. He was warm, sturdy, built with strong muscles and broad shoulders which she wrapped her arms around. Citrus and musk invaded her senses; a scent which usually brought her comfort. Usually reminded her of home and date nights, cuddles and walks in the park.

Now it made her sick. Nauseous. Her stomach had been churning ever since she left Harry’s office that morning and his harsh cologne was not helping. Her nose was squished into his neck and his arms were wrapped around her like cling-film, nearly smothering her. She felt like she was suffocating, and she would have, had she not put her hands on his chest and gently shoved him off of her. Then came the initial shock, “wh–what are you doing here? How did y—”

“I wanted to surprise you, sweets. I missed you and I barely heard from you. Are you not happy to see me?” 

Now, how could Y/N ever tell him she was anything but?

Y/N met Marigold during her first year of university.

She was a nervous mess, anxious about moving to a whole new city, surrounded by completely new people. When she was in high school, everyone would always rave about how fun and freeing university would be. Stories about large friend groups and parties every weekend had Y/N hoping she would contort into some kind of friendly and approachable version of herself so she could also experience uni like most people made it out to be.

Thankfully, the universe had been on her side that first day on campus, probably pitied by her trembling hands and permanent frown. Anyone within a 10 metre radius of Y/N could have sensed that her nerves were on fire.

Soon enough that fire was consoled, and the universe sent her a cheeky wink and a sly smile; because the day she walked into her dorm, she found a teary Marigold wrapped in the arms of her father.

Marigold was pretty like her name— her hair was buttery, eyes like drops of honey and she had a smile that was entirely too contagious. Everything about her was beautiful. She was gorgeous and outgoing, an extrovert who practically pounced on Y/N the second she stepped into the room. 

In the beginning, Y/N was quite wary of her; she found that usually people who were too friendly too soon were often compensating for a more sour part of their persona that they planned to reveal later down the road.

But being around Marigold was just so easy.

Talking to her was easy and befriending her was easy. People like her were like magnets— guys and girls both practically drooling at her feet at every given moment. It wasn’t a surprise she had everyone wrapped around her perfect, manicured finger, and one of those that fell victim to her charms was the one and only Harry Styles.

Harry Styles was notorious on campus for jumping from girl to girl and bed to bed— a sex-driven man who no matter how many people he slept with in a month, was the star in every man and woman’s wet dream.

At one point, Y/N might have thought he was cute. The first time she saw him was at a party where he was (surprise surprise) pressed up against a pretty redhead, twirling her hair around his finger and whispering things in her ear. He was gorgeous; with green eyes that marbleized into hues of brown and golden, chocolate locks that swirled over his forehead and a tall, lean build littered in tattoos.

One had to be either blind or a liar to say he wasn’t attractive.

And Y/N enjoyed ogling him for a while as well.

Until he began seeing Marigold.

After Y/N and Marigold moved in together, they naturally became really close friends, thanks to the forced proximity within their tiny space. Close friends turned into best friends, and with all best friendships, Y/N had to hear about the nitty gritty details of her friend’s love life.

Although she would attempt to listen with newfound enthusiasm every time Marigold had a new lover, once Harry came into the mix, things began getting more interesting. The most sought after boy on campus was seeing her best friend— the situation practically begged for a hot goss sesh.

Marigold set the scene for Y/N about how he approached her for the first time at a party, passed a number of compliments her way and kissed her after a couple of dances. His pretty mouth casted a spell on her, and she didn’t stop blabbering about how amazing and hot he was for the next week and a half, which was when Harry showed up at their dorm with a bouquet of flowers and asked Marigold to be his girlfriend.

No matter how off Harry’s aura made her feel, Y/N had to force herself to be happy for Marigold.

And she was for a while! In the beginning, things were looking up for the new couple.

Word was getting around the campus that Marigold had tied Harry down— the boy was ready to settle into a serious relationship with Y/N’s best friend. His commitment issues and inability to keep his dick in one place suddenly vanished.

And maybe it did for a month.. or two… and then when the third month rolled around… well, everyone sat silly with their foot in their mouth.

A sobbing and shaking Marigold laid in Y/N’s lap within less than six months of her seeing Harry.

“He told me he loved me, Y/N.”

“Does he not think I’m pretty?”

“Was I never enough for him?”

All these questions to which Y/N had no answer to but to stroke her friends back and reassure her of how perfect she was; that Harry was an idiot for cheating on her— that any man would be stupid to let someone like Marigold go.

All of her friends' tears told a separate story. Some new torture that Harry put Marigold through was revealed with every fat, salty drop that dribbled down her cheeks.

Marigold was quick to spill that not only did the boy cheat on her after claiming he was in love with her, but he was a toxic asshole who tried to control every single aspect of her life. Marigold had to dress how he liked, spoked only to people who he “approved” of, clean out her social media followings, and keep him updated about her whereabouts at all times.

The worst part was Y/N had no fucking clue her best friend was being put through this. 

Harry had convinced (gaslit) Marigold into believing that everything he did was for the best of her and really, what good was she if Harry wasn’t by her side?

It was safe to say that after hearing Marigold shyly tell her about Harry’s “rules”, Y/N vowed to despise Harry for the rest of her life.

The mere sight of him ticked her off and she aided her best friend in getting over him by consistently reminding her of all the crap he put her through. Like just the fact that he treated her that way wasn’t enough and Marigold had to be reminded every time about exactly how he hurt her.

A semester passed; and then two. 

Time really was the best medicine, as a year later Marigold slowly got over the cancer that was Harry and Y/N learned to live with her infinite hatred for the man.

Y/N avoided him like the plague— blocked him on all her social media and would say no to hang out with any mutual friends the two might have at the risk that she might see him.

And she was doing really well embarking on this little mission of hers! 

Until she bumped into him 14 months later at a house party in celebration of the end of the semester.

She didn’t plan to be at the party right after her exams were finished, but there was something about the weekend following the end of semester which made her feel obligated to do something fun and exciting with her time. Y/N was brave enough to go to this one alone, forced to retire to this fate as Marigold had gone overseas the afternoon her last assignment was due.

That left Y/N alone in her dorm and an alone Y/N is a pesky Y/N; itching to do something to entertain her idle hands. So she messed around on her phone until she found an open invite to a party posted to a friend's story, didn’t bother checking the address to see who’s house it was, put on a skimpy outfit and left to get hammered— and if she was lucky, maybe even laid.

The outfit she wore was tiny and revealing. A two piece black top and mini skirt which showed off the majority of her legs. Anyone could tell that she aimed to get laid that night and the amount of people that tried to approach her on the little sofa she was tucked in to made her feel great about herself. 

The sad part was that she had to turn down most of them with a sympathetic smile on her face since she was easily disgusted and icked out by the smallest things. It was a tendency of hers that was what often got in the middle of her getting fucked; she found hersef unable to not pick out the smallest details about someone and not get turned off immediately.

They stared at her legs too long? Ick. They’re wearing skin-tight jeans? Ick. They try to kiss her within five minutes of talking to her? Ick.

By the time she softly excused herself from the last guy who drunkenly attempted to slip his hand up her skirt, Y/N was feeling a little hopeless and extremely frustrated. 

How hard was it just to get fucked by a semi-decent guy?

One more drink, Y/N decided, and she would just go home. She didn’t even have the energy to entertain herself at this point, ready to go to bed high and dry.

And she would’ve, had she not turned around to see a smug looking Harry staring at her. He didn’t bother to begin with a greeting, eyes settled on her chest and roaming her legs freely. The kink in Y/N’s eyebrows was immediate; she was ready to ignore his presence and walk right past him if he had not stopped her with his sultry baritone.

”Y’look hot as fuck.” A drink was hanging loosely between his fingers and much to Y/N’s misfortune, he looked amazing. His hair was messy and flopped over due to his fingers' constant interference and he wore a pair of loose jeans and a plain black t-shirt. 

Too bad his comment made Y/N want to puke.

She gave him one last chance and chose to ignore him and leave, but Harry had other plans as he stepped backwards when she stepped forwards, “don’t leave just yet. Promise, I don’t bite.”

The little smirk on his face made Y/N’s skin crawl and she couldn’t stop the snarl that crept upon her features, “funny, seeing you here, I assumed you’d have your dick stuck in anything that resembled a hole by this time of the night.” Her voice was sharp and witty, and she might have thought the comment was too harsh but it didn’t seem like it struck Harry the way she wanted it to when the seam of his lips stretched even wider. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Harry stuffed a hand in his pocket and moved to stand right in front her so her back was facing the wall. They were in a fairly quiet room with a handful of people around them— somewhere Y/N retreated to when the party got a bit overbearing. “Fuck off, Harry. I don’t want to talk to you.”

”Come on, Y/N. Don’t hate me so much. We can have so much fun together,” he said slyly. Y/N crossed her arms over her chest, which was a huge fucking mistake because now Harry was having a conversation with her tits. “Hey, my eyes are up here, you dick. And don’t pretend like you don’t know why I hate you.” Harry feigned a look of confusion, “I don’t. Care to remind me?”

When he didn’t let up on the staring contest he seemed to be having with her boobs, Y/N dropped her arms in exasperation, “you were an ass to Marigold. Cheated on her when you told her you loved her.” She couldn’t believe he didn’t remember what he did; or maybe he did remember, and was being dense on purpose just to piss her off. “Did I? Can’t recall.”

He took a step closer to her and Y/N’s chest began to rise and fall with anger, “don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about.” She had half the mind to shove him so his drink sloshed in his hands but she didn’t, tightening her fingers to prevent herself from making a scene in the middle of the party. “Those are all things of the past. I’ve changed now,” Harry said. Y/N scoffed. “Guys like you don’t change, Harry. You can lie and you can manipulate, but you will never ever change.”

She shoved her index finger in his chest, making him stumble back a little. This time her words made his eyebrows furrow, “who the fuck do you think you are, telling me what I can and cannot do?” Harry was close enough that she backed up into the wall, but she never let her stare falter even once. “I hate you,” her voice was scarily stable, “I hate you and you’re a toxic, manipulative prick who hurt my best friend and can’t commit for shit.”

Harry’s eyes darkened, “you don’t know anything about me, so I suggest you and your prissy ass fuck off before I say something I don’t want to.” He was looking right into her own eyes, unwavering and intimidating, but Y/N wasn’t going to back down. “There’s nothing you can say to hurt me. I’m not insecure like you.” She was pushing all of his buttons, and Harry wanted nothing more than to shut her mouth so she wasn’t running it like she owned the damn place.

“Babe, don’t project yourself onto me. It was always really obvious you were mad I chose to fuck Marigold over you. Y’know, she was way fucking hott—“

He didn’t finish the end of his sentence because Y/N shoved him away from her with all her might. “Don’t fucking finish that sentence and don’t ever talk to me again,” she hissed. Her face was warm and hot with anger, and she didn’t bother checking his reaction before she stormed out of the room and wiggled her way around the crowd to escape upstairs.

Her chest was heaving and if she let her walls down, her eyes would brim with tears. Thankfully she was able to find an empty room to the left of the long hallway, and it was tidy enough for her to seclude herself in. She shut the door and paced around the room. 

Something about him just made her want to rip her own skin off. He knew just how to get on her nerves and what buttons to push to make her boil with anger, but she wasn’t going to let a dick like him get to her. A couple minutes passed as she calmed herself down, and right when she felt like she was good enough to face the crowd and leave the party, the door opened.

Her shoulders dropped when she saw Harry walk in and shut the door behind himself and lock it. “I just told you don’t want to ta—“

“—You started it downstairs. I was being nice—“

“— Is that your idea of nice, Harry? Staring at my tits and asking me why I won’t have fun with you?”

“I didn’t do anything wrong, I was being civil until you started fucking accusing me of shit out of nowhere!”

She scoffed. “Wow, I cannot believe you. I don’t know if you act this way on purpose or you really can’t tell what the fuck is wrong with your brain.”

“Can you have a normal conversation with me without insulting me for a fucking second?”

His voice was getting louder and he was right in front of her, staring down angrily at her annoyed face. She could tell his jaw was tense and the sight was almost hot which was even more annoying. “I don’t want to have any conversation with you. I think I have made that pretty fucking cle—“

“—Will you shut the fuck up and listen to me!”

Make me!”

Y/N didn’t know why she said what she said and why she did what she did right after, when Harry curled his fingers around her throat and dragged her towards his mouth. Their lips met in a harsh clash, smacking and bruising— confusing Y/N, because why is she not pulling away and why does he feel so good? His fingers slipped into her hair when he bit her bottom lip hard, “hate this mouth,” he mumbled against her, shoving her waist so she was forced to walk back and hit the bed. He pecked her jaw then came back to her mouth, “so bitchy.”

His words should have made her angry, but his mouth had a certain effect on her that made her feel things she shouldn’t, because his comment goes straight to her throbbing clit. She whimpered against his mouth. “You’re…” she breathed as he kissed down her neck, “…an asshole.”

