#daddy!harrystyles

A mischievous grin tugged at the corners of your lips as you stepped fully into the room, your eyes sparkling with a mix of affection and mischief.

“Hi, handsome.” You entered his office, closing and locking the door behind you.

Harry owned the company, and most people who worked on the floor of his office knew you were dating. You had gotten some looks, maybe some whispers about your age gap—him being 40 and you being 26—but the most supportive person was Harry’s 54 year old receptionist, Lisa. Every time she saw you, she had reminded Harry he better quickly act and “put a ring on it”.

“Surprising me at work and wearing my favorite dress? You spoil me.” He complimented your sundress as you came and sat in his lap.

You immediately leaned in and started kissing him, shifting yourself so you were straddling him. Your eagerness made him chuckle into the kiss, but still fully accepting it, grabbing and squeezing your ass.

“Missed me that much?”

You pulled back from the kiss, a soft giggle escaping your lips as you brushed a stray lock of hair from his face.

“A lot more than that…you didn’t wake me up this morning to say goodbye.” you teased, the playful pout on your lips showing how much you were trying to act upset.

Harry chuckled, his hand lightly squeezing your side as he gave you an exaggerated, guilty look. "I was up early for that meeting, and you looked so peaceful, didn't have the heart to wake you."

You leaned back slightly in his lap, pretending to be cross. "I hate it when you do that. You know I don’t mind you waking me."

"Sorry, Honey," he said, tilting his head to look at you with a soft, apologetic gaze. "How about I make it up to you?"

You raised an eyebrow, the corners of your lips curving into a smile. "Yeah?"

He grinned mischievously, his hands sliding up your arms as if to pull you closer. "I thought I could take you to lunch. My treat."

“That’s a start," you said, your voice teasing, inching towards something more. "But I think I deserve something extra."

Harry leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. "Oh, yeah? What’s that?"

Your lips curled into a smile. You leaned into his neck, kissing and sucking everywhere and rubbing your hand up and down his chest.

“You think you’ll be able to be quiet though?” He asked, leaning his head back to let you kiss along his chest and collarbone.

“I will,” You leaned back up to his ear. “I promise, daddy.”

“Mm, I don’t know…I feel we’ve been in this situation before.” He stood up, lifting you up with him and placing you on his desk. ”You say you’ll be quiet and then you’re screaming and whimpering immediately, baby.”

“I’ll be quiet…please Harry.” You quietly cried out as he laid you down on his desk, his hands roaming up your dress, kissing all over your collarbones.

“Don’t get me wrong, Princess,” He lifted your dress up, scrunching it up to your stomach. “I love hearing you screaming, but we're going to have to be quiet today, okay?”

You quickly nodded your head, beginning to feel restless.

He hummed as he opened your legs, as if he was admiring your body. He crouched down to pull your panties off, shoving them in his blazer pocket. The kissing of your inner thighs made you slightly whimper out, you had already forgotten you needed to be quiet.

“What did I say, baby? Do you need me to stop?”

“No, no, please, please daddy.”

"You need to be a good girl for me right now.. stop whimpering." His dominant voice was sending hot breaths onto your already wet pussy, making you want to whine even more than before.

He moved his head forward and licked your pussy, you squeezed your thigh as a replacement to letting out a moan. Before he started, he pulled you to the edge of the counter for better access. He moved his head forward and lightly sucked and licked your pussy, making your eyes squeeze shut and very quietly whimper out again, not loud enough for anyone to hear. He looked up at you and upon seeing you in total ecstasy, only made him grip you tighter and continue eating you out faster.

“Mm, daddy….daddy.” You whispered out with every movement and the feeling that his tongue made on your pussy, which urged him on more until you gripped his hair and pulled him away from you. He knew you were close to your orgasm and he still had a number of unspeakable things he wanted to do to you here.

“Want to suck you.” You urged. He helped you up, and you crouched down to your knees, keeping your doe eyed look onto him.

“Of course, Princess.”

He groaned as you started unbuckling his belt and trousers, pulling them down along with his boxers. You immediately started kissing up his cock, from the base up, earning a throaty growl from Harry, making you giggle.

“Be quiet, daddy.”

He chuckled, rubbing his hands through you hair and slightly gripping.

You pushed your lips around the tip of his cock, before he slowly pushed you further down.Your dynamic was perfect, at least to you. He was dominant, but loved to praise you. He loved pushing you to your limits, but never going past them, and making sure to take good care of you in the process.

“Good girl, you’re doing so good for me.” He exhaled as you kept sucking him off. You looked up at him through batted eyelashes and smiled up at him. God, he knew exactly what you were doing and that it was on purpose. He knew you wanted to make it so hard for him to not fuck you right now.

He tapped your cheek, telling you to pull off before helping you back up to your feet. Without warning, he placed his arms under your bum and hoisted you up and walked you over to the couch on the other side of his office.

He laid you down, lifting your dress up to your arms, bunching it up and holding it over your mouth.

“Need you to bite down on your dress, I know my sweet girl won’t be able to be quiet.” You bashfully opened your mouth and bit down on the fabric. “Are you going to be good for me?”

You hummed and nodded your head, desperate for him to get to fucking you.

He forcefully pushed his cock inside of you, making you grip onto him tighter and cry out into the dress. He made sure he got deeper and deeper into your soaking wet pussy with each thrust.

Your legs were trembling as the rhythmic thrusts went on. He hand lightly wrapped around your neck, making sure not to apply any force, just to hold you in place.

Your dress fell out of your mouth as it began to hurt your teeth for how hard you were biting down.

“Daddy, it’s so good. It f-feels so good.” Your words stuttered out of your mouth as his thrusts got slower but deeper, filling you up completely. He didn't respond to you, he was too busy focusing on your body weakening and trembling at his touch. He could tell you were close as your back was at a constant, slight arch and your mouth was agape.

“Do you want to cum, pretty girl?” He whispered in your ear. You nodded slowly, the feeling of Harry’s thick cock filling you up was still making you weak. He kept thrusting inside you and started whispering in your ear. “I love your cunt, pretty baby, it’s so good for me.”

You tucked your head into his neck as your orgasm got closer and closer. His hand lowered down your abdomen, his thumb finding your clit to edge you closer to your orgasm.

“Cum for me baby,” he kissed the top of your head as your face was still shoved into his clavicle. “Be a good girl for me and cum.”

He started rubbing your clit harder and faster, watching how your body jerked and trembled. Your orgasm erupted throughout your whole body. You lightly bit down on his shoulder while you rode out your orgasm to keep yourself from being too loud, his fingers slowly decreasing in speed as it washed over you.

Your body got tired after you orgasm finished and everything felt heavy. “Did so good for me baby… you were so quiet, like such a good girl.”

“I don’t want to make you more messy, baby. Where do you want me to cum?” He politely asked after he almost reached his finish.

“My mouth?” You asked, figuring it was the least messy option. “Then I’ll swallow….nice and clean.” You joked, giving him a cheeky smile.

You slowly got down on your shaky knees as he sat on the couch, putting your mouth back on his tip, rubbing the rest of his cock with your hand to help him reach his orgasm.

His stomach hitched and he heavily inhaled and exhaled before cumming in your mouth, painting your entire tongue.

“Let me see, Princess.” You stuck out your tongue, showing the cum that covered it. He kissed your nose and pushed up your chin, allowing you to swallow.

He pulled you into his lap and gave you a soft, affectionate squeeze. "How’s that? Better?"

You smiled. "Much better." You leaned in, brushing a final kiss across his lips before sliding off his lap and standing. "But I’m still holding you to that lunch, after I use your bathroom."

"Anything you want, love," he said, standing as well. "Let’s go before people start to wonder what we’re doing in here, if they didn’t already hear you.”

+++

“Jesus fucking christ.” 

Harry takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes to calm himself. It doesn’t work. His nostrils are flaring and his eyes have turned a dark, angry shade of green. “I fuckin’ said last week that I wanted gas stoves. So why is there an order for six electric stove tops?”

Ian, the contractor, fumbles in front of Mr. Styles, cheeks turning red. “Uh-um, t-the installation of the electric stoves was cheaper.”

“What did I explicitly ask for,” Harry seethes.

“Err– t-the gas–”

“So what in your right mind made you think that I’d be okay with this?”

“I– well, sir, we just wanted to go with the option that was more affordable–”

“Do you think I give a fuck which one is cheaper?” Harry yells. “For fuck’s sake, I’m running a multi-million business!” He slams the papers he’d been holding onto the desk in front of him and stands up angrily, his chair scratching loudly against the hardwood floors. “Get this fixed, today,” he says before storming out of the conference room and slamming the door behind him. 

He locks himself into his office, and sits in his chair, rubbing his red-veined eyes. He’s too tired to have to deal with all this shit today. How hard is it for people to follow instructions? His life would be so much easier if everyone else didn’t fuck up so much. 

He sits there for a few minutes with his head in his hands, fingers still rubbing at his eyes to try and soothe away the burning feeling he feels every time he opens them. His head is starting to hurt, a pounding migraine so intense that he can feel his heartbeat in his ears, and his stomach hurts. All he had to eat today was a black coffee before he went into that horrific meeting five hours ago. 

Yes, the one hour meeting they had planned had ended up taking five hours instead. He literally had to clear his schedule to fix all the fucking mistakes that they were making. They’d chosen the wrong tiles for the floor, ordered the wrong stove tops for the kitchen, and had designed all of the countertops to be one inch too low… it literally pained him to be working with such incompetent designers. 

And now he was behind on his work. 

He lets out a tired sigh and turns on his desktop, opening his emails. The bright screen makes his eyes sting, and he has to squint to read the tiny word on the screen. He scrambles around in his drawers and finds his reading glasses, but still, the words blur together and make his head hurt. He bares with the pain, and spends an hour or so responding to emails and filling out paperwork, until there’s a knock at his door. 

“What is it?” he calls out a bit snappily, not looking up from his paperwork. 

He hears the door jiggle, trying to open but struggling against the lock. “It’s me, Mr. Styles!” 

Immediately, he puts his pen down and unlocks the door for his sweet y/n to come in. She’s holding a plate of food for him, and looks up at him with her pretty smile, cheeks warm and dimpled with kindness. 

“Hey puppy,” he murmurs, surprised. She hadn’t come in for the majority of this week because she had finals. In fact, she just had her physics final just this morning. 

“Hi!” she says enthusiastically, entering his office. “Teddy told me that you’ve been here since 8, n’that you haven’t eaten anything all day.” She looks up at him with her adorable bambi eyes, “How come you’re allowed to scold me for not eating enough at work when you’re skipping meals too?” 

He smiles lightly, “you’re right puppy, that’s hypocritical of me.” 