Harry sunk his teeth into the base of her throat, “oh yeah?”

“Mmm. I hate you,” she responded. She was barely able to keep her eyes open when he finally pushed her on the bed and climbed on top of her. “I don’t think you do, baby. I think…” wet kisses were pressed down her neck and over the top of her chest, “… I think you want to fuck me. S’that right? Need me to make that ache go away?”

It was like her ability to speak comprehensively was taken away from her when he reached around her back and pulled the zipper down for her top. “Yes. Now— fuck me now, Harry.”

He licked a stripe up from the middle of her chest to her chin, dipping into her mouth to kiss her hastily. He was sinful with the way he looped his tongue around hers and nipped at her lip, “I’m getting quite annoyed by your demands. Didn’t I ask you to shut up?” She’s given no time to respond, gasping loudly when he took both of her tits in his hands and squeezed. His fingers were skillful as they played with the sensitive peaks of her nipples, pinching and tugging till she was a moany mess.

Y/N was unable to offer any response to him, arching her back into his touch when Harry pressed his lips to her nipples repeatedly, pecking them affectionately, “think these are the only things I like about you.”

He bit the flesh of her tit lightly as a parting gift before trailing further down her body. Her scent was intoxicating him, more than any drink or drug he’d ever consumed. She was crowding his senses— all he could see, smell, touch and think about. Once he reached the hem of her skirt, he pulled his shirt off and grabbed her hips to pull her closer. Y/N moaned highly when he ran his hands down her collarbones, her tits, her stomach and her navel, goosebumps following his trail as he travelled straight down to take her skirt off in one go.

The groan he let out the moment he saw her black lace thong was enough to make Y/N come on the spot. “Fuck me,” he sighed and tucked two fingers into the waistband. Before he pulled them off, he met Y/N’s eyes and waited for her to nod which was his que to rip the fabric off of her hips. “What the fuck, Ha—“

He shut up her protesting by shoving the lace into her mouth, muffling whatever curse she was about to spew his way. She furrowed her eyebrows upon feeling the fabric against her tongue, Harry’s long fingers wrapping around her jugular, “shhh. That's much better. You’re a bit more bearable with your mouth shut.”

Y/N wanted to say something back to him but all she could do was try to look angry even though her primary motive was to use his dick to get off. So she complied and held the tattered lace in her mouth even though getting rid of it was no problem at all— she’d only have to purse her lips and blow, but she didn’t; instead, she remained malleable and cooperative, not wanting to stray Harry away from what she wanted him to do, which was to fuck her brains out. 

He didn’t give her a chance to say anything anyway, because as soon as the fabric was tucked between her lips, he skipped down to her pussy and immediately latched on to the swollen bud pearled between her folds. She was wet beyond belief; slippery between her lips and trickling down onto the bed when he carefully sucked on her clit in rhythmic pulses. The underwear in her mouth was her biggest enemy as her back arched and her throat begged to cry out loud because of the pleasure coursing through her veins. She could feel it all the way in her fingertips when he tucked her lips apart and cooed at her clenching hole.

“I take it back. Your tits and your pussy are the only things I like about you,” such words would normally make Y/N want to slap a man, but Harry had the opposite effect, “s’very pretty.” He licked her shortly once, twice, and the third time was longer, more thorough as he slowly made his way all the way from her hole to her clit, flicking his tongue against the bud until she was shaking.

Her hips lifted off the bed, chasing Harry’s mouth and her own high which she reached quickly thanks to his noisy suckles and sloppy kisses. Harry tried to drag her orgasm on as much as he could, pushing himself nose-deep into her pussy until she folded her legs and pressed her knees together, forcing him to stop. A smack resounded around the room when he collided his palm with her outer thigh, making Y/N jump. Harry sat back on his heels.

“I want you on all fours with your ass up.” 

Y/N blinked at Harry, unmoving. Her orgasm had made her brain go all fuzzy. “Cmon, get,” he commanded, slapping her leg again. It was as if her thoughts had turned to mush, wanting to do what Harry said but she remained lying on her back and heaving, eyes fluttering shut. “For fucks sake.”

A yelp was muffled by the lace tucked between her teeth when Harry grabbed her hips and physically turned her over, palms rough as they slapped her knees apart and forced her into an arch, “have to do everything for you now, do I? Fucked dumb already?”

Harry wasn’t expecting an answer and Y/N couldn’t find it in her to give him one, instead feeling the burn in her body when he stretched her out as he pleased. She could hear the sound of him undoing his zipper and pulling his jeans down. She was a little bummed she couldn’t see him in all his naked glory, but the thought left her brain as soon as she felt him press his tip against her clit and fist her hair from behind.

“If only you weren’t such a bitch, I’d fuck this little pussy every night.” 

He exhaled as he slicked his cock with her juices, teasing her hole and her clit. Y/N tried to shift her hips back for some friction but his grip was unyielding, holding onto her side with one hand and pushing her face into the sheets with the other. She couldn’t retort even if she wanted to. 

“Fu—mm… pl—mph!” She tried pleading. Her desperation was quickly cut off as he delivered a sharp spank to her ass and slid into her at the same time. Harry didn’t bother going slow or giving her time to adjust, making it fit inside of her despite her walls pulsing around him. His hips were snug against her ass. 

Y/N could feel him everywhere.

Prodding into her tummy and trickling down to her toes— she was shaking with how good he felt pressed snugly against her g-spot. He delivered sharp, deep thrusts over and over and over again, hard and unrelenting. Her scalp stung with how he held her against the mattress, though Y/N didn’t mind the pain; if she could even call it that. The feeling was delicious, especially paired with the occasional slap to her ass. “So fucking wet,” Harry stated the fact, stilling inside of her.

“You alright?” His voice was soft as he leaned over her and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Her heart fluttered. She still couldn’t respond with the panties in her mouth so she offered him a nod to which he pressed a kiss to her cheek and returned to his position. He was still very much inside of her during the sweet exchanged, and it was like a flip was switched when he returned to fucking her properly.

The sounds of her muffled whines and his deep groans did something to Y/N— it was all too much. Matters only got worse for her as his fingers met her clit, circling the bud while his other hand slid down her back. Y/N could finally twist her neck and look at him, and the sight was enough to have her screaming.

He was kneeling behind her, hands occupied with pleasuring her and his hair was falling all over his forehead and into his eyes. With furrowed eyebrows and a hung open mouth, he urged Y/N towards her second orgasm of the night.

“Come for me, baby. Give it to me, s’all I want.” 

She was writhing in his grasp, grinding her hips back as she came around his cock. The fabric he gagged her with barely covered the sounds of her moans, the sight making Harry speed up his pace. “Fuck, you’re so fucking hot.”

The pleasure that overtook her was blinding— like lightning bolts that struck her nerves. His perfect attention against her clit and g-spot had Y/N speechless and dumb, pulling the panties out of her mouth and reaching a hand back to meet him on her hip. “Please, please,

please.” She moaned, unsure of what she was begging him for.

Harry slipped out of her shortly after that and tugged his cock between his ringed fists. Y/N was ready to go again when she saw him coming— hot, white spurts of come painting her back as he tipped his head back and groaned.“Jesus—fuck, you’re so good, baby,” he whimpered.

Once he was done, he slumped over her perched ass, feeling exhaustion creep upon his bones.

A minute passed as both of them tried to catch their breaths, eyes meeting and exchanging words unsaid. They were dragged out of their sweet reverie when someone banged on their door. The pair jumped, “occupied!” Harry yelled out.

“This is my fucking room!” 

Harry rolled his eyes as he patted Y/N’s hip, “y’good? C’mon, we have to clean up before that dick has a heart attack.” Y/N was too stunned to laugh at his joke, the reality of the situation seeping into her bones. She watched Harry get dressed and then get a napkin to wipe her back. He passed her her clothes and turned around as she dressed up— still in shock, “um…” she started, unknowing where she was trying to lead this conversation, “we shouldn’t have done that.”

He only shrugged, “don’t know what the problem is? Was just sex.”

“I know it was only sex, but you’re my best friends ex, we sho—“

“Well, you should have thought of that before you begged me to put my dick inside of you.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes, “fuck you, Harry.”

“Y’already did,” he smirked. He walked over to where she was on the bed and pulled her in for another short kiss. 

Y/N didn’t fight it.

“S’fine. No one has to know, and I promise I won’t tell. Cross my heart,” a silly smile played on his lips, fingers tucking her hair behind her ear. “Now let's go.”

As she was getting ready to leave the room, her phone pinged on the bedside table where she set it down when she first walked in. The notification made her heart drop.

Marigold ⭐️ 

how was the party?? meet anyone to take home yet ?

Her heart skipped a beat reading over the message. Before she could respond, Harry disrupted her internal battle, “Y/N? Are you coming or not?” She hummed out a yes and shut her phone. She didn’t have the energy to respond to Marigold right now— she needed a well constructed lie which would take a while to develop in her current fucked-out state.

Until then she’d have to live with the fact that she fucked the one man she claimed to hate for the rest of her life. The thought was enough to make her skin crawl— eating her alive until she was a mess of pitiful skin and bones.

Y/N felt like she would never be able to forgive herself. Not only did she break a promise she so readily made to herself, but she betrayed her best friend who trusted her to no end.

As she stood there in the aftermath, she knew she'd just shattered something that could never be fixed, no matter how hard she tried.

The first time she tried to name that particular shade of green was when her father introduced the young knight to her as her new personal guard. She remembered the way she rolled her eyes and her dramatic shrug as she protested loudly, eyeing the man in silver armour who kneeled before her and her father—"I do not require another knight, Papa." I already have a dozen of them trailing behind me everywhere I go!”

But of course, her father being the stubborn man he was (and she would be lying if she said she didn’t inherit these qualities herself) paid no mind to her whining, shooing her away like an inconvenience. Like she was nothing more than an insect crawling on his arm.

It was at that moment she realized she had no choice but to accept, for the king's wrath was feared by many adorning the land. She resigned to finally glancing at the armoured figure, who, upon her instruction, rose to his feet, and it was then she fell into this pesky trance—her tireless search as to the colour of his eyes. Being the only part of his person that she ever had the chance to actually see, they struck her immediately. She noted the chocolate lashes framing his pupils and the shyness in his gaze.

But what she remembered most was the booming sound of her father's voice as he ordered the knight to take his oath, swearing him to devote his life and soul to protecting the princess, swearing to put her above all, even himself, if it ever came down to it.

She watched this as it happened, slightly bored, having witnessed this several times already. Meanwhile, she tried to steal glimpses of his eyes and made up her mind that she would, one day, by will or by way, put a name to the intriguing hue that had somehow stolen that night’s slumber as she lay awake, staring at the blank palace ceilings, acutely aware that the object of her thoughts stood soundlessly outside her very door.

-

It was the following week when Y/N sat alone in the massive palace library, fingering the books on the shelves, trying to pick out her next read. The only problem was that she had practically read every single word that resided within these dusty four walls, and her father seldom ordered new shipments of books to her liking.

She paced along the shelves until her eyes landed on the familiar tattered cover of Pride and Prejudice. Her favourite book. She assumed she’d read the infamous novel about thirteen times at this point, yet it never seemed to bore her.

The sound of her hums kept the page company as she picked the book up from the massive shelf and waltzed to her favourite spot in the room. One might confidently be able to confirm that Y/N was by herself in her lonesomeness had the knight by the wooden doors not shuffled to comfort his footing. The princess tried her best to ignore the sound and continue with her book, but her curiosity always got the best of her. Another sniffle caught her attention at once, her gaze escaping the words before her and settling on the tall silver figure.

They were finally past the formalities of his initiation, and Y/N was glad to learn that the knight now felt comfortable enough to roam without his helmet. She drank in the sight of him—all six feet and wide shoulders, soft-looking brown curls, and a straight nose accompanied by a rosy set of lips. And of course, his curious eyes.

It did not take long for her to come to the conclusion that he was certainly the most appealing knight her father had ever allowed to be in her company.

She did not have much to place her judgment on, as she sadly had not heard a peep from his mouth apart from the oath that he had taken in her name last week. All she had truly been privy to was his silent brooding. The weight of his presence in the room. Y/N, having nothing to do with her acres of spare time, set her book down and looked intently at the knight.

“Is it not peculiar that we have been in each other’s company for nearly a week, yet we do not know each other’s names?” She asked, a palm hugging her cheek. The knight did not spare a glance in her direction. “I was informed your name is Y/N, Your Highness.”

“You were informed correctly. But you have only answered half my inquiry,” Y/N retorted. This time he tipped his head down to the floor before replying, "My name should not be your concern.” Y/N thought the situation was rather silly. Was she to just call for nothing if she ever ran into danger? Although such an event was a rare possibility, she brought this up with the mysterious knight. “And if I ever require your rescue, how may I call upon you?”

“I shall never be apart from you, Your Highness. You shall never need to call upon me, as I will always be near you, under any circumstances.”

The princess was growing rather agitated at this point. She felt the knight was being too stubborn. “As your princess, I demand you tell me your name,” she asserted. If he were an attentive listener, he might have heard the very slight shake in her voice. Y/N very rarely showcased her power and dominated this way.

The knight remained silent for a while—Y/N counted twenty seconds before he finally met her gaze. “Harry.”

“Harry,” she tasted the name on her tongue. Felt the r’s roll. It was a lovely name. Seemed to fit the knight. “Very well. Thank you, Harry.” He bowed his head respectfully, readjusting his stance to stare forward. Y/N, on the other hand, did not let her eyes waver.

She continued to roam the man’s features until she finally settled on his pupils. Another day had gone, and her curiosity had not been satisfied. Perhaps she would pester Harry about the matter another fateful afternoon. “Do you enjoy reading, Harry?”

“Occassionally.”

Y/N hummed in approval. “What is your favourite book?”

“You need not worry about my likes or dislikes, Your Highness,” Harry replied stoically. The princess felt her brows furrow in confusion. Why was he so stubborn about being unfriendly? Was her presence truly that intimidating?

“Do you not like me?” She found herself voicing her concerns. Her lips settled into a slight pout as the knight spared her a glance. He seemed taken aback by her question once again. “I apologize if I have given that impression, Your Highness. Your company is most enjoyable.”

Y/N did not bother to strain herself to continue this conversation again. If he was so intent on being closed off, so be it. Besides, it was never a good idea to get attached to your guard or servants, as they so often change and rotate. Perhaps her time with Harry would be a challenging, strenuous one.

OKAYYY longer authors note here.!! i know u have not heard much from me except random empty promises where i say i will write again but look!! i wrote!! this is probably total trash but tbh i felt like i need to put it out there cos it was just in my drafts and maybe MYABE if ANYONEEE ON HERE likes it it will give me motivation to write more of this and potentially more other stories!! if this inspired any ideas or any plot points or any fantasies u wnna see, send them my way!! writers block is literally like quicksand im suffocating guys hand me a stick :(((((

It started off Monday. Y/N had finally tied the knot in her head: she was going to quit. It was a heavy and haunting decision, but it was her only option.

And since she was going to quiet anyway, she had decided to take make some use of her paid leave. Very impulsively, she had requested to take five days off. Unfortunately, since it was so last minute, she couldn't immediately be free from the office, and had to brave through one more week before she could take nine days to herself.

Despite being able to see it in the agenda, it was common courtesy to inform your manager of your days off. Y/N had already told Sophie and she was thrilled, raving on and on about how she deserved to have some time off. But until Friday came around, she still had to go to the office, and she still had to face Oscar every day.

Ever since his fall-out at her desk, Y/N had been in a constant state of stress. His office was still across from her desk, and her skin still prickled when she felt him look at her through his office windows.

In the first week after she'd punched Oscar, she was so stressed that she threw up in the bathroom and lost her vision. She was forced to sit on the floor for thirty minutes before she was able to stand up again. Fortunately, there was only a total of two times where she'd heaved her breakfast straight into the toilet. The other time was when he just so happened to enter the file room right after Y/N had gone in there. There was no one else in the room, and she was paralyzed with fear. She jumped at the way he harshly dropped a box of files on the table in front of her, and her skin paled at the constant feeling of his eyes on her. After that, Y/N never again walked into an empty room.

While she wasn't vomiting or unable to see on a daily basis, the stress still made her body tremble all day and collapse from exhaustion once she got home. This week was of course no different. In fact, it might even be worse, considering she'd promised herself to inform HR of her resignation.

Monday felt like all of them did: long and dreadful. Sophie stopped by her desk to bring her a cinnamon oat latte and a chocolate chip muffin she'd picked up on the way to the office, and it made the heap of paperwork a bit easier to sort through and fill out.

Y/N never ended up going to HR that Monday. She walked back and forth to their office about five times. The fifth and final time, she was just about to knock on the door when she spotted Oscar at the end of the hallway. She noticed his pace quicken, and in state of panic and fear, she turned around and hurried to the women's restroom where she vomited out everything that had given her fuel for the day.

Tuesday evening, at around 4:30pm she finally gathered the courage to plan a meeting with HR. There was only one person left in the office, and while her stomach dropped when the man told her they had a free spot next week—the one week she wasn't there—she calmly nodded when he suggested a later date. He had asked her if it was urgent—maybe having noticed her shaking hands or just her nervous demeanor—but she was still on the fence about mentioning Oscar in regards to her leaving, so she ensured the man that Wednesday in two weeks was fine.

She left the office feeling a little lighter, and as she changed into her gym clothes, the stress from work floated away and was swiftly replaced with the one distraction intense enough to work: Harry.

After having had the best sex of her life last week, Y/N was very jittery about seeing Harry again. She knew he was a professional and wouldn't discard the training to take her to his apartment or just take her right there (although a girl could dream). But still, she was still excited to see him, and for him to see her. She really liked the way he looked at her.

So she did what she reckoned every girl with a gym crush would do: buy some new work-out clothes. Y/N was properly blushing at the multiple sets she added to her cart. When she put on her new matching brown one on Tuesday, she'd actually felt really hot.

Both nervous and excited, she walked into the gym that Tuesday evening. She'd been wearing a large vest and sweatpants to cover the outfit in case she'd suddenly feel self-conscious. Harry smiled when he saw Y/N, waving at her from the desk before continuing his conversation with one of the women from the self-defense classes. Y/N was early, so she went ahead and entered the training room to put her stuff in the corner by the bench. She took a deep breath before she took off her vest. Observing herself in the mirror, she adjusted her ponytail while waiting for Harry to arrive. 

Her heart thumped when she heard the door click shut, and upon turning around, the first thing she noticed were Harry's eyes subtly raking over her body. He didn't say anything as he walked over to the speakers, although she thought she saw a slight shake of his head.

Much like Y/N had anticipated—but hadn't hoped for—Harry acted annoyingly casual. Aside from ogling her the first three seconds of class, he hadn't said anything unrelated to the lesson. And yet, no matter the professionalism he exuded, the air was still thick with a deafening sense of wanting.

His eyes still wandered here and there, often regaining control before he could linger too long. The real problem were Harry's hands, and how the touch of his fingers wrapped around Y/N's waist or wrist sent butterflies to her core. The tension between the two had shifted from anticipatory to something steadier. They'd known each other all the way once before, and now they were left wanting more.

Despite the unspoken vibe between them, Harry had kept his composure. When Y/N realized that he probably wasn't going to deter from the lesson anytime soon, she began to focus a bit better, which led to a lot of verbal praise from Harry. Apart from everything that was going on in Y/N's life, it was nice to see that something was progressing steadily; she'd noticed how much stronger she had gotten in these past weeks.

She was satisfied with herself by the time she gathered her stuff and began to head to the door at the end of class. She hadn't, at all, expected Harry to push the door shut just as she had turned the handle.

It shut with a thud, and Y/N's breath hitched when she felt Harry's body against on hers. The room was suddenly humid, but the cool breath that tickled in Y/N's neck ran a shiver down her spine. She closed her eyes at the feeling of Harry's cock pressing into her ass as his lips grazed her ear.

"I thought we agreed to keep classes strictly professional, hmm?" He asked in a low voice that made Y/N swallow; her throat was suddenly very dry.

She nodded in response, ears ringing from the proximity. "We did."

"Then why are you dressed like you want to be fucked against those mirrors?" Harry retorted with a bit of a grumble in his voice. Y/N's lower stomach fluttered at his tone, and she leaned back against him a bit.

"I'm not." She made a feeble attempt to defend herself, damn well knowing she stood no chance, not with how wet she had already become. "I— I just needed new gym clothes."

Harry let out a sigh, the heat of his breath making every hair on her neck stand up. Y/N had to refrain from gasping as his lips suddenly landed on her neck, planting soft, slow kisses. Biting her lip, she did her best not to moan at the way he sucked on that sensitive spot. Her entire body was heating up as he worked his way up to her ear, and then he stopped.

"Unless you want me to bend you over the bench press, I suggest you don't wear something like that again."

Y/N barely had time to comprehend the words he just said when he backed away. She turned her head, watching in confusion and pure arousal as he walked back towards the speakers as if he hadn't just said what he said. She quickly opened the door and left the building.

…TWO DAYS LATER…

Wednesday passed by in a flash, and when Thursday came around, Y/N had decided it was time for some excitement when she stood in front of her closet in the afternoon. Normally, she'd go to the gym for strength training on Saturday, but Sophie had invited her to a shopping day and then a pub night with Greg and Harry, so she had decided to get in her exercise on Thursday.

Just because she could—and mostly because she was feeling extra bold—she chose to wear another new set. A deep red one, this time. A pair of shorts and a sports bra, a bit of a different model than the brown one. She had bought a matching tight vest as well, knowing she would probably get too insecure to just wear the bra and the shorts. Of course, Y/N turned out to be very predictable, because she didn't feel secure until she zipped up the vest.

Having had a long day at work, Y/N wasn't able to get to the gym until an hour after she'd eaten her late dinner. By the time she arrived, it was 9:15pm. There weren't many people there—members of this gym clearly didn't like to work out at night. Alan, the trainer to whom she had spoken to once, was the only person she recognized from the six who were filling up the room.

When Y/N walked in, one of the personal trainers, Alan, complimented her outfit and she blushed, thanking him before asking if he could help her with an exercise she'd been having difficulties with. Normally, she'd ask Harry, but he was absolutely nowhere in sight. She was beginning to think that maybe he wasn't here at all, and that weighed a bit heavy in her stomach.

Alan was kind, taking his time as he explained it and sat through the exercises with her. After that, he just stuck around as she went on with her exercises, and they talked about everything and nothing as he helped her along.

"Any plans this weekend?" Y/N asked as she did her sets on the leg press. Alan nodded, a faint blush rising to his cheeks.

"I'm going on a date, actually." He confessed a bit shyly. Her eyes widened, pushing against the leg press one more time before locking it in and turning to him.

"That's so great! Where are you going?"

"To the Lotus." He answered, and Y/N nodded her head in approval at the mention of the restaurant. It was a very acclaimed establishment. Y/N had always wanted to go there.

"How did you meet her?" She went on.

"I met her here, actually." He answered, looking around the place as if it had suddenly been coated with magic. Y/N's heart melted at how giddy Alan looked.

"Wow, who said great love stories couldn't start at a gym?" She asked rhetorically, getting up from her seat. Alan laughed, opening his mouth to say something, but he halted when another voice joined the conversation.

"Hello there." Harry walked up to the two, his tone cheery, but Y/N heard a bit of skepticism laced in it as well. The corner of Alan's mouth tugged up.

"Speaking of... I'm gonna go. Have a good night guys." Alan said, throwing a smile at Y/N before walking towards the exit past Harry, but not before stopping to whisper in his ear: " Not too good, eh?"

Harry couldn't suppress his grin as Alan walked off, and Y/N was standing there like a deer in headlights. She had already mentally stored away the expectation of seeing Harry tonight, so it was safe to say she was caught off guard by his appearance.

"Hi." Harry repeated, and Y/N blinked.

"Hi." She said back. Damn it, where had all her confidence from earlier today gone?!

Carefully, she looked around the room. There was someone on the treadmill, a couple others doing exercises with the free weights, and someone using the smith machine. In other words, there were far too many people for her to get all hot and bothered by the owner of the gym. What would people think? They'd probably assume she was some cheap skank who just comes to the gym to hook up with the man who owns it. And the worst part? They wouldn't even be entirely wrong.

To avoid any such assumptions, Y/N took her attention off the gorgeous man in front of her and bent down to grab her bag and water bottle. By the time she stood upright again, she felt like her knees were going to buckle under Harry's intense stare. She smiled awkwardly.

"I'm gonna—" she took a few steps towards the exit, pointing at it with her thumb. But as she passed Harry, he suddenly grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. Y/N's eyes shot to his, heart pounding in her chest.

"This looks an awful lot like what you were wearing on Tuesday." Harry stated lowly, making sure no one else heard what he said. He wasn't standing too close to her, so the conversation didn't look like anything out of the ordinary. It was his threat from Tuesday, though, that thickened the air in the room.

"I— it's red." Y/N stammered.

It's red? Was she serious?

She didn't have too much time to dwell on it, however, as her attention became occupied with Harry's wandering fingers which grabbed her zipper and gently pulled it down, further and further, until her red sports bra was visible. Y/N's stomach swirled in anticipation, even the hint of his touch driving her to madness. Then, without another word, he let go of her arm. Y/N finally looked up at the man who was actively melting her brain into jelly, and swallowed at the nonchalant look on his face. God, he was handsome.