“Very hypocritical,” she nods resolutely. “So, I brought you some food! I had Teddy make it, ‘cos I know he’s your favorite.”

His stomach growls at the sight of the fettuccini alfredo in front of him. He’s starving but he’d been way too caught up in his work to think about getting up to get himself any food. “Thank you,” he says, taking the plate from her and picking up her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles. 

“It smells yummy, so I want some too,” she says, sitting down on the chair behind his desk. “But we gotta eat it quick, ‘cos I’m supposed to get back out there in five minutes.” 

“Thought you weren’t meant to come in today?” he says, sitting down next to her. 

“I wasn’t scheduled,” she says, shoving a forkful of the pasta into her mouth, “but then Grace texted me asking if I could cover for her. She got the flu.” 

Harry hums, grabbing a tissue from his desk, and wipes off the little bit of white sauce clinging onto y/n’s lips, her mouth full of deliciously creamy and garlicky pasta. “How were your exams?”

She rolls her eyes. “Ugh. Don’t talk about it. So hard, but everyone else said it was super hard too, so hopefully there’s a fat curve.” She claps her hands excitedly, “But at least I’m done! No more school for the rest of the month!!!” 

Despite his initial grumpy mood, he can’t help the smile that graces his face. His girlfriend is literally the cutest thing in the world, especially when she gets all giddy and excited like this. She’d been really stressed out and MIA all week because of her exams, so it’s refreshing to see his lively and happy y/n again. 

“So proud of you puppy,” he says, cupping her cheek and giving her a kiss. 

She twirls a forkful of pasta for Harry and feeds it to him. “Are we gonna hang out tonight?” she asks. 

“Of course. Need t’cuddle tonight, you’ve been so busy I feel neglected.” Just sitting with y/n for a few minutes has already calmed Harry down, the stress in his body fizzling away. 

She giggles cutely. “Okay baby. We can spend alllll night together.” 

+++

The ache in his stomach fades away after finishing the pasta that y/n brought for him, and after popping an advil, he feels his headache start to slowly go away as well. He’d gotten an email that the electric stove tops had been returned and that an order for the gas ones had been put in, so he’s feeling more relaxed about that as well.

He lounges around in his office until y/n is done with her shift, and they sneak out the back exit to head home together. He’s got a one hand feel on the steering wheel, the other on her thigh, and he’s feeling much better than he was this morning when he’d been all grumpy and stressed out. 

When they get to a stop light, his phone rings. He thinks nothing of it when he picks up, not even looking at the caller id. “Hello?” he answers casually.

“Er– Hi, Mr. Styles.” 

Harry rolls his eyes. It’s Ian on the phone. “What’s going on?” he says tersely.

“Um… so we figured out the stove issue, which is great…” 

The light turns green. “Okay…?” Harry says, slightly annoyed.

“So… well– the stove company said that the shipment is gonna take a few weeks, which is gonna put the construction schedule behind since we can’t install the countertops until we put the stoves in, which means…” Harry sighs in disappointment, already knowing what’s coming. “Well, it means that the restaurant might not be ready for the opening date that we’d set.” 

“Ian,” Harry’s knuckles are turning white around the steering wheel, and he’s using every cell in his body to keep his voice steady so that he doesn’t start yelling in front of y/n. “When I signed that contract with you, didn’t we agree it would be done in three months?”

“I– yes, it’s really unfortunate–” Ian stammers, but Harry cuts him off.

“I don’t want to hear fuckin’ excuses,” Harry bites. “We signed a contract.”

“Sir, I don’t know what to tell you,” Ian says casually.

“How about we start with the fact that this issue could’ve been completely avoided had you simply followed the plan that we had agreed upon?” Harry’s voice is steadily rising, an angry fire to his tone. “Or how much money you’ve already cost me from all the mistakes you’ve made? I signed a contract and I expect the deadline to be met. It’s far too late to push back the opening of the restaurant.” 

“It’s out of my control–” Ian tries to explain, but Harry won’t hear it.

“Jesus christ, do I need to do everything for you?” Harry bursts. “Call the company and tell them the delivery is for Harry Styles! Figure it out with the investors, pay them extra! We will not be pushing the date back, not when we’ve already invested so much into it.” Harry hangs up the phone angrily and throws it into his lap. “Fucking hell,” he breathes angrily. 

Y/n sits next to him quietly, her eyes wide. “Everything okay?” she asks timidly.

“S’fine,” he bristles tersely, pulling into his parking spot. He puts the car in park and gets out of the car, slamming the door behind him with such aggression that y/n winces for the car. 

Scrambling behind him like a little puppy, she follows him into his penthouse. There’s an angry furrow in his brow as they ride up the elevator, and his lips are pressed together in a frustrated line as he types out a message on his phone. He storms into the kitchen without even glancing at y/n, and pours himself a glass of ice cold water to maybe help himself calm down. 

Y/n stands shyly behind the kitchen counter, not saying anything but watching him quietly.

“Just a second, puppy,” he says, his tone impatient and clipped, pushing past her to head into his home office. He dials the number of one of his restaurant’s business partners on the phone, and spends nearly half an hour figuring out what they were going to do. 

“I want a new fuckin’ contractor,” Harry rants.

His partner. Niall, gives out a hearty laugh, “I know mate, but don’t worry. I’ll figure it out for ya. I know the guys over there, I’ll give ‘em a ring and see if they can get your appliances sent over any quicker.”

“Thank you,” he mutters gratefully. Finally, there was someone who knew how to get shit done. He hangs up the phone and runs his fingers through his hair frustratedly. His headache is back and his neck and shoulders hurt from being so tense.

Y/n knocks on his office door, and he sighs heavily. “Not now, puppy, v’got to send some emails.”

She steps in, despite the fact that he’s dismissed her, with sad eyes and a pout on her lips. “If this is how it’s gonna be all night then… I’m just gonna go home.” 

His eyes snap up. “What?” 

“You’re working and being all… grumpy,” she says quietly. “So I’m gonna get an uber.”

“Y/n, don’t be like that.” He looks at her with an exasperated look. “Something important came up, v’got to deal with it.” 

“I’m not trying to be like anything,” she shrugs. “You’re stressed out and you don’t wanna talk, so I feel like I’m just annoying you by being here.”

“Baby…” he sighs, rolling away from his desk and getting up to go stand in front of her. Her arms are crossed in front of her chest in a shy, almost protective manner, and she has her bag hanging off of her shoulder, fully prepared to leave. Standing in front of her, he can see the sadness in her eyes. “Don’t go, m’sorry.” 

“I know you’re upset…” she whispers, looking down at the floor, “but that doesn’t give you the right to be snappy with me. It hurts my feelings.” 

Oh, his precious girl, so sweet and sensitive. His heart breaks a little bit, knowing that he’d made her sad… he’d been so caught up in his own stress that he’d neglected her feelings. He knows that she was probably so excited to come over after having finished all her exams… and he knows that she’s sensitive. She gets teary eyed whenever someone uses a stern voice with her, cries for days if she ever gets yelled at. Of course it would hurt her when he pushes her aside and snaps at her to leave him alone.

He pulls her into his chest, “Sweetheart, you’re right, m’sorry. I shouldn’t be takin’ it out on you, you’ve done nothing but been sweet t’me all day.” She’d brought food for him when he was hungry, was cheerful and lovely on the car ride home, and had tried to talk to him when he was upset… only to get pushed away at the end of the night.

“I wanna stay, but not if you’re gonna be mean,” she says into his chest.

He presses a kiss to her hair, “no, m’done puppy. Not gonna be mean, promise. Please, stay?” 

She looks up at him and smiles softly. “Okay,” she puckers her lips and leans up for a quick kiss. “Thank you.” 

He smooths his hand over her hair, and rests his head atop her cheek, still hugging her close. She’s warm and smells sweet… holding her in his arms is all he wants to do for the rest of his life.

“How about I go take a shower while you send your emails, and then we can go to bed?” she suggests, pulling away.

He shakes his head. “Nuh-uh. No more emails tonight, I can send them in the morning.” It’s late at night anyways, it wouldn’t make a difference if he sent them now or tomorrow. 

“M’getting in that shower with you.”

+++

In the shower, y/n washes away all of Harry’s stress and worries. She lathers up the loofah with the rose scented body wash that she keeps in his shower, and rubbed it all over his chest and back and biceps. She even went so far as to lift his arms above his head and scrub his armpits for him, making Harry cackle at how silly she was.

Then, she took his yummy smelling shampoo and had him bend down so that she could wash his hair for him. She threaded her fingers through his hair and scratched at his scalp deliciously, scrubbing his hair as though he were getting spoiled at the salon. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly as the foamy shampoo dripped down his forehead, but she always made sure to rinse the bubbles away before they got into his eyes. 

They got out and dried themselves together, standing in front of Harry’s heater in their towels for a few minutes while y/n brushed her hair. He changed himself into only a pair of boxers, while y/n opted to skip on undergarments (it’s very important to let ur pussy breathe!!!), putting on only a pair of thin sleep shorts and one of Harry’s huge t-shirts. 

“M’gonna give you a massage,” she tells Harry once they’re both changed, shoving him onto the bed. He chuckles to himself at her weak attempt to manhandle him, but complies easily, settling onto his stomach so that she could straddle his back. She squirts some lotion onto her hands and warms it up between her palms, then rubs it smoothly onto Harry’s broad and muscular back.

“Mm, thank you baby,” he groans. “So good t’me.” 

It’s all innocent at first – y/n knows that Harry was stressed out and probably super tense, so she thought giving him a nice massage to work out the knots in his shoulders would be nice. But, of course, with Harry shirtless underneath her, it’s hard for her thoughts to stay completely pure. 

Harry’s so strong and muscled… it’s so hot. He feels firm underneath her hands, her palms smoothing over the ridges and curves of the muscles in his toned back. His shoulders are broad and his biceps look huge, even without being flexed or anything. The skin of his back is warm and smooth… so soft and tan. Her mouth waters as she rubs her hands up and down his back.

Her fingers find his shoulders and she kneads them deeply, which makes Harry let out a loud groan. His shoulders are particularly tense, and her little fingers are rubbing the tight knots in them so nicely. “Harder baby,” he grunts, and she obliges. Her thumbs dig deep into the meat of his shoulders and rub in slow, painful circles.

She uses all her strength to massage him. He’s so built, every inch of his back covered with hard muscles, that it takes a lot of energy to really get in there. She has to put her entire weight into her hands and press deep onto his back. Luckily, the lotion made it easy for her to glide over his skin and knead his sore muscles. The groans that he lets out tell her which spots to focus on. 

His eyes are shut, eyebrows furrowed with pleasure. It hurts so good. His cock has started to plump up a bit, twitching every time her delicate fingers knead a particularly painful knot in his back. She keeps rubbing him, digging her fingers into his muscles, and the pressure in his cock grows unbearable. 

He flips himself around, unable to deal with it any longer. Y/n gasps at his sudden movement, then finds herself short of breath when she settles herself back down on his lap and feels how hard he is underneath her. Straddling his hips in nothing but her little, thin pair of sleep shorts, she can feel him… feels the curve of his cock, restrained in his boxers, and feels the ridge of his tip nudging against her clit. She’s sure that he can probably feel her pussy too, feel every fold and the tiny bud of her clit.

He smirks up at her when her little pussy flutters around nothing, twitching so delicately against his clothed cock. Her center feels hot, keeping him warm while she sits prettily atop him. “Keep going baby…” he says, voice low and dangerous. “M’arms hurt so much, can you rub ‘em for me?” 

He pouts up at her, but it’s a mocking pout. He knows exactly what she’s thinking about, and it’s much more filthy than his innocent request for an arm massage. 

Nonetheless, she squirts some more lotion on her hands and brings them down to his strong biceps. He’d been to the gym yesterday for arms, so he wasn’t lying when he said they were sore. But also, that means they’re particularly pumped today, firm and delicious… y/n just wants to bite them. 

His hands rest on her hips while she rubs her palms up and down his arms, his thumbs tracing soft circles onto the skin of thigh where her shorts have ridden up. She looks like she’s intently focused on rubbing his arms, but really, she can’t stop thinking about the way his cock feels underneath her. He subtly grips her hips and presses her down harder onto the hard bulge in his pants, and lets out a strained breath through his nose. Y/n similarly feels her breath catch in her throat, her hands pausing momentarily as she flutters her eyes shut.

“Feels so good baby,” he murmurs when her hands migrate up to massage his chest, rubbing circles over his swallows and tracing over his butterfly delicately. It’s a not-so subtle innuendo to fuel the fire of the sexual tension burning between the two of them right now. 

The hands on her hips start to slide upwards, under her shirt to rest on her warm tummy. He can see the soft peaks of her nipples poking through the shirt she’s wearing. “Baby… show me y’pretty tits, please?” he begs. He slides his hands even higher until his fingers graze the undersides of her breasts. “Had such a long day, I deserve a treat don’ I?”

“Y-yeah,” she agrees softly, taking her shirt off and throwing it onto the floor. She’s left topless, her perky nipple peaking in the cold air of Harry’s bedroom, and her wet pussy pressed firmly to his hard cock.

She continues rubbing his chest with her tits out, and Harry takes it upon himself to do the same to her. He plays with her tits, holds them in his palms and rubs his thumbs over her hard nipples. Still, it’s not enough. 

“Come closer, baby,” he murmurs lowly, guiding her forward. She inches forward slowly, back arching while holding herself up with her arms, until her boobs are hanging in front of Harry’s face. 

He sticks his tongue out and leans up, attaching himself to her nipple and sucking it into his mouth gently. His tongue licks the soft bud gently, and he hums happily. “Mmm, baby, so nice to me,” he mutters, switching to her other nipple, “Lettin’ daddy play with your pretty tits ‘cos I had a long day.” Hand engulfs the breast that he’d just hand in his mouth, palming it gently while his tongue plays with the other. His teeth skim her soft skin gently, and he starts sucking. Each purse of his lip and pass of his tongue sends a shock straight down to y/n’s center, and she’s absolutely, totally drenched. Her heart is beating erratically in her chest, and she can’t help herself before grinding herself down. 

Since she’s lifted herself up to align her tits with Harry’s face, she’s no longer sitting on his bulge, but instead now sitting on the butterfly painted on his abdomen. She presses herself onto his abs, soothing the dull ache that comes each time he hums around her breast.

Her boobs are so plump and plushy, dangling in front of his mouth and covered in his spit. His hands grope her chest sensually, pushing her breasts into his face and letting himself indulge like a teenage boy. He lets them bounce on his face, skimming his lips against them then pulling himself back, teasing himself. He nudges his nose against them, and they jiggle prettily right in front of his face. God, he’s making himself so hard, playing with her tits like this, having them all up in his face. All he can see is her skin, the roundness of her breasts, the soft bud of her nipples. No matter which way he turns his head, he makes contact with her, her nipples skimming his cheeks or his lips dancing against her sideboob. 

“Jus-” she gasps when he takes her boob back between his lips and sucks, tongue curling around her nipple, “Jus’ wanna make you happy daddy.” 

“Doing so good baby, taking caring of me so well,” he murmurs, barely moving his lips from her skin before reattaching to her areola. “You know what would make daddy so happy?” 

“W-what?” she whimpers, pushing her clit down against his hard abs.

“If you got on my cock and got yourself off. Could you do that for me, puppy?” 

She nods eagerly and shuffles herself down, shoving Harry’s briefs down. His cock bounces up and slaps against his stomach, the tip completely slick with his own precum and arousal. She doesn’t even bother warming herself or Harry up – the massage and his little play session had gotten both of them 100% ready.

She doesn’t take her sleep shorts off, genuinely too excited to stuff herself full of his cock. Grabbing him by the shaft, she hovers right over his hips and slowly guides him into her dripping cunt. The slide in is easy, absolutely no resistance from how wet she is, and she’s able to bottom out on the first go. 

Her hands rest on his chest to support herself, and she starts to lift her hips, up and down, skin meeting skin with every drop down. Her nails dig into his flesh, and it hurts just as good as her massage had. She’s riding him like she never has before – usually she’s a bit of a princess, mostly grinding her clit down and rubbing herself on his cock slowly until her thighs start to burn and she whines for Harry to take over. 

Now though, with the way he’d teased her all nice, she’s bouncing on his cock properly, using all her strength to pull herself all the way up, then drop back down. She sets a messy pace for herself, but it doesn’t matter. He’s hitting all the right spots in her, and that’s all she care about. 

Harry lies on his back in bliss, her pussy absolute heaven around his cock. Her messy pace and high bounces have her tits jiggling, and Harry pushes himself up onto his elbows to get a better view. “Fuck, puppy, you’re an angel.” 

He brings a hand down to rub her at her clit, fingers rubbing tight circles as she grinds herself on him. “Gonna cum baby,” he groans, “Are you close?”

She whines out, and nods messily, eyes shut as she keeps herself going. 

Harry throws his head back, and shuts his eyes, rubbing her clit faster and faster until she’s cumming, clenching around his cock and squeezing him so tightly. His vision goes white his ears start to ring, and he’s in absolute heaven.

Y/n collapses onto his chest, and he spurts out long streaks of cum into her warm pussy, balls clenching with every release and his hips twitching upwards, trying to get as deep into her as he possibly can. She lays on top of him heavily, breathing hard with rosy cheeks and a glistening forehead from how hard she’d worked to get them both to their end. 

He pulls her up for a kiss. What had he even been stressed about, again? 

+++

“So you’re free then?” 

“Yeah, I should be.” she says with a cute smile, excited that Harry’s hinting at doing something special together. “Why?”

He chuckles. “Do you even know what next Tuesday is?”

She furrows her brows at him, still smiling, but a bit confused. “Um…” she pulls out her phone and opens up her calendar. “Next tuesday… the 14th of February…” her breath catches in her throat and she looks up at him with round, soft eyes. “Oh.”

His eyes are warm as he laughs, crinkling softly in the corners. She’s adorable, the way she looks up at him with such wide, surprised eyes, looking like he just asked her to marry him when he literally only brought up valentines day. It makes his heart melt, his sweet, precious girlfriend, so easily excited and happy. Like a little bundle of sunshine lying right in his arms. 

For her entire life, she’s always been alone on Valentine’s day. She’s never had someone buy her flowers or take her out for dinner on that special day… she’s usually just at home, by herself, studying or doing laundry as if it were any other day of the year. She’s spent so many years ignoring the fact that it was even a holiday… that she totally forgot that it was coming up this month. 

But Harry remembered. 

“Can I take you out, baby? Will you be my valentine?”

Her heart flutters as Harry whispers to her softly, looking into his eyes and just drowning in the adoration that fills them. His eyes are always so warm, so loving and kind, communicating so much to her without having to say anything. It overwhelms her, how wonderful and perfect he is. She hides herself in his chest, whining softly. He’s the sweetest in the world and it makes her want to cry. 

Harry laughs, and y/n can feel the deep vibrations rumbling through his chest. “Why’re you hiding?” he asks, the smile evident in his voice as he smooths a palm over her hair. 

“You’re perfect,” she whines, burying herself deeper into his neck. She never in a million years thought that she’d be lucky enough to have such an amazing boyfriend. A kind, sweet, handsome boyfriend who planned special things for valentines day, who coddled her and kissed her and took care of her so sweetly. 

She loves him. She’s bursting with it and it takes everything in her not to say it out loud. The three words have been on the tip of her tongue for weeks now, slowly growing more and more prominent in the forefront of her mind. It’s so hard for her to just not say, especially when he does all these sweet things.

He kisses her hair and wraps both of his arms around her, letting her hide in his chest even though he wants nothing more than to see her pretty eyes. “Just want t’make you happy baby,” he says quietly. 

She lifts her head and asks him with a shy smile, “What are we gonna do?”

He kisses the tip of her nose. “It’s a surprise.”

+++

After her classes on Tuesday, she rushes home and hops in the shower for a solid hour. She does her full body shower routine, deep conditions her hair and puts on a face mask so that she’s feeling nice and pampered. She’s planning on getting all dolled up tonight – she’s gonna do her make-up all nice and style her hair, wear a pretty dress and heels that she only busts out twice a year.

As a busy college student, she doesn’t really get the chance to make herself feel pretty. She’s genuinely so caught up with school and work all the time that she barely has an extra 10 minutes to do her makeup or pick a nice outfit in the mornings. She usually rolls out of bed and goes to class in her comfiest sweatshirt and jeans, with minimal makeup and her hair thrown up so that it’s out of her face while she’s studying.

That’s why these dates with Harry are always such a treat for her! He always plans them on days when he knows that she’s not busy… never during her stressful midterms weeks or when she has a long shift at the restaurant. He makes sure that he can treat her to a nice night after she’s done cramming for her physics midterm, so that she can really relax and enjoy herself. 

With no homework or upcoming exams, she has all night to get ready and feel pretty. Then, around seven-ish, Harry texts her that he’s on the way to pick her up. 

She puts on a coat and dabs her lips with a light layer of gloss, staring at herself in the mirror and taking a deep breath. Her heart flutters in her chest as she heads out the door, nervous to see Harry… not in a bad way, more-so a romantic, jittery, I-can’t-wait-to-kiss-my-hot-boyfriend way. 