Harry took a step back, curling his fingers in a beckoning gesture. Y/N immediately followed as Harry walked into his office. He waited by the door as she entered, closing it right behind her. The click of the lock wasn't extremely loud, but it sucked the air right out her lungs. Y/N turned around, facing Harry who stood with his hands behind his back.

"Do you get a kick out of pushing my buttons?" He said calmly, sitting down on the black leather couch to Y/N's right. She turned her whole body to him, cheeks flushing at the question.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Y/N said, trying to sound as oblivious as possible. But no matter how much she would've actually sounded innocent, Harry never would've believed her. Her shook his head slightly, a grin slowly appearing on his face. 

"Didn't peck you for a liar, Angel." A glimmer faced in his eyes as he spoke, enjoying this playful part of their dynamic very much. Y/N took a deep breath, doing her very best not to succumb to that damned nickname he had for her. Somehow it had become some kind of kryptonite. Even one mention of it had the ability to send her into some sort of trance where she'd do anything for him.

It was already working, because when Harry muttered out a low "c'mere" she instantly complied, walking over to the couch and placing herself on his lap.

"Look at you," he rasped, his hand roaming over the small of her back. "Coming to my gym, wearing those aggravatingly tight shorts... straight up torturing me."

His hand squeezed her ass, and Y/N's hips automatically jerked forward in response, grinding right onto the bulge beneath Harry's training pants. Her breath hitched, grasping into his shoulder.

"And I just have to watch, knowing I can't just bend you over and fuck you right then and there." He went on. Y/N closed her eyes, envisioning the implied scenario he was laying before her. A small, struggling sound came from the back of her throat.

"You said you would... if I wore something like this again." She said, hoping it reminded him enough to just close down the gym and fulfill that threat of fucking her on the bench press he made two days ago. Harry huffed a laugh.

"Thought you didn't know what I was talking about." He said, and Y/N felt her ears heat up, but she was excited, dying to see what he would do. Harry lifted her up, moving her so she was now straddling his left thigh.

"I gotta stay professional, Angel. I gotta give you your money's worth." He began, his left hand pushing on Y/N's lower back. Slowly, she started moving along, her hips grazing back and forth over his thigh. Her core felt like it was on fire, and the movements soothed the ache in her belly that grew in size every second.

"Is that why you wore this today?" Harry sounded husky, as if he was struggling a bit himself at the moment. Though, he kept calm as he stimulated Y/N's motions. She was being shy, but the rolling of her hips was intensifying with every word that fell from Harry's mischievous lips. "Did you want me to follow through with what I said?"

Y/N looked up at Harry, annoyed by the lack of satisfaction she was getting at the moment. Her gaze exuded exhaustion, and within that exhaustion something altogether more intense; something desperate.

"Don't make promises you aren't going to keep."

She hadn't expected for Harry to react the way he did, but she sure didn't mind him crashing his lips onto her, yanking her towards him in the process. Back arched, she leaned into the kiss as Harry's tongue claimed her mouth.

Harry pulled her closer as he moved down to her neck. Y/N whimpered at the lingering kisses his swollen lips left on her skin, and let him aggressively take off her sports vest. She steadied herself by putting her hands on his shoulders, and began to move her hips again, the closer angle, along with the friction of both their clothing materials making for way better stimulation. Harry took his lips off her and leaned back into the couch, taking in the sight of Y/N working herself up against his leg.

The way he sat there, lips all red and legs widely spread, with that defined jaw and ever so confident look in his eyes... it was singlehandedly the hottest thing she'd ever seen. He looked down at her shorts, observing the small darker patch that had begun to form due to her drenched pussy. On a whim, he reached over and put his thumb against her clit.

"God, you're wet. Soaked all the way through your clothes onto mine." He rasped, watching the scene unfold. Y/N let out a a quiet gasp at the sudden touch on her sensitive clit speeding up the process of reaching an orgasm. He wasn't moving his thumb, merely putting it there as a prop, letting her do all the work. Her hips instinctively moved forward when Harry even teasingly retracted his thumb a few millimeters. She didn't even care that he chuckled at her hopelessness; she only cared about his big hands on hers.

Y/N bit her lip as her movements became stronger, thrown off by the absolute and utter need of a release that had slammed into her the second Harry's thumb grazed over her swollen clit. Never before had she been so close to reach an orgasm from these rather teenage-like manners of stimulation. Riding someone's thigh had never occurred to her before, at least not in a way that could truly satisfy her.

"Doing so good, Angel, riding my thigh like this. You needed it bad, didn't you?" He asked. Y/N nodded her head, giving him a weak verbal confirmation.

"Yes..." she squeezed Harry's shoulder. "Please... move."

But Harry didn't do shit. Instead, he tilted his head innocently, not caring that the girl in front of him was already shaking from her nearing release. "Move?"

"Your thumb!" Y/N exclaimed in frustration, her eyes widening when she realized how loud that sounded and quickly retracting to a whisper. "Please, make me cum."

Harry cursed something under his breath before pushing her hips further into him and his thumb. The stinging presence of his finger made Y/N's mouth fall open, and Harry had to use his free hand to put it over her mouth as he began rubbing circles on her clit. The sounds of her soaked pussy were audible even through her clothes, and Y/N felt herself clench around nothing.

"O— oh! Harry..." She cried, pushing her chest more into his face as she rode out the wave of ecstasy. Harry hummed against her skin, biting her shoulder momentarily before leaning back in order to sing her praises as Y/N came all over his thighs. Movements slowing down, Y/N reveled in the feeling of Harry's large hand wrapped around her mouth as she rode out her orgasm.

"There you go... Fuck, angel." Harry panted, but Y/N barely processed what he said as she came down from her orgasm. It felt like having to land back on earth after shooting into space for a moment.

Harry let Y/N come down for a minute before he let her stand up again. When she did, realization sunk into her, and she began scrambling for her things. Harry was quick to grab her arms, slowing her down a bit.

"Are you okay?" He asked, immediate concern in his voice. Y/N nodded, but didn't meet his eyes.

"What if someone heard?" She said, her chest deflating as she spoke. It was clear to Harry that she felt embarrassed. He leaned down, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"No one heard." He said with such certainty that 99% of Y/N immediately believed him. But there was still that one percent. "Were you uncomfortable doing this?"

Y/N's eyes widened. "No! It's not that. It's just— I don't want to get in trouble or anything."

It was deadly quiet for a second. When Y/N's gaze finally travelled to Harry's, she saw that his lips had spread into the tiniest smile.

"You know I own this place, right?"

"Yes." Y/N said. He tilted his head.

"And you know that means that I'm the boss, right?" He said slowly, and Y/N huffed.

"Yes."

"So... who exactly would we get in trouble with?"

Y/N could tell her was finding it amusing, and she had to fight to keep from chuckling herself. She knew that, if he put it that way, of course it wasn't a big deal, and yet it felt like it. Somehow, Harry could sense that.

"None of my staff are here anymore. I sent them home early because I saw you walking in, and all the other people can't even come here because the entire hallway is staff only." He explained, cupping her face with his hand. "No one is going to think something weird because no one saw or heard anything."

Y/N let out a sigh, comforted by Harry's logical response. Immediately, a pit of guilt began to grow in her stomach. She really hoped he wasn't taking her worry personally.

"I'm sorry." She couldn't help but say, her lips pouted as she waited for the apology to land. There was a slight flicker in Harry's eyes, and if Y/N hadn't been watching him so intently, she wouldn't have noticed it. But she did.

"It's okay." He smiled at her.

Was it, though?

…TWO DAYS LATER…

"You seriously suck at this." Harry laughed as he watched Sophie miss the balls on the pool table again. This was her fourth try, and it wasn't really looking great.

"I hate this game. It's wrinkling my skirt." She backed away from the pool table, handing the stick to her boyfriend, who gave it a try and nailed it in one go. Sophie crossed her arms, walking over to Y/N. "Whatever, we're far too pretty to be concerned with our adequacy at pool."

Y/N lifted her glass. "Damn right."

Y/N was horrible at pool too, but she didn't exactly hate it. It might've had to do with the fact that sucking at this game equaled Harry coming over to help her. She was never even going to try to get better if it meant having Harry bent over her, his perfume coating around her.

She watched as Harry leaned over the table, his rolled-up sleeves emphasizing the veins on his forearms. God, she could look at those forearms all day. Harry had really made Y/N a different person.

After Harry's turn, it was clear that he had won. The girls cheered for him shortly before Sophie downed the rest of her cocktail in one go.

"We need another game. And another drink." She said, placing her glass on the table. Y/N chuckled at her friend. "Unfortunately, my last alcoholic drink of the night."

"Why? Big plans tomorrow?" Y/N wiggled her eyebrows, and Sophie tilted her head.

"More like a big case that I need to read into some more." She sighed, throwing her friend an exhausted smile. Y/N grimaced, putting a sympathetic hand on Sophie's shoulders.

"Damn, poor you." She said, not trying to pay attention to Harry, who was putting all the pool balls back onto the middle of the table for the next people. It was so damn hard to keep her eyes off him.

"I should've just taken a vacation like you. Get in some self care days." Sophie dropped her head on Y/N's shoulder, disappearing from her vision long enough that Y/N could see Harry's head snap towards her.

Suddenly, a burst of energy charged back into Sophie, and she gasped in excitement at spotting something in the back.

"Dartboard!" She exclaimed, grabbing Greg's arm and dragging him to the free dartboard in the corner. There had been people using it ever since the four arrived to the bar, but it seemed that they'd finally left.

Y/N chuckled as she watched her friend pull her boyfriend along, so much that she almost didn't notice Harry, who was now standing behind her. Except that she always noticed, because his presence weighed on her like nothing had ever before. She felt him everywhere, all the time, even if he was across the room. Y/N's eyes did widen when he swiftly turned her around.

"You're taking a vacation?" He asked, his stern voice reflecting the finger digging grip on her waist. Y/N looked back at where Greg and Sophie were standing, cheeks flushing. She knew she was being ridiculous; Sophie definitely knew that Y/N and Harry had been flirty with each other. And yet... she felt just like she did a few days ago, when she thought people might have heard them; as if she was walking on a fragile, glass floor.

Then, suddenly, Harry wrapped his arm around her and Y/N lifted off the ground. She gasped, grasping Harry's shoulders to not fall over his shoulder as he carried her to the side of the bar. By the time her feet reached the ground again, Harry's propped her against a wooden pillar, out of Greg and Sophie's sight.

Y/N playfully slapped Harry's shoulder, cheeks red from the effortlessness with which he had carried her. His face was serious, though.

"I asked you a question, Angel." He said. Y/N felt her heartbeat speed up. He was being very strict right now, and it suited him. She got distracted however, at the sight of Harry's eyes turning a bit frantic as he scanned Y/N's face.

"Did he..." he slowly leaned in. "do something again?"

"What?" Y/N frowned, and then it clicked. "Oh— no! No he didn't do anything."

"You can tell me if he did." He insisted, and by the slight furrow of his brow she could tell that he was still making sure if Y/N was telling the truth. There was a slight pang in her chest; a stinging feeling. Didn't he trust her to tell the truth?

"I know." Y/N frowned. Harry seemed to have been able to read Y/N's thoughts, because he grabbed her face, forcing her to look at him.

"Hey, I believe you. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make it sound like I don't." He assured her, and Y/N closed her eyes for a long second before gazing into Harry's green pair again.

"So," he spoke again, a slight grin creeping up his face. "A vacation, huh?"

Y/N nodded.

"Any big, exciting plans?"

"Uhm, no not really." She shrugged, but worry began to flood inside her brain. Maybe she should've thought about this longer. What was she going to do with all that free time? What if she couldn't find enough things to occupy herself with, and just replay the Oscar situation in her head, over and over again?

"So your schedule is pretty clear for the upcoming days?" Harry's question made her jump from the destructive train of thought and come back to reality. She shook her head in response, and a wicked grin spread across Harry's face. "What are you doing tonight?"

Color rose to Y/N's cheeks, the room becoming warmer with the second. Her eyes widened slightly at the suggestive question, but it also confused her a bit.

"We're playing pool. Well— darts, it seems." Y/N replied, her voice sounding a bit breathy as she carefully scanned Harry's face to see if that was the right answer. He merely hummed in amusement.

"I meant, after this."

Y/N's stomach flipped, and she began fiddling with her hands. "Sleeping?" She swallowed.

Harry could be so intimidating if he wanted to. And the way he was towering over her right now, one arm leaning against the pillar behind her, the other roaming over her waist... it nearly made her stutter.

"With me?"

Y/N had to try not to look like her eyes were bulging out of her sockets as the question rolled off Harry's tongue. For a moment, it crossed her mind that it might be a joke—though she sincerely hoped it wasn't—but he looked deadly serious. Swallowing, she nodded intently.