Harry’s shiny black car stands out like a sore thumb in front of her crappy college apartment, big and expensive and an object of envy to any of the broke college kids who walk past. She rushes down and sees Harry standing out of the car, leaning against the passenger's side door. He smiles at her, that hot half smile that makes his cheek dimple. 

He’s dressed in a dark teal suit, with white stitching around the wrists and under the lapels. Underneath it, he wears a silvery blue silk button down, which he’s left unbuttoned enough to show off the beautiful butterfly on his stomach. His hard rings glimmer on his fingers as he waves at her, and as she walks towards him, she finds a delicate pearl necklace also wrapped around his neck. 

When she reaches him, he rests a hand on her hip and cradles her jaw with the other hand. “Baby,” he murmurs, flickering his eyes all over her face, “you look so pretty.” He leans down and kisses her softly, her sticky gloss transferring onto his lips as they pucker, and he hums at the sweet taste of it. When he pulls off from the kiss, his lips shine prettily with the shimmer of her gloss. She giggles and wipes it off with her thumb. 

“I love this suit,” she whispers, smoothing her hands over the expensive fabric. The silk feels soft under her palms, thin enough so that she can feel the hard ridges of his abdomen twitch as she gracefully dances her fingers across the material. Her eyes flicker over the dainty jewelry he wears, fingers coming up to toy with the cross hanging from his neck and trace the tiny pearls on his collarbones. The heads of his swallows peek out from under his shirt, and she swallows thickly. 

Her boyfriend is… crazy hot. His hair is swirled messily atop his head, a stray curl falling into his eyes, and his stubble… god, his stubble. She kisses him again, holding his face, his facial hair scratching against her palms deliciously. She loves the way it feels against her skin, ticklish against her soft cheeks. She doesn’t want to stop kissing him in front of his car, doesn’t want to stop feeling his stubble or his large palms on the curve of her waist, but he pulls away with a cocky smirk on his pink lips. “C’mon puppy, don’t get too excited just yet.” 

He opens the car door for her and holds a hand out to help her into the car like a true gentleman, but she hesitates to climb in. When Harry looks at what she’s looking at, he lets out a breathy laugh. “Oh,” he chuckles, picking up the bouquet of flowers that he’d left on the passenger's seat. “Forgot t’give you these.” He smiles shyly, the slightest hint of a blush growing on his cheeks as he gives her the bundle of pink and white flowers. 

She melts right then and there, turning around with heart eyes. “Thank you,” she says with wide eyes. She goes to give him another kiss, but Harry dodges it by putting a thumb to her lips, knowing that if she gets on his lips they’ll be standing in front of his car and making out for another three minutes. 

“No more kissing, puppy,” he says, patting her ass and urging her into her seat. “Don’t wanna be late to our reservation.” 

+++

Y/n looks around in awe as Harry leads them through the beautiful vineyard. Harry’s brought them to a restaurant, y/n doesn’t know where, but by the looks of it… it’s expensive. Their table is outdoors, on a patio that overlooks miles and miles of grape vines. The patio itself is covered by the green plants, climbing up the rails of the fence and curling over the patio roof over them. The plants are lined with fairy lights, a soft, romantic ambiance that’s accompanied by the gentle hum of the other customers at the restaurant. 

Harry pulls out her chair for her, then takes a seat across from her. Their table is set up beautifully, with a single rose sitting in a vase as the centerpiece, surrounded by tea candles that burn softly. 

“Harry,” she whispers, still looking around and taking it all in, “this place is so pretty.” 

He smiles proudly. “One of my friends owns it,” he says, grabbing his napkin and draping it across his lap. “We went to culinary school together.” 

Y/n copies him, happy to be here but a little out of place. She’s just a college kid, she doesn’t really go to fancy restaurants… so she needs Harry to hold her hand a bit and tell her what to order. “What kind of food do they have here?” she says, confused that she hasn’t been given a menu yet.

“S’not the food we’re here for, s’the wine,” he explains with a soft smile.

Her mouth rounds out in a soft o, and she looks around, understanding the whole aesthetic. The vineyard, the wine glasses, the wall of wine bottles that they walked past… obviously this place is a winery. 

“Excited to try some wine? Get a little educated?” he teases. She’s reminded of how the first time she went over to his apartment and he cooked for her, he’d brought out wine for her and she’d admitted that she didn’t know anything about wine. 

Harry, being the sophisticated chef he is, is some sort of wine connoisseur who manages to pick out wines that y/n actually likes, since she usually finds them to be bitter and dull.

She’d rather have a shot of tequila and get drunk quickly instead of having to sip on some yucky wine. But drinking wine with Harry is always fun, and she’s excited for whatever he’s got planned. He has good taste and she has no doubt she’s gonna love everything they try tonight. 

+++

“Harryyy,” y/n giggles, tugging at the lapels of his suit. She’s leaning all of her weight into him, arms wrapped around his neck in a clingy way. Harry wraps an arm around her waist, trying to hold her steady as he chuckles softly to himself. She is such a lightweight.

During the wine tasting, their waiter brought out four different types of wine for them to try, each served with a different meal. The first was a wine meant to pair well with their appetizer of fancy french cheese and fruit, the second a palate cleanser, the third a deep red wine served with their pasta dish, and the final one a sweet dessert wine that y/n really liked. All of those glasses, especially that last one, have made y/n tipsy and super clingy. She’s busy suckling a love mark.

“Baby, c’mon, we gotta go,” he chuckles, trying to coax her out of his neck where she’s busy suckling a love mark.

She bites down on his skin, then presses a soft kiss over the mark she made at the base of his throat. “You look so hot in this suit,” she murmurs, gasping softly in his ear as his grip on her hip tightens. Holding onto him tightly, she feels his biceps bulging under his suit as he tries to guide her discreetly out of the restaurant and into the car. Feeling how strong and muscled he is… mmm it makes her feel things. She leans in for another kiss to his jaw, then bites down on his earlobe seductively.

“Puppy…” he warns, voice low and daunting. “S’not the time f’that.” 

She trails a hand down his chest, teasing at the buckle of his belt, “But I want you daddy.” 

His jaw clenches and he tries not to react, looking around to make sure that nobody’s paying attention to how dangerously close y/n’s fingers are getting to his crotch. Luckily, they’re the only two standing outside of the winery entrance, but he still grabs her wandering hands and stops them from teasing him any further. Holding both of her wrists in front of her in one of his hands, he looks down at her wide, dreamy eyes. She bites her lip playfully and blinks up at him, feigning innocence. 

“Need you to behave,” he coos, the hand not holding her wrists coming up to thumb at her bottom lip. “If you’re good… then I have a surprise for you at home.”

Her eyes widen excitedly. “What is it?” she asks breathlessly.

“S’a surprise,” he says again, eyes glimmering teasingly. He loves his tipsy girlfriend, so sweet and easily excited like a little puppy. He just needs to get them home without her trying to strip him in public. “Can you do that for daddy? Be a good girl until we get home?”

She nods eagerly. 

“Good,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss her lips softly, like a little treat for her obedience. She looks up at him with these wide, dreamy eyes, and it makes Harry smile to himself. His little overexcited, easy to please puppy. 

“Now,” he smooths a hand over her hair, looking down at her with a soft smile. “Need to go say hi to Leo before we leave, do you want to come with me?”

She nods sweetly, on her best behavior. 

“No funny business, m’kay?” he warns. “Or else you're in for it when we get home.” 

+++

“Will you pour me a glass too?” y/n asks sweetly, sitting patiently on Harry’s couch as he uncorks the new bottle of wine. 

Leo, Harry’s old culinary school friend who owned the vineyard, had gifted them a bottle of the expensive dessert wine that y/n had loved so much as a thank you for coming to try his restaurant. This was perfect, as Harry, who hadn’t drank that much since he was gonna drive the two of them home, was ready to really indulge in the wine that he’d only taken a sip of at dinner. 

Y/n, despite already being tipsy from her four glasses of wine, is insistent on having another glass. The wine was just so yummy and sweet, with the aroma of berries and chocolate, it barely felt like she was drinking wine!

“I think you’ve had enough, puppy,” Harry says, pouring only one glass. If she has any more wine, she won’t be sober enough to even open the gifts he has for her. 

She pouts petulantly, “Who are you to tell me how much wine I can drink?”

He chuckles, beyond amused by her silly antics. She’s so cute when she’s drunk. “How about we just share this one puppy?” he tries to ration, “Won’t that be easier?”

She mulls it over, and remembers how sexy it was last time when he fed her wine from his glass. “Fine,” she sighs, leaning into him when he takes a seat next to her on the couch. The thought of sharing a glass with him and getting to suck the remnants off of his wine stained lips is the only thing that makes her agree. 

From behind his back, Harry reveals a small, Tiffany blue box. Y/n’s eyes widen and her heart stutters. “Harry,” she says, sitting up straight as he presents her with the gift. “Is this for me?”

He nods. “Open it,” he says with a soft dimple in his cheek.

She takes the box from him with wide eyes. “I didn’t know we were doing gifts,” she says with a pout. “I didn’t get you anything.” 

“Didn’t want you t’get me anything, baby,” he murmurs, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Just saw it and thought of you. Valentine’s day was just an excuse for me t’give it to you.” 

She takes the small box from him and opens it gently, as though she’s afraid of breaking it. Inside is a delicate, heart shaped pendant on a dainty chain, resting softly atop the pillowy satin interior of the box. She traces over the soft detailing on the small pendant, in awe. Harry, thankful, has good taste, and hasn’t gotten her an obnoxiously large or colorful piece of jewelry. No, this necklace is dainty and subtle, just the way she likes, and as cheesy as the heart shaped pendant is… it makes her chest grow warm with love.

Harry’s large fingers pluck the necklace out of its box, and toy with the pendant for a second. The heart opens up, and reveals a picture of the two of them. “Look, it’s a locket,” he says proudly, showing her the tiny picture hidden in the heart of the pendant. She gasps and holds the pendant up to her face. The picture he’s chosen is one of her favorites, from one of their dates in the park when she’d randomly asked an elderly woman near them to take a picture of herself and Harry. 

The two of them don’t have many pictures together, in full honesty, just because they’re often just spending time with each other and don’t have any reason to take pictures. But that day, there was just something that made her want to remember the way she was feeling. In the picture, Harry stands behind her with his arms wrapped around her shoulders. Y/n holds onto his forearms, giving a huge, cheesy smile to the camera while Harry gives a kiss to her cheek.

This perfect moment in time, captured and stored in this heart shaped locket that she could wear right on top of her own heart… it makes her lower lip wobble and her eyes start to tear up. “Harry,” she barely manages to whisper around the thickness in her throat.

Harry’s quick to put the wine glass onto the coffee table in front of him as soon as he sees the tears. “Sweetheart?” he’s confused as she climbs into his lap, settling herself on his thighs and burying her face in his neck.

“I love you,” she sniffles into his chest, her tears rolling down her cheeks silently. “I love you so much. You’re the best, you’re so special to me, I love you.” This entire valentines day has made her so happy, and the fact that she’s tipsy on wine certainly doesn’t help her control over emotions. 

He lets out a chuckle that's a mixed sigh of relief, “Oh, sweetheart.” His hands smooth over her hair, and he pulls her up so that she’s no longer hiding in his neck and he can see her teary eyes. “I love you, you know I do,” he says, rubbing his thumb under her eyes and wiping away her tears. “My sweet girl, I love you more than you know.” 

She sniffles, and more tears come rolling down her face. “You do?” 

“F’course, m’love. Love seeing you, love being with you.” He kisses her cheek. “Please don’t cry, precious,” he whispers, “it hurts me. Don’t want t’see you crying.” 

“S-sorry.” She tries to gain control over her emotions, but every time she looks into Harry’s eyes and sees the warmth and adoration pouring from them, a new round of tears comes. “Harry, I love you,” she says again, holding onto his shirt to really make her point. “Wanted to tell you for so long, I-I love you so much. M’so glad you love me,” she sobs.

“Oh baby, you’re gonna make me start crying too,” he coos, running his thumb over her red bitten lips. “Can I put the necklace on for you? V’been wanting to see it on ever since I got it for you.”

She nods, sitting back and letting the last of her tears fall. Moving her hair out of the way, she bares her neck to him so that he can clasp the dainty chain at the nape of her neck. The heart shaped pendant rests delicately atop her chest, right below her collarbones and only a few inches away from her beating heart. She looks down at the necklace, playing with the locket and clicking it open to stare at the sweet picture inside.

“I love it,” she mumbles, letting it fall back down on her chest so that she can wrap her arms around Harry once more. 

He kisses her, “I love you.”

+++

After the tears, comes lots of wine. 

Harry genuinely finds it impossible to say no to y/n when she asks for a sip from his glass, especially when she climbs on his lap and blinks up at him so prettily. “Please?” she asks, resting her hands on his chest and watching as he sips from the glass. She bites her lip, watching as his tongue darts out to lick the remnants of the cherry wine off of his lips. 

“Y’sure you can handle more, baby?” he teases, his thumb tugging her lip out from between her teeth and watching it bounce back into place. His eyes flicker down to where his locket sits prettily atop her chest. This was his girl, sitting in his lap with his heart hanging around her neck. He looks back up at her, and she’s staring at him–puppy eyes and all–begging for a sip of the sweet wine. “Not sure a little girl like you should be having so much wine...” 

“M’not a little girl!” she grumbles, though she pouts like a little baby. 

He hums, amused, pressing small, wet kisses up the column of her throat. She tries to be mad at Harry’s teasing, eyebrows furrowed with an upset frown planted on her lips, but she can’t help the whine that bubbles from her throat when Harry licks and sucks at her neck so seductively. He whispers against her skin, “you think you deserve it?” 

“I-I do,” she barely manages to whimper out. 

“Let’s see then,” he murmurs, bringing the glass up to her lips. One of his large palms rests on her hip, holding her steady while his thumb draws soothing circles against the bare skin of her thigh. Her head is spinning from Harry’s constant teasing, and her mouth is dry from the way she was panting while Harry was kissing up her throat. The wine is a welcome refreshment, the sweet, aromatic liquid trickling into her mouth slowly as Harry feeds it to her. Her eyes flutter shut as she swallows. She feels Harry move underneath her hips and tries to sneakily get one last sip in before he pulls away the wine glass… but she ends up choking as Harry’s fingers graze against her clit.

She turns her head away, coughing harshly, clearing the wine that had snuck into her wind pipes and using the back of her hand to wipe away the wine that had sputtered out of her mouth. “Oh, sweetheart,” Harry pouts, mockingly, “you’ve made a mess.” She tries to glare at him, but can’t as another round of coughs takes over. He pats her back soothingly as she clears her throat some more, his thumb wiping away the tears that escape the corner of her eyes. 

“You see?” he says when she’s breathing properly again. “Daddy was right. You’re just a messy little baby. Y’need daddy to take care of you.”

“You’re mean,” she sniffles. 

“I’m mean?” he scoffs, “How m’I mean, darling?” 

“Y-You’re teasing.” 

“M’not teasing, puppy,” he says, cupping her jaw romantically, despite his mocking tone. “I just know what’s best for you. You’re too messy.”

She humphs, looking away from him.

“Don’t be like that, puppy,” he coos, voice low and smooth, pressing a sticky kiss to her cheek with his wine stained lips. “Y’know I’m right.” 

She feels her resolve crumbling as his hands slide up and down her thighs, his breath tickling her ear and lips skimming the shell of it. She can feel herself getting wet as Harry presses more hot kisses against her skin, her breath catching in her throat. When his hand slides into her hair and tilts her face towards his, she shows no resistance. His lips find hers and he kisses her, slow and hot. She sighs into his mouth, always finding pleasure in the feeling of his lips against hers, even if she might be mad at him for being stingy with the wine. 

He tastes like the sweet berries of the wine, his tongue slipping into her mouth and sliding against hers hotly. She supposes this will have to do, sucking on his tongue and moaning at the sweet taste of the wine that she’s so excited for. Her legs squeeze around his hips as she presses herself down, her fingers digging into his shoulders. She pulls off of his lips with a quiet moan as she feels Harry’s palm grinding against her clit over her soaked panties. He buries his face in her neck, kissing and sucking while she throws her head back and rubs herself down on her hand. 

“All this for me, puppy?” Harry groans into her skin. “Soaked through your panties already, n’I barely even touched you.” 

She whimpers, embarrassed but not embarrassed enough to stop rubbing herself on his hand.

“What’s got you so worked up, hm?” His fingers pinch her clit through her panties, then slide down to finger her dripping slit. She hides her face in his neck, turned on and overwhelmed. 

“Maybe you like it when Daddy’s a little bit mean,” he murmurs, his voice nothing more than a dark rumble in his chest. Her cheeks burn at how easily he figured out the truth, how she gave herself away by getting so wet when he teased her, mocked her, called her a little girl who needed Daddy to take care of her.

The tightening of y/n’s fingers on his shirt and the fact that she refuses to take her face out of his neck while rubbing herself on his fingers tells him his answer. He chuckles lowly, trying to softly coax her out of hiding, “S’okay baby. Don’t be embarrassed.” 

When she whines petulantly and refuses to look at him, his voice turns stern. “Come on, puppy. Stop hiding.”

Oh and that voice… he’s just found out her weakness and is using it against her! She goes moony for Harry when his voice goes low and his grip grows heavy. She pulls herself out of his neck and looks up at him with wide eyes.

“Good girl,” he murmurs softly, petting her face, “Such a good girl for daddy, hm?” She stays humble, simply blinking up at him innocently, even though she wants to whine at him that she’s the best girl and that he shouldn’t be teasing her so much. She doesn’t need to beg, though, as he mutters to himself, “I think you deserve a reward.” 

His thumb, which had been tracing over her bottom lip softly, sinks into her mouth, her pretty lips parting around his thick finger as he pulls her mouth open. “Keep it open, m’kay?” he whispers. Her eyes glimmer excitedly as he slips the finger out. 

Reaching for the long abandoned wine glass, he takes a sip– but doesn’t swallow. Instead, he leans towards y/n’s open mouth and connects their lips, letting the dark wine spill from his mouth into hers. Y/n squeaks excitedly, finally understanding what he’s doing and lapping up the wine from his mouth quickly. Her fingers twist into his shirt unconsciously and she grinds down on his lap like an eager little puppy, trying to get as close to him as possible. She licks and sucks on his tongue, kisses him to lap up any of the wine left over on his lips, and swallows it down sweetly. When she pulls off, her eyes are blown out and her lips are stained red. 

That was more of a treat for him than for her, he thinks, with how eagerly she kissed him and rubbed herself on his lap. Harry can’t help the chuckle that falls from his lips, his cocky dimple popping out on his cheek. “See how much better it is when Daddy does it?”

She doesn’t even have it in her to process his mocking words, mesmerized by him. She wants to keep kissing him, feel his hands all over her skin, drown in him. She leans in for a kiss, but each time her lips graze his he jerks his head back, mouth open in a teasing smirk. She pouts, staring at him with wide, pleading eyes.

Only when she’s sitting patiently does he give in, pressing his lips against hers and kissing her top lip. She presses herself into the kiss, her eyebrows furrowing with need as her hands grip the lapels of his shirt. A soft whimper escapes her when Harry’s fingers are back on her core, fingering up and down her soaked panties and tracing over her clit. He sneaks his hand into the front of her panties, his palm sliding slowly over her mound until his fingers feel the soft bud of her clit. 

She gasps into his mouth as his fingers start circling, soft and gentle swipes that make her twitch. His touch is so light, his fingers barely pressing down… but still it makes her whine and whimper, a burning feeling bubbling in her tummy. She’s already so close, but can you blame her? She’s been aching for him all night, literally has been yearning to feel his hands since they left the winery. She’s been eyeing his hands, with his strong fingers and thick knuckles and veins running up to his tattooed forearms. His warm palm, which he’d rested on her thigh the entire drive home. His soft thumb, which he’s been circling on her hip all night. 

And god, he’d looked so good tonight!!! It might be the wine that’s making her so extra horny, but Harry’s just so… hot. Not only is he smart and polite and gentlemanly, he’s also the most attractive man to walk the face of this earth. With his stubble and his broad back and strong arms… his pretty green eyes and his lips… his cocky smirk… he’s just such a man. He’s not like the stupid boys at school… he’s her sexy older boyfriend who takes her out for dinner and then fucks her til she’s crying. 

His tongue slips into her mouth at the same time that he slides a finger into her slit, the thick digit wiggling its way through her plushy walls to pet at the spot that makes her clench around him. He can only fit one of his big fingers into her tight hole, and the fit is so snug that it makes his eyes roll into the back of his head. His mouth is open as he kisses her, half of his mind focused on making sure to pet her in all the right places, while the other half tries to keep up with her eager kisses. He’s breathing her in, lips puckering around anything he can reach and his tongue sliding against hers, desperate to just taste her even if it makes their kiss a little messy.