"Yeah? Wanna come home with me tonight?"

Yes, yes, yes. It was the only word that floated through Y/N's mind, and she was quick to verbally confirm. Harry leaned in, his lips nearing hers at an agonizingly calm speed. His mouth was less than an inch away, grazing over hers, and Y/N suddenly became overwhelmed with the need to lean forward. But she stayed back. Harry was the one in control; she liked it like that.

"Good girl." He whispered, then pushed his hand off the pillar and took a step back. His eyes darted to Greg and Sophia, who had already started a round of their own. He nodded his head towards their friends, and began walking towards them, leaving Y/N stunned and soaked.

****

After an hour of playing darts, and Sophia's surprising victory in the last round which she mocked Harry about relentlessly (Harry won the other five rounds), they all decided to call it a night. Sophia gave Y/N a not-so-mysterious eyebrow wiggle as Harry declared he'd get her home safely, but she refrained from saying anything that would've made Y/N's ears go red.

The entire ride Y/N felt like she was on fire. She couldn't believe she was going to Harry's place; it felt like such a big deal. But then again, maybe it wasn't? After all, she wasn't that experienced in the dating department, so maybe Harry inviting her over wasn't so special. She spent the entire ride debating it, slowly succumbing to her thoughts until Harry put his hand on hers. Like a gush of wind that blows smoke away, Y/N's mind was suddenly very clear.

She stayed close to Harry the entire way up, and she could tell he was holding himself in. The way his fingers dug into her waist as he observed her features in the elevator with this longing look in his eyes... it all pointed to one thing: he wanted her in his bed as soon as possible. That did make Y/N's ears go red.

But as soon as they entered the apartment, Harry was as cool as a cucumber. He walks in front of Y/N, throwing the keys on his kitchen counter before taking off his jacket. She awkwardly followed, giving him a queasy smile as he took her jacket and hung it up back by the door. Y/N's eyes carefully floated over the room; his apartment was pretty.

It had way more personality than she'd expected. Instead of the grey apartment she'd envisioned, Harry's placed consisted entirely out of warm tones. Dark green paint had coated the walls and every single light was warm toned. There were touches of gold here and there; the edges of the coffee table, the picture frames on the wall. It was an inviting space. She didn't notice Harry approaching with a full glass of water.

"Here," he handed it to her. "drink a bit of water."

"Oh, uhm—"Her eyes flicked from Harry to the water, but he quickly interrupted her.

"Wasn't a question. Drink up." He repeated, and although his tone was every bit as serious as intimidating, the glint in his eyes exuded pure amusement. Y/N didn't say a word and followed the orders of the man in front of her, who hummed in approval as she took a couple of sips. When she was done, he took the glass from her and walked back to put it on the kitchen counter. Y/N was left admiring more of his apartment, but the sound of Harry's voice took her out of the house inspection.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped back there, in the bar." He said, waltzing back over to Y/N. "Putting you in the corner and interrogating you like that. I didn't mean to manhandle you or something."

"It's fine:" Y/N shrugged her shoulders, letting Harry scan her face to decide for himself if that answer was sincere. When he noticed that she meant it, the corner of his mouth slowly tugged up. Y/N looked to the ground, and croaked out: "I kinda liked it."

Harry's brows raised in surprise. She could feel his eyes burning through her skull, and yet she still waited for him to move her. Tension in her lower belly swirled when he mindlessly grabbed her chin and pushed her face up. She swallowed at the rough movement.

"Did you now?"

Y/N hummed another yes.

"And what did you like exactly?" He questioned, looking down at her as if she were some type of prey. She could've dropped to her knees then and there just from that look in his sinful eyes.

"The way you grabbed me, carried me, as if it was nothing. As if you— you could just throw me around if you wanted to." She said, straightening her back as she spoke and leaning into him a little bit. Y/N was getting less and less nervous when it came to expressing her thoughts.

"You like the idea of me throwing you around the bedroom." Harry's voice was cocky, which made Y/N want to roll her eyes and at the same time suck him off. He was just so hot whenever he used that certain tone of voice.

Y/N physically felt her ears heat up, and she debated for a second if she should make the confession that was currently burning in her throat. She decided to go for it.

"I've came to the idea of you throwing me around in the bedroom."

It was the first time Y/N had ever seen Harry's eyes widen in shock at something she had said. She swallowed, deeply nervous of what he was going to do once he'd processed her response.

In a flash, Harry had grabbed her by the legs and hoisted her up. Y/N shrieked, throwing her arms around him as she let him carry her to his bedroom. As soon as he'd closed the door, he pushed her against it, immediately pushing his mouth on hers.

Y/N took his tongue gladly, letting it roam her mouth as she did the same with him. She locked her legs tightly around Harry's waist, pulling him closer and feeling the bulge in his pants poke through. The skirt she wore had already ridden up, and nothing but a thong was covering her heat as he began grinding against her.

When he moved his mouth away from her, Y/N almost instinctively tried to go for Harry's neck, but the sudden grip of his hand on her neck pushed her back against the door.

"Not so fast." He tutted her, and while he was being smug, Y/N could tell he was barely able to keep his own composure.

"Do you know about the stoplight system?"

Y/N raised a brow. "Like, on the road?"

Harry chuckled, and Y/N bit her lip in embarrassment. "Like, in the bedroom."

"Right..." She muttered. "Uhm, you mean, colors?"

"Exactly." He hummed, his hand tightening around her neck, sending a flash of wetness down the her pussy. "Green means go, yellow means slow down, red means stop. What color would the grip of my hand be right now?"

Y/N eyed Harry, who eagerly awaited her response. She was growing impatient with him, despite fully understanding the need of explaining these things before getting into it. She was just so horny.

"Neon green." Y/N responded, just wanting him to fuck her. Harry sputtered out a laugh, catching on to her restlessness.

"Neon green can look an awful lot like yellow." He teased, and Y/N huffed.

"Harry..."

"Y/N..." he mocked.

Y/N squinted at the man in front of her. "Are you going to do something or will I just have to keep getting myself off to the idea of getting manhandled by someone?"

That sentence irked him, and Y/N exactly knew what specific part of it too. It worked exactly like she had hoped, because in mere seconds, Harry's pants were down, Y/N panties were shoved aside, and he was sliding himself into her.

"So impatient." He groaned as he began moving in and out of her at a slow pace. Y/N had immediately become a mess, both mentally and physically. The sounds of their bodies intertwining were almost embarrassing; Y/N was absolutely soaking Harry's cock.

Harry's hand around her neck had made Y/N lightheaded, and it made his cock feel even better, which she had thought to be impossible. She held on tight to Harry's shoulders, bouncing against the door and careful not to bump her head.

His thrusts were calm and hard, and extremely deep. Y/N knew it had to do with the length of his cock, but it were his movements that really had him hitting spots that she had never known to exist before. Her nails dug into his shoulders, imagining her guts being rearranged with every time he pounded into her. It had to be.

"You’ve been so talkative this week... Where'd that all go, huh?" He said, trying not to succumb to the euphoria of his own movements as he began driving into Y/N faster.

He must've known she was close to her release, because Harry began to slow down. Frustrated, Y/N opened her eyes, clenching her hands around Harry when he suddenly pulled out of her and put her down on the ground. With great force he turned her around—her back now against him—walked her over to the bed, and pushed her upper body down it. Her right arm was stuck behind her back, kept there by the force of him, while the other gripped onto the sheet.

Y/N felt the heat of his breath as he leaned over and whispered in her ear. "Color?"

"Green."

Her voice must've sounded really desperate, because Harry slipped back into her with a light chuckle. Y/N sighed at the relief of him ridding her from the temporary emptiness, but her breaths soon turned ragged again as Harry's pace increased.

His grip on her became tighter, ensuring she wouldn't move too much. Y/N closed her eyes, feeling Harry's slick cock pound into her at a speed that had her pushed deeper and deeper into the mattress. Gripping at the sheets, soft whines began to fall from her lips, earning a groan from Harry.

"C'mon, tell me how you feel." His encouraging voice sounded over the wet noises that emerged from their colliding bodies. Y/N was already exhausted, and she wasn't even the one doing all the hard work. The stimulation was just... so much. Her legs were losing stability by the second, and she was pretty sure she was going to fall apart in every sense of the word if he just kept going like this.

"So good... I don't think I can— my legs, Harry..." She whimpered, her body jerking forward with every thrust of his. Y/N words were interrupted by a string of whines, and moans and groans. She could barely hold herself together. For a second, it seemed that Harry was going easier on her, his pace softening. He leaned forward and gave her arm a squeeze, but Y/N's brows furrowed at the words that left Harry's mouth.

"You can handle it."

And just like that, he began rocking his hips against her with more force than before. She could quite literally feel the sexual frustration he must've been carrying all week as he pounded into her. Y/N was flabbergasted; she'd expected him to go easier on her. This was anything but easy.

"Color?" He asked again, though Y/N was sure his question stemmed more from wanting to remind her of the existence of the system rather than to actually check whether she wanted to continue. He could feel her clenching around her, and he must've heard the desperate cries of his name.

"Green— shit!" She spoke, words slurred as she pulsed around Harry's cock. Any noise seemed to float into the distance as Y/N slowly got consumed by her high.

"Fuck... there you go." Harry hissed, his hand roaming over her ass. The feeling of his skin caressing hers made Y/N mutter half a word before closing her mouth again. Harry immediately slowed down and leaned over, brushing the hair out of her face.

"You want to say something?"

Y/N looked straight forward, trying her best to meet the piercing gaze of the man above her. His tone was sweet, but everything else about Harry Styles was just plain intimidating.

"Y/N?" He raised his brow, unimpressed. "You've been so good this week, don't go silent on me now."

Slowly, she turned her head to him. Shooting him a nervous laugh, she finally spoke out.

"I just— wanted you to... I wanted to ask if you could like, spank me?"

"You want me to spank you?" Harry said, and Y/N could practically hear the grin in his voice. His hand was immediately back on her ass again, gliding over it with such ease that had her dangerously close to falling apart. Again. When she nodded, he leaned over a little further, his hips tightly moving forward. He definitely did it on purpose, breathy chuckles falling from his lips at the small yelp that escaped Y/N.

"Why?"

Y/N's cheeks flushed. Harry wasn't a stranger to her body or wants or needs anymore, but still it was a task to actually speak her desires out loud.

"Because..." she huffed, shifting slightly under him. "Because your hands are so big, and your rings—"

"My rings?" He interrupted her, sounding genuinely surprised. She hummed in response.

"I think they'd make it sting more, make me feel it a little longer." She confessed, and gasped when Harry's began to pick up his thrusts again. Before she knew it, Y/N was being nailed into the bed again, and her high was getting closer her at a record time.

Then, that anticipated sting spread across her right cheek, aligned with the noise that echoed in the room. Y/N let out a joyous groan, her eyes shut tightly at the impact of Harry's hand. That was going to leave a mark for sure.

"Fuck— such a filthy mouth for such an angel..." He panted, another slap ringing through the room as she took every inch that he slammed into her over and over again.

Y/N's stomach fluttered at the mention of the nickname. A whine slipped from her throat as her pussy began to twitch around Harry's cock. He let out a low laugh, continuing exactly as he was, watching her clutch the sheets and repeat his name in whispered pleas. But his ears perked up when he heard a small demand between the sound of his name.

"Harder, please."

"Don't you wanna come, baby?" He asked. He knew she was on the brink of an orgasm, and changing his pace would only further her from that. She shrugged.

"I just wanna feel you."

"You don't feel me right now?" Harry asked, a bit confused.

Y/N shook her head. "No, I do. I just... I want to feel it after, too."

"Jesus Christ..." Harry threw his head back, letting out a guttural noise. Without another word, he grabbed Y/N's hips with both hands and started rocking into her at a glorious pace.

Y/N jerked violently against the bed, her body wiggling back and forth as Harry stretched her out more than he already had, something which Y/N thought to be impossible. Her ragged breathing made it hard to suppress the moans that Harry pushed out of her with every frantic thrust.

"You're close, aren't you?" Harry said, his words as erratic as his breathing. "Knew you liked it rough, just had to pry it out of you, didn't I?"

Y/N moaned out a yes, but her verbal confirmation wasn't needed with the way she was pulsing around Harry.

"Being grabbed like a ragdoll, getting fucked like a whore... all while looking divine. Must've been made especially for me, angel." He hissed, landing another slap on Y/N's ass.

That was enough for her to fall apart, if not too much. With a loud cry of his name, Y/N reached her pinnacle, spasming under him. Harry whined, letting out a shuddering breath as he pulled out and let his sperm paint her back.

Y/N was sure nothing could ever feel better than this, and that notion in her head as she came down from her high scared her a bit. Nevertheless, she pushed it to the side as Harry moved behind her. She stayed still, physically and mentally unable to move.