Her breathing stutters and a high pitched squeak escapes her when he starts trying to work a second finger into her. She squeezes tight at the anticipation of it, making it hard for him to get another finger in there without hurting her. “Relax, baby,” he murmurs against her lips, retreating the second finger and rubbing at her clit a little bit more until she’s no longer clenching around him so hard. 

“Feels really good, daddy,” she whispers, her mouth in an open pout, too overwhelmed to try and keep kissing him. 

“I know sweetheart,” he murmurs back, lips skimming over her neck as he breathes in her sweet scent, before migrating back to her lips. He groans out lightly as he attempts to sink a second finger again, this time proving more successful as her pussy flutters open for him. He curls his fingers against her front wall while his thumb continues rolling against her clit, a motion that she’s never able to recreate when she’s trying to do it herself. Any form of pleasure has been ruined for her if it’s not coming from Harry’s hands, or his mouth, or his cock… he’s set the bar too high. 

Their mouths just hang open together, panting into each other’s mouths as Harry’s fingers work her towards her end, their tongues touching and lips puckering every once in a while as they attempt a really messy kiss. 

There’s a ringing in her ears as her heart starts to pound faster in her chest, Harry’s fingers setting a rhythm that sends jolts up her spine. She falls into his chest, fingers digging into his suit and her face burying in his neck as she tries to catch her breath.

“Doesn’t it feel nice when Daddy takes care of you?” Harry murmurs in her ear. The wine in his system and his love for y/n have got him going heavy on the words… but she obviously loves it. 

“So good,” she whimpers into his throat.

“Y’like my fingers in your little pussy, hm? Like it when I rub your pretty clit like this?” 

She whines again, nodding her head but unable to formulate any words.

“Come on, puppy, use your words… tell daddy how much you love it.”

“Love you, daddy,” she says, fuzzy headed, just seconds away from her climax.

He chuckles warmly. That wasn’t what he asked for, but it’ll do. “I love you too, sweetheart,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her head. “Come on, cum for daddy. Let me hear you.” 

She moans loudly, fluttering round his fingers and rutting her hips as an orgasm takes over her body. With her head thrown back, she feels no shyness in whining out, as she cums, daddy falling from her lips desperately, which he swallows up in a kiss, soothing her through her peak. 

+++

The next morning, she surprisingly wakes up clear headed and well rested. With how wine drunk she was the night before, she’d expected to wake up with a pounding headache and her stomach turning uneasily. 

But then she remembers how Harry tucked her into bed the night before, how he’d taken her into the bathroom and brushed her teeth for her because she was too loose-limbed to do it herself. And then he’d slipped her out of her dress, kissed her shoulders gently as he dressed her in one of his big t-shirts, and given her a pair of clean panties to sleep in. He’d let her rest her head on his chest when they climbed in bed, and petted her hair while she whined about how much she loved him, chuckled sweetly when she started kissing his chest even though she was on the brink of sleep.

When she started to get fussy again, her pressed to his chest, “you’re the most precious thing in my life.”irt in an attempt to get him naked again in a haze of drunk horniness, he slipped his thumb into her mouth, let her suckle on his finger to distract her. He talked to her with a soft voice, murmured sweet words about how much he loved her. “Love you so much, sweetheart,” he whispered as she fell asleep with her ear words muffled by his thumb.

“Love you,” she whispered back sleepily, her words muffled by his thumb.

When he thought she’d fallen asleep, he stopped petting at her hair and tried to get up to brush his own teeth – but she whined in her sleep at that, her legs wrapping around his thigh to keep him in bed and her eyebrows furrowing as though she was going to start crying in her sleep. He’d hushed her, resuming his previous position as though he hadn’t even tried to leave, and stayed like that, just watching her sleep, until her grip on him loosened and he was finally able to slip away silently. 

He returned as soon as he brushed his teeth and took off his expensive suit, now lying next to y/n with his lips pursed in a sleepy pout and his eyebrows furrowed. Even in his sleep, he looks grumpy… it makes y/n smile. She smooths her thumb over the wrinkle between his brows, and he evidently relaxes in his sleep. 

She presses a kiss to his cheek, thinking that she’s being sneaky and sneaking a kiss before he wakes up, but when she tries to pull away he grabs her wrist. “Another one,” he mumbles, eyes still closed.

She giggles, and presses a soft kiss to his other cheek. “Another,” he repeats, and she kisses his nose. “Another,” and she kisses his jaw. 

“Another–” he tries to say again, but she cuts him off. 

“Oh my gosh, Harry,” she laughs. “Just wake up already.” 

He smiles at the sound of her laugh, a sleepy smile that's soft enough so only one of his dimples pops out. His eyes flutter open, eyelashes like delicate little butterflies, and his green eyes meet hers. They look so clear and bright in the morning, a spring green that glimmers in the morning light. “Hi,” he says, staring up at her, “I love you.”

Her heart jumps at those three words, and she has to restrain herself from jumping out of the bed to have a total freak out over the fact that Harry loves her. Obviously she loves him – she has for a while. But she worried that she’d been nervous that Harry wouldn’t feel the same way. Maybe she was just this over-emotional little girl who fell in love way too quickly, and if she told him… he’d be grossed out or something and break up with her. 

If she were in her right mind, she never would’ve confessed that she loved him in such a vulnerable moment. She curses her drunk self for being so loose-lipped… but at least it ended in a happy way. Harry loved her back! 

And it’s the first thing he wants to tell her in the morning.

“I love you,” she whispers back bashfully. Harry can tell that the three words make her shy, and it only makes him love her even more. He pulls her into his chest for a bear hug, arms wrapping around her and completely engulfing her. 

He doesn’t want to let go of her, wants to hold her in his arms forever and just fall back asleep like this… but then her tummy rumbles. Her stomach is always making some type of noise, and even though it embarrasses her, he can’t help the laugh that tumbles out of his chest.

“Pancakes?” he asks.

She hums, “Mm, yeah. Can I make coffee with your fancy machine?”

“Only if you promise not to burn yourself.”

+++

That’s why, after quitting her last attempt at a campus job, y/n decided to go job hunting in the nice part of town. Sure, it was a bit far from the one bedroom college apartment she lived in… but in her opinion, the 30 minute walk was entirely worth it.

The buildings downtown were a completely different world from the university buildings she had initially limited herself to. All the venues were high class, with chandeliers and marble floors and air conditioning. 20 floor tall corporate buildings painted the sky, bustling with men wearing $50,000 watches and women in pantsuits that probably cost more than y/n’s entire wardrobe. Across the street from those skyscrapers were shopping centers with department stores that had that same high-class, expensive look to them. They were the kind of designer stores that served their shoppers champagne while they looked at luxury bags and expensive shoes― the kind of stores that laughed at y/n when she stumbled in with her tote bag and tattered shoes, asking for job openings. 

She knew that she wasn’t the type of person who belonged in that area. She was a broke college student― the most expensive thing she had in her closet was a pair of boots that she’d splurged on after she soaked her only pair of sneakers while walking to class in the rain. But her brokenness was the precise reason that she needed a job in the part of the city where it was a social norm to tip more than 20%. 

She considers herself superbly lucky that she’d mustered up the courage to go into Pleasing after an entire day of being laughed out of stores due to her “lack of elegance and sophistication” or whatever the fuck they managed to criticize her for. Somehow, she’d stumbled into the restaurant on the very same night that one of the other waitresses had been fired! (If she thinks hard enough, she vaguely remembers a girl wearing an apron running out of the restaurant crying, but she hadn’t paid any mind to it at the time as she was too distracted by the glittering chandelier that hung from the sitting room ceiling.)

Pleasing’s staff manager (an older, balding man named Alfredo, who had a mustache that twisted up at the ends and carried a handkerchief to wipe the sweat off of his forehead every five minutes), had been so frantic at the fact that they were yet another waitress short, that y/n had nearly been hired on the spot. She only received a brief interview that consisted of a few questions about her past experience in the service industry and a quick briefing on the importance of maintaining a high class appearance and treating their customers with the utmost respect. Y/n blindly agreed to all of this, and even hummed her agreement a few times just to butter Alfredo up, figuring that it wouldn’t be too hard to maintain a classy facade while dealing with these high-class customers. If it paid the bills, then she could pretend to be anything. 

Her job offer was a quick, “You’re cute enough. Be here tomorrow at 6, your uniform will be provided― hair must be up, shoes must be black, and smile must always be on!” …and that was how she started. 

She had somewhat of an idea of how expensive a restaurant Pleasing actually was from the general atmosphere of the place― but when she saw the menu… that’s when she truly realized that she was in the world of the upper-class. Each plate was $70, at minimum, and there was always a bottle of $200 wine to accompany the meal. The food was served on the most expensive fine china y/n had ever seen, with the kind of silver cutlery that she thinks you could only find in Buckingham Palace. The patrons had an unspoken dress code, with the men dressed in well pressed suits and button downs, and the ladies in cocktail dresses and sparkling diamonds. There was no sign of children anywhere, and she wondered if that was just because the rich people who ate at Pleasing were too busy making money to make babies… or if it was just a child-free restaurant. 

When she showed up for her first day (with her hair twisted into a bun, a pair of black ballet flats that she got in the clearance bins of one of the department stores nearby, and an anxious smile plastered on her face!) Alfredo assigned her to spend the entire shift shadowing one of the other waitresses (Grace) to ensure that she knew exactly what kind of hospitality was expected towards the people they served. As they walked from table to table, she gave y/n the rundown of how Pleasing worked. Apparently, the restaurant was owned by this millionaire chef who rarely ever actually cooked at the restaurant. He had four Michelin stars (y/n doesn’t really know what that means but she guesses it means he’s a good cook) and usually was traveling around the world, cooking for royals and politicians and all sorts of important people. 

Occasionally, he would have special nights where he would come back for “In-Chef Nights” as they called it, nights where people were willing to pay nearly a thousand dollars just to have their food cooked by Chef Styles― the world-renowned, multi-millionaire, gourmet chef. Those were the busiest nights of the year at Pleasing, according to Grace, but they only happened maybe once a month. Even on the nights Chef Styles wasn’t there, however, having the Styles name tied to the restaurant was enough for people to want a table at the restaurant to try his famous recipes and quality service. 

“He’s kind of a big deal,” Grace had whispered to y/n while grabbing a saffron and lobster Risotto from the counter to take out to a couple seated on the restaurant balcony. “I’ve never met him, but I’ve heard he’s super intimidating. Kinda mean too, he fires people all the time if they aren’t up to his standards.”

From that night when she was hired, all the way into about a month of working at Pleasing, y/n had never had an encounter with Mr. Styles either. She’d been allowed to start waiting on tables by herself starting her second night there, and quickly came to learn that the customers that she served were… not ordinary.

Simply put, the people who ate at Pleasing were all… pompous, rich assholes with no decency or basic manners. They barely acknowledged y/n when she was serving them, gave her nasty side-eyes when she smiled at them, and made her feel downright awful from the way they looked down on her. 

There was always some douchebag who would try to sweet talk y/n in exchange for a free cocktail, or a middle-aged woman who would complain about everything and demand that her food be sent back to the kitchen. They’d make up some bullshit about how they had asked for no sesame seeds on their curry, when y/n knew damn well that they hadn’t mentioned anything about any sort of seeds when she had taken their order. Old men would blatantly stare at her chest, while their younger, model dates would make snarky comments about how y/n’s ballet flats were so last season while she walked away from their tables. She didn’t even know that there was a season for shoes, but it still hurt her feelings! 

Now normally, y/n was able to put up a strong front and just ignore the rude customers. She’d force a smile and a polite “I’m sorry to hear that miss, let me get you a new plate right away,” and just imagine punching those people in the face to help herself calm down. 

But tonight… it all just got to be too much. She’d already had a shitty day at school― she’d slept through her alarm and was late to her morning class, had a physics midterm that she’s pretty sure she failed, and accidentally left her calculus notebook at her apartment, which meant she had to take her calculus notes in her physics notebook instead (and she really hates when her notes get mixed up because she honestly has no idea what's going on in either class anyway so it just becomes extra confusing!!!).

So when one of her customers with graying hair and obvious anger issues threw his drink on y/n and called her an ‘incompetent, stupid girl’ after he decided that his merlot hadn’t been chilled properly… well y/n really couldn’t hold back the tears for much longer. 

She managed to politely tell the man that she’d send someone to clean up and help him resolve the issues with his meal, before scurrying to the kitchen to find Grace.

“Oh, what’s wrong sweetheart!” Grace coos as soon as she sees y/n’s tear glazed eyes and stained shirt. 

“H-he threw his drink on me,” she blubbers out, her hands rubbing furiously at her eyes as if she could just erase the tears threatening to spill. 

Grace gasps, “He didn’t! Oh, I’ll go out there n’give him a piece of my mind right now, bubbles. You need a second to get yourself together?” 

Y/n nods, sniffling harshly and letting out a shaky breath. 

“M’kay,” Grace pulls her in for a hug, “you go and sit outside for however long y’need, ‘n I’ll cover the rest of your tables until you’re ready, ‘kay? I’ll try n’find you a shirt too sweetie, don’t worry about anything, just go n’get some fresh air.” 

Y/n bleats out a small (but gracious) thank you, before running out of the back entrance to the employee parking lot behind the restaurant. She just needs a little bit of time for herself, a second to let all the tears out and to cry her troubles away. A moment to just privately recollect herself so that she could go back to work with a fresh mind. 

She’s startled when she finds that the parking lot isn't empty the way she’d expected. Instead, she steps out and sees two guys. One of them she recognizes as Kevin – an assistant chef who works in the kitchen― but the other one is facing away from her, just an intimidating figure in the dark. The mystery man stands a few inches taller than Kevin, dressed in a dark, well-pressed suit that seems as though it’s been tailored to fit him perfectly. The jacket compliments his broad shoulders and lean waist, cutting off right above his hips to show the way his pants hug his thighs. They flare out at the bottom elegantly to reveal a pair of sleek, black boots with a small heel on them. 

Y/n is so intrigued by the mystery man, that she doesn’t even realize that she’s walked in on a heated discussion between the two of them. “You could’ve fuckin’ killed a customer!” the man yells at Kevin, “Cos’ your head was up y’fuckin ass! You’re lucky they noticed there were peanuts in the lady’s meal or else we would’ve had to call a fucking ambulance n’ it would’ve been on your ass!” 

Y/n thinks they might be talking about the one customer that came in tonight with a severe nut allergy, but she’s not entirely sure.

Kevin holds his poofy little chef hat in his hands as he pipes up, “I was just―”

“You were what? Too busy texting y’pals to pay attention to the notes on the order? There’s a fucking rule against having your phone in the kitchen for a reason you idiot!” The man shakes his head exasperatedly and lets out a disbelieving sigh, “Get out of here, you’re fired. Don’t even think about puttin’ this restaurant on your references because m’not gonna say anything nice.” 

As Kevin stomps away angrily, the man turns on his heel and heads back towards the restaurant, finally allowing y/n to see his face. He’s not someone she’s ever seen around the restaurant before, but considering how he just fired someone, she assumes he must be important. Despite the way his green eyes glimmer prettily in the outdoor lighting, the man is terribly intimidating, with furrowed eyebrows and a hard glare. When those hard eyes flicker up to look at y/n, who’s still standing in the doorway, she feels her heart skip a beat. 

“What are you doing out here?” the man asks her, a harsh bite to his tone. Y/n flinches, not ready to face yet another dickhead that might make her cry. 

“Um,” she sniffles, wiping away her tears and stuttering out in the most put-together voice she can muster, “A-a customer spilled their wine on me so I’m just, um, quickly cleaning up.”

He steps closer to her, now standing directly in front of her and looking down. He’s a head taller than her, his heeled boots giving him an extra inch that just adds to his intimidating demeanor. 

He had immediately recognized the waitressing uniform that she was wearing, and had been incredibly irritated at the thought of another one of his employees slacking off on such a busy night. But when he hears her shaky voice and sees her tear-stained cheeks… he lets a little bit of the sternness in his voice fade away, eyes softening just the slightest bit. Not too much (he couldn’t have one of his employees thinking he was a big softie…), but just enough so that he maybe wouldn’t make her feel worse than she already seemed to.

“Come with me,” he orders, brushing past her and trusting that she’d follow behind him. Knowing that this guy must be important, she doesn’t hesitate one bit, her head down as she trails after him like a lost puppy, trying to hide her puffy eyes and sniffly nose from the rest of the staff. He leads her into a room that she’s never been in, some sort of office with plaques hanging on the walls and a big, professional desk covered in paperwork. 

He pulls out a chair and gestures towards it. “Sit.”

She plops down obediently, and a soft smirk dimples his cheek.

“Good,” he says. “Now stay.” 

She nods.

With that, he steps out of his office and closes the door behind him. He hadn’t expected to be cooking at all tonight, but with the hurt little puppy sitting in his office, he really felt as though he had no choice!

“Evening Mr. Styles,” one of the chefs in the kitchen greets him, “Everything alright?” 

“Yes, thank you Teddy,” Harry responds pleasantly, Teddy being one of his first and favorite chefs to come work for him at Pleasing, “Can y’get one of the stove tops ready for me? Need to make something really quickly.” 

“Of course, sir,” Teddy wipes his hands dry, “I’m assuming Kevin won’t be coming back?” 

Harry shakes his head in confirmation, the furrow in his brow returning at the thought of the ignorant chef. He’d need to have a talk with Alfredo about the recent hires – his business was better than someone as careless as Kevin.

“Y’can take his station then,” Teddy offers. “S’still hot, pots all cleaned too.” 

Taking off his suit and rolling up the sleeves of his button down, he decides to make her a little bit of mac n cheese― a classic comfort food, right? Except, because he’s Harry Styles (aka one of the best chefs in the nation), he takes it to the next level. The pasta is fresh and handmade in their kitchen, parmesan grated from a gigantic sphere that was imported from France, with truffle oil and Italian basil to top it all off. He doesn’t even bother trying it; if he made it, then he knows it’s good. 

Plating the dish is second nature to him, easily displaying the pasta and putting decorative herbs and dollops of Béchamel sauce around the main meal. With a single fork in hand, he grabs the plate and takes it back to his office.

The waitress jumps up in her seat when Harry pushes the door open, startled by his entrance and generally just intimidated by his sharp jawline and gorgeous face. Her eyes widen at the sight of the food in his hand, glimmering with excitement that she fails to conceal. It’s cute, Harry admits to himself, the way she perks up like an excited little puppy at the sight of a gourmet meal. He puts the plate in front of her and sticks the fork in her hand. 

She looks up at him with wide eyes, and doesn’t make a move to start eating until Harry tells her to “try it,” as if she had been waiting for his permission to dig in. “Mm!” her eyes flutter shut as she chews the creamy pasta, “I didn’t even know we had this on the menu, it’s so good!” 

It actually wasn’t on the menu, but he wasn’t going to ruin her fun.

“Have you tried some of this? S’so yummy, you have to try some!” she tells him, sticking a forkful out for him to try. He wants to tell her that he already knows it’s good because he made it, but– just to humor her– he wraps his lips around the fork and eats it straight from her hand. He tries not to visibly show how pleased he is with the reaction he gets from her― her mouth falls slightly ajar and her eyes stare at his plump, pink lips as they pull off of the fork. 

“Mm,” Harry hums, a slight teasing lilt to his words, “oh yeah, that is really good.” He lets her praise the food a little bit more before casually asking, “I put a little truffle oil on there, could you tell?” 

She pauses mid-chew and asks slowly, “Y-you made this?” He nods smugly, a smirk plastered on his face. 

She had assumed a chef in the kitchen had just randomly put this together… not for this man to go out in his fancy clothes to make her a plate of the best mac n cheese she’s ever had. “Oh my gosh, I didn’t realize you were one of the chefs here,” she stutters out. “m’kind of new at the restaurant… the pasta was really good, I like the kind of earthy, garlic-y taste, is that the truffle oil― “

She’s cut off by a knock on the door and a concerned looking Grace stumbling in saying, “Y/n, are you in here― oh!” Grace’s eyes widen and her jaw drops a bit before she splutters, “Oh, I’m so sorry for interrupting Mr. Styles.” 

“What is it?” he asks, not so nicely.

Grace’s eyes flicker to y/n, “I― um, just brought an extra shirt for y/n, sir. Since her other uniform got ruined.” She places the shirt on the table right next to the door, “I’ll just leave it right here, excuse me sir.” 

With a nod, Harry gives Grace permission to leave the room and shut the door behind her, the blonde waitresses scurrying out of the room as quickly as she can. When his head turns back to y/n, her eyes are wide and surprised. 

This was Mr. Styles? As in, the world famous, Michelin star chef? As in the owner of this multi-million dollar restaurant? As in her literal boss? 

She was just casually sitting here, eating a plate of gourmet mac-n-cheese with a guy who just so happened to be her boss, when she was supposed to be out there working? 

Her demeanor immediately changes, and Harry can see that y/n is finally connecting all the dots in her head. That smug smirk of his spreads on his lips once more, an amused dimple in his cheek as he props his chin in his hand and watches the way y/n puts the fork down and sits up straighter. 