She closed her eyes as Harry wiped his cum off her back with a towel, and smiled at his whispered praise. He was so sweet afterwards, much like the last time. It seemed to be easy for him; to switch from that dominant, ice cold man to this sweet and kind one, and then it flashed through Y/N's mind.

Was he that good at it because he'd had a lot of practice? With other women?

It wouldn't be crazy. If anything, it would be far from crazy. Harry was extremely handsome, and confident. He surely knew what he was doing because he's done it a lot of times. But that conclusion seemed to absolutely disgust Y/N. Her mind went back to that ex of Harry's she met at Sophie's party; was she one of few? Or one of many?

"Y/N?"

Y/N quickly snapped her head to Harry, who was standing in front of her with a glass of water. When did she sit up? She took the glass, and Harry seated himself on the edge of the bed.

"You okay, Angel?"

She nodded, looking into his beautiful green eyes. What was she thinking about again?

"You don't have to be anywhere in the upcoming days, right?" Harry stroked her knee as Y/N drank the entire glass of water in one go. Putting the glass on the night stand, she shook her head, and Harry grinned.

"Alright, you'll be staying here, then."

It started off Monday. Y/N had finally tied the knot in her head: she was going to quit. It was a heavy and haunting decision, but it was her only option.

And since she was going to quiet anyway, she had decided to take make some use of her paid leave. Very impulsively, she had requested to take five days off. Unfortunately, since it was so last minute, she couldn't immediately be free from the office, and had to brave through one more week before she could take nine days to herself.

Despite being able to see it in the agenda, it was common courtesy to inform your manager of your days off. Y/N had already told Sophie and she was thrilled, raving on and on about how she deserved to have some time off. But until Friday came around, she still had to go to the office, and she still had to face Oscar every day.

Ever since his fall-out at her desk, Y/N had been in a constant state of stress. His office was still across from her desk, and her skin still prickled when she felt him look at her through his office windows.

In the first week after she'd punched Oscar, she was so stressed that she threw up in the bathroom and lost her vision. She was forced to sit on the floor for thirty minutes before she was able to stand up again. Fortunately, there was only a total of two times where she'd heaved her breakfast straight into the toilet. The other time was when he just so happened to enter the file room right after Y/N had gone in there. There was no one else in the room, and she was paralyzed with fear. She jumped at the way he harshly dropped a box of files on the table in front of her, and her skin paled at the constant feeling of his eyes on her. After that, Y/N never again walked into an empty room.

While she wasn't vomiting or unable to see on a daily basis, the stress still made her body tremble all day and collapse from exhaustion once she got home. This week was of course no different. In fact, it might even be worse, considering she'd promised herself to inform HR of her resignation.

Monday felt like all of them did: long and dreadful. Sophie stopped by her desk to bring her a cinnamon oat latte and a chocolate chip muffin she'd picked up on the way to the office, and it made the heap of paperwork a bit easier to sort through and fill out.

Y/N never ended up going to HR that Monday. She walked back and forth to their office about five times. The fifth and final time, she was just about to knock on the door when she spotted Oscar at the end of the hallway. She noticed his pace quicken, and in state of panic and fear, she turned around and hurried to the women's restroom where she vomited out everything that had given her fuel for the day.

Tuesday evening, at around 4:30pm she finally gathered the courage to plan a meeting with HR. There was only one person left in the office, and while her stomach dropped when the man told her they had a free spot next week—the one week she wasn't there—she calmly nodded when he suggested a later date. He had asked her if it was urgent—maybe having noticed her shaking hands or just her nervous demeanor—but she was still on the fence about mentioning Oscar in regards to her leaving, so she ensured the man that Wednesday in two weeks was fine.

She left the office feeling a little lighter, and as she changed into her gym clothes, the stress from work floated away and was swiftly replaced with the one distraction intense enough to work: Harry.

After having had the best sex of her life last week, Y/N was very jittery about seeing Harry again. She knew he was a professional and wouldn't discard the training to take her to his apartment or just take her right there (although a girl could dream). But still, she was still excited to see him, and for him to see her. She really liked the way he looked at her.

So she did what she reckoned every girl with a gym crush would do: buy some new work-out clothes. Y/N was properly blushing at the multiple sets she added to her cart. When she put on her new matching brown one on Tuesday, she'd actually felt really hot.

Both nervous and excited, she walked into the gym that Tuesday evening. She'd been wearing a large vest and sweatpants to cover the outfit in case she'd suddenly feel self-conscious. Harry smiled when he saw Y/N, waving at her from the desk before continuing his conversation with one of the women from the self-defense classes. Y/N was early, so she went ahead and entered the training room to put her stuff in the corner by the bench. She took a deep breath before she took off her vest. Observing herself in the mirror, she adjusted her ponytail while waiting for Harry to arrive. 

Her heart thumped when she heard the door click shut, and upon turning around, the first thing she noticed were Harry's eyes subtly raking over her body. He didn't say anything as he walked over to the speakers, although she thought she saw a slight shake of his head.

Much like Y/N had anticipated—but hadn't hoped for—Harry acted annoyingly casual. Aside from ogling her the first three seconds of class, he hadn't said anything unrelated to the lesson. And yet, no matter the professionalism he exuded, the air was still thick with a deafening sense of wanting.

His eyes still wandered here and there, often regaining control before he could linger too long. The real problem were Harry's hands, and how the touch of his fingers wrapped around Y/N's waist or wrist sent butterflies to her core. The tension between the two had shifted from anticipatory to something steadier. They'd known each other all the way once before, and now they were left wanting more.

Despite the unspoken vibe between them, Harry had kept his composure. When Y/N realized that he probably wasn't going to deter from the lesson anytime soon, she began to focus a bit better, which led to a lot of verbal praise from Harry. Apart from everything that was going on in Y/N's life, it was nice to see that something was progressing steadily; she'd noticed how much stronger she had gotten in these past weeks.

She was satisfied with herself by the time she gathered her stuff and began to head to the door at the end of class. She hadn't, at all, expected Harry to push the door shut just as she had turned the handle.

It shut with a thud, and Y/N's breath hitched when she felt Harry's body against on hers. The room was suddenly humid, but the cool breath that tickled in Y/N's neck ran a shiver down her spine. She closed her eyes at the feeling of Harry's cock pressing into her ass as his lips grazed her ear.

"I thought we agreed to keep classes strictly professional, hmm?" He asked in a low voice that made Y/N swallow; her throat was suddenly very dry.

She nodded in response, ears ringing from the proximity. "We did."

"Then why are you dressed like you want to be fucked against those mirrors?" Harry retorted with a bit of a grumble in his voice. Y/N's lower stomach fluttered at his tone, and she leaned back against him a bit.

"I'm not." She made a feeble attempt to defend herself, damn well knowing she stood no chance, not with how wet she had already become. "I— I just needed new gym clothes."

Harry let out a sigh, the heat of his breath making every hair on her neck stand up. Y/N had to refrain from gasping as his lips suddenly landed on her neck, planting soft, slow kisses. Biting her lip, she did her best not to moan at the way he sucked on that sensitive spot. Her entire body was heating up as he worked his way up to her ear, and then he stopped.

"Unless you want me to bend you over the bench press, I suggest you don't wear something like that again."

Y/N barely had time to comprehend the words he just said when he backed away. She turned her head, watching in confusion and pure arousal as he walked back towards the speakers as if he hadn't just said what he said. She quickly opened the door and left the building.

…TWO DAYS LATER…

Wednesday passed by in a flash, and when Thursday came around, Y/N had decided it was time for some excitement when she stood in front of her closet in the afternoon. Normally, she'd go to the gym for strength training on Saturday, but Sophie had invited her to a shopping day and then a pub night with Greg and Harry, so she had decided to get in her exercise on Thursday.

Just because she could—and mostly because she was feeling extra bold—she chose to wear another new set. A deep red one, this time. A pair of shorts and a sports bra, a bit of a different model than the brown one. She had bought a matching tight vest as well, knowing she would probably get too insecure to just wear the bra and the shorts. Of course, Y/N turned out to be very predictable, because she didn't feel secure until she zipped up the vest.

Having had a long day at work, Y/N wasn't able to get to the gym until an hour after she'd eaten her late dinner. By the time she arrived, it was 9:15pm. There weren't many people there—members of this gym clearly didn't like to work out at night. Alan, the trainer to whom she had spoken to once, was the only person she recognized from the six who were filling up the room.

When Y/N walked in, one of the personal trainers, Alan, complimented her outfit and she blushed, thanking him before asking if he could help her with an exercise she'd been having difficulties with. Normally, she'd ask Harry, but he was absolutely nowhere in sight. She was beginning to think that maybe he wasn't here at all, and that weighed a bit heavy in her stomach.

Alan was kind, taking his time as he explained it and sat through the exercises with her. After that, he just stuck around as she went on with her exercises, and they talked about everything and nothing as he helped her along.

"Any plans this weekend?" Y/N asked as she did her sets on the leg press. Alan nodded, a faint blush rising to his cheeks.

"I'm going on a date, actually." He confessed a bit shyly. Her eyes widened, pushing against the leg press one more time before locking it in and turning to him.

"That's so great! Where are you going?"

"To the Lotus." He answered, and Y/N nodded her head in approval at the mention of the restaurant. It was a very acclaimed establishment. Y/N had always wanted to go there.

"How did you meet her?" She went on.

"I met her here, actually." He answered, looking around the place as if it had suddenly been coated with magic. Y/N's heart melted at how giddy Alan looked.

"Wow, who said great love stories couldn't start at a gym?" She asked rhetorically, getting up from her seat. Alan laughed, opening his mouth to say something, but he halted when another voice joined the conversation.

"Hello there." Harry walked up to the two, his tone cheery, but Y/N heard a bit of skepticism laced in it as well. The corner of Alan's mouth tugged up.

"Speaking of... I'm gonna go. Have a good night guys." Alan said, throwing a smile at Y/N before walking towards the exit past Harry, but not before stopping to whisper in his ear: " Not too good, eh?"

Harry couldn't suppress his grin as Alan walked off, and Y/N was standing there like a deer in headlights. She had already mentally stored away the expectation of seeing Harry tonight, so it was safe to say she was caught off guard by his appearance.

"Hi." Harry repeated, and Y/N blinked.

"Hi." She said back. Damn it, where had all her confidence from earlier today gone?!

Carefully, she looked around the room. There was someone on the treadmill, a couple others doing exercises with the free weights, and someone using the smith machine. In other words, there were far too many people for her to get all hot and bothered by the owner of the gym. What would people think? They'd probably assume she was some cheap skank who just comes to the gym to hook up with the man who owns it. And the worst part? They wouldn't even be entirely wrong.

To avoid any such assumptions, Y/N took her attention off the gorgeous man in front of her and bent down to grab her bag and water bottle. By the time she stood upright again, she felt like her knees were going to buckle under Harry's intense stare. She smiled awkwardly.

"I'm gonna—" she took a few steps towards the exit, pointing at it with her thumb. But as she passed Harry, he suddenly grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. Y/N's eyes shot to his, heart pounding in her chest.

"This looks an awful lot like what you were wearing on Tuesday." Harry stated lowly, making sure no one else heard what he said. He wasn't standing too close to her, so the conversation didn't look like anything out of the ordinary. It was his threat from Tuesday, though, that thickened the air in the room.

"I— it's red." Y/N stammered.

It's red? Was she serious?

She didn't have too much time to dwell on it, however, as her attention became occupied with Harry's wandering fingers which grabbed her zipper and gently pulled it down, further and further, until her red sports bra was visible. Y/N's stomach swirled in anticipation, even the hint of his touch driving her to madness. Then, without another word, he let go of her arm. Y/N finally looked up at the man who was actively melting her brain into jelly, and swallowed at the nonchalant look on his face. God, he was handsome.

Harry took a step back, curling his fingers in a beckoning gesture. Y/N immediately followed as Harry walked into his office. He waited by the door as she entered, closing it right behind her. The click of the lock wasn't extremely loud, but it sucked the air right out her lungs. Y/N turned around, facing Harry who stood with his hands behind his back.

"Do you get a kick out of pushing my buttons?" He said calmly, sitting down on the black leather couch to Y/N's right. She turned her whole body to him, cheeks flushing at the question.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Y/N said, trying to sound as oblivious as possible. But no matter how much she would've actually sounded innocent, Harry never would've believed her. Her shook his head slightly, a grin slowly appearing on his face. 

"Didn't peck you for a liar, Angel." A glimmer faced in his eyes as he spoke, enjoying this playful part of their dynamic very much. Y/N took a deep breath, doing her very best not to succumb to that damned nickname he had for her. Somehow it had become some kind of kryptonite. Even one mention of it had the ability to send her into some sort of trance where she'd do anything for him.

It was already working, because when Harry muttered out a low "c'mere" she instantly complied, walking over to the couch and placing herself on his lap.

"Look at you," he rasped, his hand roaming over the small of her back. "Coming to my gym, wearing those aggravatingly tight shorts... straight up torturing me."

His hand squeezed her ass, and Y/N's hips automatically jerked forward in response, grinding right onto the bulge beneath Harry's training pants. Her breath hitched, grasping into his shoulder.

"And I just have to watch, knowing I can't just bend you over and fuck you right then and there." He went on. Y/N closed her eyes, envisioning the implied scenario he was laying before her. A small, struggling sound came from the back of her throat.

"You said you would... if I wore something like this again." She said, hoping it reminded him enough to just close down the gym and fulfill that threat of fucking her on the bench press he made two days ago. Harry huffed a laugh.

"Thought you didn't know what I was talking about." He said, and Y/N felt her ears heat up, but she was excited, dying to see what he would do. Harry lifted her up, moving her so she was now straddling his left thigh.

"I gotta stay professional, Angel. I gotta give you your money's worth." He began, his left hand pushing on Y/N's lower back. Slowly, she started moving along, her hips grazing back and forth over his thigh. Her core felt like it was on fire, and the movements soothed the ache in her belly that grew in size every second.

"Is that why you wore this today?" Harry sounded husky, as if he was struggling a bit himself at the moment. Though, he kept calm as he stimulated Y/N's motions. She was being shy, but the rolling of her hips was intensifying with every word that fell from Harry's mischievous lips. "Did you want me to follow through with what I said?"

Y/N looked up at Harry, annoyed by the lack of satisfaction she was getting at the moment. Her gaze exuded exhaustion, and within that exhaustion something altogether more intense; something desperate.

"Don't make promises you aren't going to keep."

She hadn't expected for Harry to react the way he did, but she sure didn't mind him crashing his lips onto her, yanking her towards him in the process. Back arched, she leaned into the kiss as Harry's tongue claimed her mouth.

Harry pulled her closer as he moved down to her neck. Y/N whimpered at the lingering kisses his swollen lips left on her skin, and let him aggressively take off her sports vest. She steadied herself by putting her hands on his shoulders, and began to move her hips again, the closer angle, along with the friction of both their clothing materials making for way better stimulation. Harry took his lips off her and leaned back into the couch, taking in the sight of Y/N working herself up against his leg.

The way he sat there, lips all red and legs widely spread, with that defined jaw and ever so confident look in his eyes... it was singlehandedly the hottest thing she'd ever seen. He looked down at her shorts, observing the small darker patch that had begun to form due to her drenched pussy. On a whim, he reached over and put his thumb against her clit.

"God, you're wet. Soaked all the way through your clothes onto mine." He rasped, watching the scene unfold. Y/N let out a a quiet gasp at the sudden touch on her sensitive clit speeding up the process of reaching an orgasm. He wasn't moving his thumb, merely putting it there as a prop, letting her do all the work. Her hips instinctively moved forward when Harry even teasingly retracted his thumb a few millimeters. She didn't even care that he chuckled at her hopelessness; she only cared about his big hands on hers.

Y/N bit her lip as her movements became stronger, thrown off by the absolute and utter need of a release that had slammed into her the second Harry's thumb grazed over her swollen clit. Never before had she been so close to reach an orgasm from these rather teenage-like manners of stimulation. Riding someone's thigh had never occurred to her before, at least not in a way that could truly satisfy her.

"Doing so good, Angel, riding my thigh like this. You needed it bad, didn't you?" He asked. Y/N nodded her head, giving him a weak verbal confirmation.

"Yes..." she squeezed Harry's shoulder. "Please... move."

But Harry didn't do shit. Instead, he tilted his head innocently, not caring that the girl in front of him was already shaking from her nearing release. "Move?"

"Your thumb!" Y/N exclaimed in frustration, her eyes widening when she realized how loud that sounded and quickly retracting to a whisper. "Please, make me cum."

Harry cursed something under his breath before pushing her hips further into him and his thumb. The stinging presence of his finger made Y/N's mouth fall open, and Harry had to use his free hand to put it over her mouth as he began rubbing circles on her clit. The sounds of her soaked pussy were audible even through her clothes, and Y/N felt herself clench around nothing.

"O— oh! Harry..." She cried, pushing her chest more into his face as she rode out the wave of ecstasy. Harry hummed against her skin, biting her shoulder momentarily before leaning back in order to sing her praises as Y/N came all over his thighs. Movements slowing down, Y/N reveled in the feeling of Harry's large hand wrapped around her mouth as she rode out her orgasm.

"There you go... Fuck, angel." Harry panted, but Y/N barely processed what he said as she came down from her orgasm. It felt like having to land back on earth after shooting into space for a moment.

Harry let Y/N come down for a minute before he let her stand up again. When she did, realization sunk into her, and she began scrambling for her things. Harry was quick to grab her arms, slowing her down a bit.

"Are you okay?" He asked, immediate concern in his voice. Y/N nodded, but didn't meet his eyes.

"What if someone heard?" She said, her chest deflating as she spoke. It was clear to Harry that she felt embarrassed. He leaned down, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"No one heard." He said with such certainty that 99% of Y/N immediately believed him. But there was still that one percent. "Were you uncomfortable doing this?"

Y/N's eyes widened. "No! It's not that. It's just— I don't want to get in trouble or anything."

It was deadly quiet for a second. When Y/N's gaze finally travelled to Harry's, she saw that his lips had spread into the tiniest smile.

"You know I own this place, right?"

"Yes." Y/N said. He tilted his head.

"And you know that means that I'm the boss, right?" He said slowly, and Y/N huffed.

"Yes."

"So... who exactly would we get in trouble with?"

Y/N could tell her was finding it amusing, and she had to fight to keep from chuckling herself. She knew that, if he put it that way, of course it wasn't a big deal, and yet it felt like it. Somehow, Harry could sense that.

"None of my staff are here anymore. I sent them home early because I saw you walking in, and all the other people can't even come here because the entire hallway is staff only." He explained, cupping her face with his hand. "No one is going to think something weird because no one saw or heard anything."

Y/N let out a sigh, comforted by Harry's logical response. Immediately, a pit of guilt began to grow in her stomach. She really hoped he wasn't taking her worry personally.

"I'm sorry." She couldn't help but say, her lips pouted as she waited for the apology to land. There was a slight flicker in Harry's eyes, and if Y/N hadn't been watching him so intently, she wouldn't have noticed it. But she did.

"It's okay." He smiled at her.

Was it, though?

…TWO DAYS LATER…

"You seriously suck at this." Harry laughed as he watched Sophie miss the balls on the pool table again. This was her fourth try, and it wasn't really looking great.

"I hate this game. It's wrinkling my skirt." She backed away from the pool table, handing the stick to her boyfriend, who gave it a try and nailed it in one go. Sophie crossed her arms, walking over to Y/N. "Whatever, we're far too pretty to be concerned with our adequacy at pool."

Y/N lifted her glass. "Damn right."

Y/N was horrible at pool too, but she didn't exactly hate it. It might've had to do with the fact that sucking at this game equaled Harry coming over to help her. She was never even going to try to get better if it meant having Harry bent over her, his perfume coating around her.

She watched as Harry leaned over the table, his rolled-up sleeves emphasizing the veins on his forearms. God, she could look at those forearms all day. Harry had really made Y/N a different person.

After Harry's turn, it was clear that he had won. The girls cheered for him shortly before Sophie downed the rest of her cocktail in one go.

"We need another game. And another drink." She said, placing her glass on the table. Y/N chuckled at her friend. "Unfortunately, my last alcoholic drink of the night."

"Why? Big plans tomorrow?" Y/N wiggled her eyebrows, and Sophie tilted her head.

"More like a big case that I need to read into some more." She sighed, throwing her friend an exhausted smile. Y/N grimaced, putting a sympathetic hand on Sophie's shoulders.

"Damn, poor you." She said, not trying to pay attention to Harry, who was putting all the pool balls back onto the middle of the table for the next people. It was so damn hard to keep her eyes off him.

"I should've just taken a vacation like you. Get in some self care days." Sophie dropped her head on Y/N's shoulder, disappearing from her vision long enough that Y/N could see Harry's head snap towards her.

Suddenly, a burst of energy charged back into Sophie, and she gasped in excitement at spotting something in the back.

"Dartboard!" She exclaimed, grabbing Greg's arm and dragging him to the free dartboard in the corner. There had been people using it ever since the four arrived to the bar, but it seemed that they'd finally left.

Y/N chuckled as she watched her friend pull her boyfriend along, so much that she almost didn't notice Harry, who was now standing behind her. Except that she always noticed, because his presence weighed on her like nothing had ever before. She felt him everywhere, all the time, even if he was across the room. Y/N's eyes did widen when he swiftly turned her around.

"You're taking a vacation?" He asked, his stern voice reflecting the finger digging grip on her waist. Y/N looked back at where Greg and Sophie were standing, cheeks flushing. She knew she was being ridiculous; Sophie definitely knew that Y/N and Harry had been flirty with each other. And yet... she felt just like she did a few days ago, when she thought people might have heard them; as if she was walking on a fragile, glass floor.

Then, suddenly, Harry wrapped his arm around her and Y/N lifted off the ground. She gasped, grasping Harry's shoulders to not fall over his shoulder as he carried her to the side of the bar. By the time her feet reached the ground again, Harry's propped her against a wooden pillar, out of Greg and Sophie's sight.

Y/N playfully slapped Harry's shoulder, cheeks red from the effortlessness with which he had carried her. His face was serious, though.

"I asked you a question, Angel." He said. Y/N felt her heartbeat speed up. He was being very strict right now, and it suited him. She got distracted however, at the sight of Harry's eyes turning a bit frantic as he scanned Y/N's face.

"Did he..." he slowly leaned in. "do something again?"

"What?" Y/N frowned, and then it clicked. "Oh— no! No he didn't do anything."

"You can tell me if he did." He insisted, and by the slight furrow of his brow she could tell that he was still making sure if Y/N was telling the truth. There was a slight pang in her chest; a stinging feeling. Didn't he trust her to tell the truth?

"I know." Y/N frowned. Harry seemed to have been able to read Y/N's thoughts, because he grabbed her face, forcing her to look at him.

"Hey, I believe you. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make it sound like I don't." He assured her, and Y/N closed her eyes for a long second before gazing into Harry's green pair again.

"So," he spoke again, a slight grin creeping up his face. "A vacation, huh?"

Y/N nodded.

"Any big, exciting plans?"

"Uhm, no not really." She shrugged, but worry began to flood inside her brain. Maybe she should've thought about this longer. What was she going to do with all that free time? What if she couldn't find enough things to occupy herself with, and just replay the Oscar situation in her head, over and over again?

"So your schedule is pretty clear for the upcoming days?" Harry's question made her jump from the destructive train of thought and come back to reality. She shook her head in response, and a wicked grin spread across Harry's face. "What are you doing tonight?"

Color rose to Y/N's cheeks, the room becoming warmer with the second. Her eyes widened slightly at the suggestive question, but it also confused her a bit.

"We're playing pool. Well— darts, it seems." Y/N replied, her voice sounding a bit breathy as she carefully scanned Harry's face to see if that was the right answer. He merely hummed in amusement.

"I meant, after this."

Y/N's stomach flipped, and she began fiddling with her hands. "Sleeping?" She swallowed.

Harry could be so intimidating if he wanted to. And the way he was towering over her right now, one arm leaning against the pillar behind her, the other roaming over her waist... it nearly made her stutter.

"With me?"

Y/N had to try not to look like her eyes were bulging out of her sockets as the question rolled off Harry's tongue. For a moment, it crossed her mind that it might be a joke—though she sincerely hoped it wasn't—but he looked deadly serious. Swallowing, she nodded intently.

"Yeah? Wanna come home with me tonight?"

Yes, yes, yes. It was the only word that floated through Y/N's mind, and she was quick to verbally confirm. Harry leaned in, his lips nearing hers at an agonizingly calm speed. His mouth was less than an inch away, grazing over hers, and Y/N suddenly became overwhelmed with the need to lean forward. But she stayed back. Harry was the one in control; she liked it like that.

"Good girl." He whispered, then pushed his hand off the pillar and took a step back. His eyes darted to Greg and Sophia, who had already started a round of their own. He nodded his head towards their friends, and began walking towards them, leaving Y/N stunned and soaked.

****

After an hour of playing darts, and Sophia's surprising victory in the last round which she mocked Harry about relentlessly (Harry won the other five rounds), they all decided to call it a night. Sophia gave Y/N a not-so-mysterious eyebrow wiggle as Harry declared he'd get her home safely, but she refrained from saying anything that would've made Y/N's ears go red.

The entire ride Y/N felt like she was on fire. She couldn't believe she was going to Harry's place; it felt like such a big deal. But then again, maybe it wasn't? After all, she wasn't that experienced in the dating department, so maybe Harry inviting her over wasn't so special. She spent the entire ride debating it, slowly succumbing to her thoughts until Harry put his hand on hers. Like a gush of wind that blows smoke away, Y/N's mind was suddenly very clear.

She stayed close to Harry the entire way up, and she could tell he was holding himself in. The way his fingers dug into her waist as he observed her features in the elevator with this longing look in his eyes... it all pointed to one thing: he wanted her in his bed as soon as possible. That did make Y/N's ears go red.

But as soon as they entered the apartment, Harry was as cool as a cucumber. He walks in front of Y/N, throwing the keys on his kitchen counter before taking off his jacket. She awkwardly followed, giving him a queasy smile as he took her jacket and hung it up back by the door. Y/N's eyes carefully floated over the room; his apartment was pretty.

It had way more personality than she'd expected. Instead of the grey apartment she'd envisioned, Harry's placed consisted entirely out of warm tones. Dark green paint had coated the walls and every single light was warm toned. There were touches of gold here and there; the edges of the coffee table, the picture frames on the wall. It was an inviting space. She didn't notice Harry approaching with a full glass of water.

"Here," he handed it to her. "drink a bit of water."

"Oh, uhm—"Her eyes flicked from Harry to the water, but he quickly interrupted her.

"Wasn't a question. Drink up." He repeated, and although his tone was every bit as serious as intimidating, the glint in his eyes exuded pure amusement. Y/N didn't say a word and followed the orders of the man in front of her, who hummed in approval as she took a couple of sips. When she was done, he took the glass from her and walked back to put it on the kitchen counter. Y/N was left admiring more of his apartment, but the sound of Harry's voice took her out of the house inspection.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped back there, in the bar." He said, waltzing back over to Y/N. "Putting you in the corner and interrogating you like that. I didn't mean to manhandle you or something."

"It's fine:" Y/N shrugged her shoulders, letting Harry scan her face to decide for himself if that answer was sincere. When he noticed that she meant it, the corner of his mouth slowly tugged up. Y/N looked to the ground, and croaked out: "I kinda liked it."

Harry's brows raised in surprise. She could feel his eyes burning through her skull, and yet she still waited for him to move her. Tension in her lower belly swirled when he mindlessly grabbed her chin and pushed her face up. She swallowed at the rough movement.

"Did you now?"

Y/N hummed another yes.

"And what did you like exactly?" He questioned, looking down at her as if she were some type of prey. She could've dropped to her knees then and there just from that look in his sinful eyes.

"The way you grabbed me, carried me, as if it was nothing. As if you— you could just throw me around if you wanted to." She said, straightening her back as she spoke and leaning into him a little bit. Y/N was getting less and less nervous when it came to expressing her thoughts.

"You like the idea of me throwing you around the bedroom." Harry's voice was cocky, which made Y/N want to roll her eyes and at the same time suck him off. He was just so hot whenever he used that certain tone of voice.

Y/N physically felt her ears heat up, and she debated for a second if she should make the confession that was currently burning in her throat. She decided to go for it.

"I've came to the idea of you throwing me around in the bedroom."

It was the first time Y/N had ever seen Harry's eyes widen in shock at something she had said. She swallowed, deeply nervous of what he was going to do once he'd processed her response.

In a flash, Harry had grabbed her by the legs and hoisted her up. Y/N shrieked, throwing her arms around him as she let him carry her to his bedroom. As soon as he'd closed the door, he pushed her against it, immediately pushing his mouth on hers.

Y/N took his tongue gladly, letting it roam her mouth as she did the same with him. She locked her legs tightly around Harry's waist, pulling him closer and feeling the bulge in his pants poke through. The skirt she wore had already ridden up, and nothing but a thong was covering her heat as he began grinding against her.

When he moved his mouth away from her, Y/N almost instinctively tried to go for Harry's neck, but the sudden grip of his hand on her neck pushed her back against the door.

"Not so fast." He tutted her, and while he was being smug, Y/N could tell he was barely able to keep his own composure.

"Do you know about the stoplight system?"

Y/N raised a brow. "Like, on the road?"

Harry chuckled, and Y/N bit her lip in embarrassment. "Like, in the bedroom."

"Right..." She muttered. "Uhm, you mean, colors?"

"Exactly." He hummed, his hand tightening around her neck, sending a flash of wetness down the her pussy. "Green means go, yellow means slow down, red means stop. What color would the grip of my hand be right now?"

Y/N eyed Harry, who eagerly awaited her response. She was growing impatient with him, despite fully understanding the need of explaining these things before getting into it. She was just so horny.

"Neon green." Y/N responded, just wanting him to fuck her. Harry sputtered out a laugh, catching on to her restlessness.

"Neon green can look an awful lot like yellow." He teased, and Y/N huffed.

"Harry..."

"Y/N..." he mocked.

Y/N squinted at the man in front of her. "Are you going to do something or will I just have to keep getting myself off to the idea of getting manhandled by someone?"

That sentence irked him, and Y/N exactly knew what specific part of it too. It worked exactly like she had hoped, because in mere seconds, Harry's pants were down, Y/N panties were shoved aside, and he was sliding himself into her.

"So impatient." He groaned as he began moving in and out of her at a slow pace. Y/N had immediately become a mess, both mentally and physically. The sounds of their bodies intertwining were almost embarrassing; Y/N was absolutely soaking Harry's cock.

Harry's hand around her neck had made Y/N lightheaded, and it made his cock feel even better, which she had thought to be impossible. She held on tight to Harry's shoulders, bouncing against the door and careful not to bump her head.

His thrusts were calm and hard, and extremely deep. Y/N knew it had to do with the length of his cock, but it were his movements that really had him hitting spots that she had never known to exist before. Her nails dug into his shoulders, imagining her guts being rearranged with every time he pounded into her. It had to be.

"You’ve been so talkative this week... Where'd that all go, huh?" He said, trying not to succumb to the euphoria of his own movements as he began driving into Y/N faster.

He must've known she was close to her release, because Harry began to slow down. Frustrated, Y/N opened her eyes, clenching her hands around Harry when he suddenly pulled out of her and put her down on the ground. With great force he turned her around—her back now against him—walked her over to the bed, and pushed her upper body down it. Her right arm was stuck behind her back, kept there by the force of him, while the other gripped onto the sheet.

Y/N felt the heat of his breath as he leaned over and whispered in her ear. "Color?"

"Green."

Her voice must've sounded really desperate, because Harry slipped back into her with a light chuckle. Y/N sighed at the relief of him ridding her from the temporary emptiness, but her breaths soon turned ragged again as Harry's pace increased.

His grip on her became tighter, ensuring she wouldn't move too much. Y/N closed her eyes, feeling Harry's slick cock pound into her at a speed that had her pushed deeper and deeper into the mattress. Gripping at the sheets, soft whines began to fall from her lips, earning a groan from Harry.

"C'mon, tell me how you feel." His encouraging voice sounded over the wet noises that emerged from their colliding bodies. Y/N was already exhausted, and she wasn't even the one doing all the hard work. The stimulation was just... so much. Her legs were losing stability by the second, and she was pretty sure she was going to fall apart in every sense of the word if he just kept going like this.

"So good... I don't think I can— my legs, Harry..." She whimpered, her body jerking forward with every thrust of his. Y/N words were interrupted by a string of whines, and moans and groans. She could barely hold herself together. For a second, it seemed that Harry was going easier on her, his pace softening. He leaned forward and gave her arm a squeeze, but Y/N's brows furrowed at the words that left Harry's mouth.

"You can handle it."

And just like that, he began rocking his hips against her with more force than before. She could quite literally feel the sexual frustration he must've been carrying all week as he pounded into her. Y/N was flabbergasted; she'd expected him to go easier on her. This was anything but easy.

"Color?" He asked again, though Y/N was sure his question stemmed more from wanting to remind her of the existence of the system rather than to actually check whether she wanted to continue. He could feel her clenching around her, and he must've heard the desperate cries of his name.

"Green— shit!" She spoke, words slurred as she pulsed around Harry's cock. Any noise seemed to float into the distance as Y/N slowly got consumed by her high.

"Fuck... there you go." Harry hissed, his hand roaming over her ass. The feeling of his skin caressing hers made Y/N mutter half a word before closing her mouth again. Harry immediately slowed down and leaned over, brushing the hair out of her face.

"You want to say something?"

Y/N looked straight forward, trying her best to meet the piercing gaze of the man above her. His tone was sweet, but everything else about Harry Styles was just plain intimidating.

"Y/N?" He raised his brow, unimpressed. "You've been so good this week, don't go silent on me now."

Slowly, she turned her head to him. Shooting him a nervous laugh, she finally spoke out.

"I just— wanted you to... I wanted to ask if you could like, spank me?"

"You want me to spank you?" Harry said, and Y/N could practically hear the grin in his voice. His hand was immediately back on her ass again, gliding over it with such ease that had her dangerously close to falling apart. Again. When she nodded, he leaned over a little further, his hips tightly moving forward. He definitely did it on purpose, breathy chuckles falling from his lips at the small yelp that escaped Y/N.

"Why?"

Y/N's cheeks flushed. Harry wasn't a stranger to her body or wants or needs anymore, but still it was a task to actually speak her desires out loud.

"Because..." she huffed, shifting slightly under him. "Because your hands are so big, and your rings—"

"My rings?" He interrupted her, sounding genuinely surprised. She hummed in response.

"I think they'd make it sting more, make me feel it a little longer." She confessed, and gasped when Harry's began to pick up his thrusts again. Before she knew it, Y/N was being nailed into the bed again, and her high was getting closer her at a record time.

Then, that anticipated sting spread across her right cheek, aligned with the noise that echoed in the room. Y/N let out a joyous groan, her eyes shut tightly at the impact of Harry's hand. That was going to leave a mark for sure.

"Fuck— such a filthy mouth for such an angel..." He panted, another slap ringing through the room as she took every inch that he slammed into her over and over again.

Y/N's stomach fluttered at the mention of the nickname. A whine slipped from her throat as her pussy began to twitch around Harry's cock. He let out a low laugh, continuing exactly as he was, watching her clutch the sheets and repeat his name in whispered pleas. But his ears perked up when he heard a small demand between the sound of his name.

"Harder, please."

"Don't you wanna come, baby?" He asked. He knew she was on the brink of an orgasm, and changing his pace would only further her from that. She shrugged.

"I just wanna feel you."

"You don't feel me right now?" Harry asked, a bit confused.

Y/N shook her head. "No, I do. I just... I want to feel it after, too."

"Jesus Christ..." Harry threw his head back, letting out a guttural noise. Without another word, he grabbed Y/N's hips with both hands and started rocking into her at a glorious pace.

Y/N jerked violently against the bed, her body wiggling back and forth as Harry stretched her out more than he already had, something which Y/N thought to be impossible. Her ragged breathing made it hard to suppress the moans that Harry pushed out of her with every frantic thrust.

"You're close, aren't you?" Harry said, his words as erratic as his breathing. "Knew you liked it rough, just had to pry it out of you, didn't I?"

Y/N moaned out a yes, but her verbal confirmation wasn't needed with the way she was pulsing around Harry.

"Being grabbed like a ragdoll, getting fucked like a whore... all while looking divine. Must've been made especially for me, angel." He hissed, landing another slap on Y/N's ass.

That was enough for her to fall apart, if not too much. With a loud cry of his name, Y/N reached her pinnacle, spasming under him. Harry whined, letting out a shuddering breath as he pulled out and let his sperm paint her back.

Y/N was sure nothing could ever feel better than this, and that notion in her head as she came down from her high scared her a bit. Nevertheless, she pushed it to the side as Harry moved behind her. She stayed still, physically and mentally unable to move.

She closed her eyes as Harry wiped his cum off her back with a towel, and smiled at his whispered praise. He was so sweet afterwards, much like the last time. It seemed to be easy for him; to switch from that dominant, ice cold man to this sweet and kind one, and then it flashed through Y/N's mind.

Was he that good at it because he'd had a lot of practice? With other women?

It wouldn't be crazy. If anything, it would be far from crazy. Harry was extremely handsome, and confident. He surely knew what he was doing because he's done it a lot of times. But that conclusion seemed to absolutely disgust Y/N. Her mind went back to that ex of Harry's she met at Sophie's party; was she one of few? Or one of many?

"Y/N?"

Y/N quickly snapped her head to Harry, who was standing in front of her with a glass of water. When did she sit up? She took the glass, and Harry seated himself on the edge of the bed.

"You okay, Angel?"

She nodded, looking into his beautiful green eyes. What was she thinking about again?

"You don't have to be anywhere in the upcoming days, right?" Harry stroked her knee as Y/N drank the entire glass of water in one go. Putting the glass on the night stand, she shook her head, and Harry grinned.

"Alright, you'll be staying here, then."