“Um― thank you for the meal Mr. Styles,” she stammers, slowly rising from her seat, “I suppose I should get back to work now…”

“Nonsense,” he says. She sits back down immediately. “You’ll stay here and finish your food. Someone else will cover your tables for you.” 

“Yes sir,” she squeaks politely. Harry’s beyond amused by how she suddenly turned into this polite little girl as soon as she realized who he was, and thinks he could get used to the words sir and Mr. Styles falling from her heart shaped lips. 

He asks her a bunch of questions while she’s eating, and y/n briefly worries if that’s his way of trying to decide if he should fire her or not. She’s really trying to be on her best behavior, using her most polite voice and etiquette when talking to him ― but things are kind of slipping because Harry’s eyes are flickering all over her face and he’s so put together and intimidating and hot and it’s making her nervous!!! She’s stumbling over her words and forgetting the answers to simple questions because she’s so distracted by his sharp jawline, and honestly… Harry loves it.  He loves how shy and polite she is, and loves seeing the way he can get her all flustered. That’s honestly the only reason he keeps interrogating her ― just to hear her cute little yes sir and no sir and to see how she nervously bites her lips between each question. 

When she’s finished with her food and the redness of her eyes has died down, Harry cleans up her plate for her and throws her the shirt that Grace had brought. “Take the rest of the night off,” he says, opening his office door to step out and give her a bit of privacy so she can change. “Next time I won’t be so easy on you, okay?”

She stands up, alert and still buzzing with nerves and peeps out a final “Yes sir!” before Harry closes the door, shaking his head with a small chuckle.

˙· .° ｡  ˚ ｡  ° . · ˚ ˙ · . ° ｡ ˚ ｡  ° . · ˙ · .° ｡ ˚ ｡ °.  · ˙ ‧̍̊  

Grace really wasn’t kidding when she warned y/n about how busy Pleasing could get when Chef Styles was cooking. 

From the moment she arrived to the moment the very last table finished dining, y/n was on her feet. She’d barely managed to put her stuff down in the staff room before Alfredo was pushing her out into the dining hall, muttering something about “Chef Styles” and “is going to kill me.” They had back to back reservations, a waitlist with nearly a three hour delay, and a bustling kitchen packed with chefs. The waiters were buzzing between tables like little bees, constantly checking on customers and rushing to the back counter to pick up meals and deliver them to tables. Laughter and conversation rang throughout the entire restaurant, echoing on the high ceilings and glass chandeliers, chaotically harmonizing with the sizzling of vegetables and clatter of pots that came from the kitchen. 

Mr. Styles worked gracefully despite all the chaos ensuing around him. He always made sure that everyone knew what they were supposed to be doing before any customers arrived to ensure that there would be no screw ups or accidents, and nobody dared stray away from the job Chef Styles assigned them. Dressed in his white chef’s suit with the sleeves pushed up his forearms, he prepped each meal in the blink of an eye and moved on to the next dish immediately – quick, efficient, and absolutely delicious. 

By the end of the night, his feet are pounding from standing up for seven hours straight and his fingers (which are normally quite nimble and flexible) feel stiff and just about ready to fall off. He supervises the staff as they close the restaurant for the night, helping them do the dishes and wrap cutlery in preparation for opening tomorrow, and waits in his office until he’s the last one in the restaurant. Sometime between the time the last customer left and the time that he’s about to leave the restaurant it starts to rain outside. So, before shutting off the lights, he grabs an umbrella, and finally leaves his office at about 2:30 in the morning. 

The sound of his boots clicking against the polished tile floor is all that can be heard as he walks through the foyer, his head down as he types out a message on his phone – that is, until he hears a tiny, kitten-like sneeze.

He stops in his tracks, looking up, and stares hard into the darkness. He takes a few, cautious steps closer towards the door, until he can make out a faint silhouette.  It’s y/n – bundled up in a cute little hoodie with what he presumes is her university’s logo embroidered on the front, and her bag clutched tightly to her chest.

“Y/n,” he calls out. “What are you still doing here?” 

She jumps at the sound of his voice, her shoulders tense as she timidly walks out of the corner she’d seemingly been hiding in. “Oh, I’m just waiting for the rain to lighten up a little bit before I walk home, Mr. Styles. Promise I’ll leave soon!” 

His eyes nearly pop out of his head – walk home? At this time of night? He strides over to where she’s standing, “Have y’not got a car? Or a metro pass, at least?”

“No, no car…” she explains with a small frown on her face, “N’the metro near my school doesn’t come up towards downtown. S’too fancy around here for a sketchy little metro.”

He looks down at the way she’s hugging herself tightly, her hands tucked into the sleeves of her sweatshirt in an effort to keep warm. She’ll freeze to death if she tries to walk home, he thinks to himself. Even wrapped in his expensive Burberry coat, the thought of walking in that rainy weather sends a chill down his spine. 

He sighs. “Come on,” he says, “M’not letting you walk home in the rain.”

He opens the restaurant doors and sticks his umbrella out first, opening it and stepping under seamlessly so that not even a drop of rain stains his suit. She blinks at him dumbfounded. Still holding the door, he gestures for y/n to follow him, “Come on pup, haven’t got all day.” 

She scurries under the umbrella with him, standing close as he locks the door behind them. The rain is pounding down hard and his umbrella isn’t very large, so he wraps an arm around her waist and hastily guides her to his car. 

Now, y/n’s no expert on cars, but the large, black range rover that her boss unlocks the doors to seems like a pretty fancy car! She struggles to climb into the passengers side when Mr. Styles opens the door for her, so he holds a hand out to help her up into the seat and shuts the door behind her. As she buckles herself in, he quickly runs over to the driver’s seat, shaking his umbrella off outside and carelessly throwing it in the backseats. 

He notices that y/n’s arms are still wrapped around herself super tightly, trying to hide that her whole body is shivering from the cold, so as soon as he turns the car on, he leans over to her side and turns the heat up for her. That – along with the press of a few more buttons on the center console that turns on the heated seating – has y/n sighing blissfully as she sinks back into the comfy leather seats.

“Thank you so much Mr. Styles,” she says, wiggling her fingers happily in front of the blasting hot air. 

“You would’ve frozen to death if you walked home in this weather,” he grumbles, pulling out his phone and handing it to her. “Put in y’address.”

She does as he says obediently, her numb fingers making her fumble a little bit when she tries to type on his phone – the latest iphone, she notices from the extra two cameras on the back. 

He glances briefly at the location she’s typed in, before flicking on his windshield wipers and reversing out of his reserved parking spot. 

His speakers automatically started playing some soft classical music, creating a gentle atmosphere in the otherwise silent car. As he’s driving, he can see her fidgeting around nervously in her seat. Her fingers twist anxiously in her lap, the inside of her cheek being assaulted by her nervous chewing, and she keeps looking over at Harry, burning holes in the side of his head.

“Have I got something on my face?” he asks abruptly. 

“W-what?” 

“Y’keep staring,” he explains, glancing over at her when they stop at a red light. To no surprise, he catches her… staring at him. She quickly turns away, opting to stare at her hands instead. 

“Sorry,” she says, “I was just… watching you drive.”

He snorts. “Watching me drive?”

She fumbles over her words, struggling to explain herself. “Yeah, you’re just– like you… you just drive really cool.” She only realizes how stupid she sounds once the words come out of her mouth. 

“I drive cool?” 

She grimaces and turns to him slowly, “M’sorry, that probably doesn’t make any sense.”

His expression is entirely amused, a smirk on his face that he’s trying to cover with his hand. “Please, explain it to me then,” he begs with a teasing tone. 

“You’re just like, driving with one hand on the wheel and listening to this fancy music in your fancy car… it just looks like you’re from a movie or something.” Not to mention how sharp his jawline looked from the side. Or how attractive the furrow in his brow was. Or how his white dress shirt was rolled up at the sleeves to reveal his strong, tattooed forearms. But she wasn’t about to say all that to him. She needs to stop talking before she embarrasses herself any further! “It’s stupid, I’m sorry. I’ll stop staring.”

“Didn’t say I minded it,” he says simply. With a teasing smirk still planted on his face, he pulls up in front of y/n’s apartment complex. Despite the fact that it’s pouring outside, Harry still offers to walk her up to her door.

“Oh no, I couldn’t make you do that!” He’d already gone out of his way to drive her home, she thinks making him get out of his car just to walk her up would be asking way too much of her boss.

“At least take the umbrella then,” he says, grabbing it from the back and giving it to her. She opens her mouth to protest, but he gives her this look that makes her just shut up and take it. 

“Thanks, Mr. Styles. I really appreciate it.” 

He rolls his eyes, “Just don’t forget it next time it’s scheduled to rain.” 

He watches as she opens the apartment door, and only pulls away after she’s turned back, waved at him, and closes the door behind her. 

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When y/n walks to the restaurant the next day, it’s raining once again. She takes Mr. Styles’ umbrella with her to shield her from the drizzle, and arrives at the restaurant a bit breathless, but nonetheless dry. 

As she’s clocking in, Harry happens to walk past. He sees his umbrella in her hand, droplets dripping onto the floor, and smiles to himself. 

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Harry’s grown some sort of… fondness towards y/n. 

How could he not? The first time he’d met her she’d been crying, looking up at him with her puppy dog eyes and tear stained cheeks. She’d complimented his cooking, and been all sweet and polite while he talked to her, calling him sir and Mr. Styles with her pouty lips. 

And then when he’d driven her home… she looked so pretty sitting in the front seat of his car, rambling on and on about his cool driving and fancy car. It made him soft! She was young and innocent and just the cutest little thing. He loves how flustered she gets when he teases her, how she fumbles over her words when she doesn’t know what to say. So you really can’t blame him for keeping his eye on her. 

Whenever he’s in his office, he’ll keep his ears open in hopes of hearing her pretty voice ringing through the halls, escorting guests or calling out orders to the chefs. He loves listening to her chat with the cooks, and finds himself laughing silently at some of her silly remarks. (“Guys help!!! Where are the oysters from? Like are they local? I know it’s a stupid question but one of the customers wants to know! Should I lie and say they’re imported from the Caribbean? Like… how would they know that I’m lying? Okay, fine whatever I’ll just say they’re caught locally every morning! Thanks bye!!!”)

With this newfound fondness, he’s also grown quite… protective of her. He often talks with Alfredo to see if y/n’s been getting along with the other waiters, and discretely checks that she hasn’t encountered any other rude or disrespectful customers. He figures that he’d prefer to kick some snobby lady out of his restaurant rather than see y/n all teary eyed again.

These smushy feelings are all new to Harry, and he doesn’t really know what they meant just yet… all he knows is that he had a soft spot for y/n. And he’ll be damned if he didn’t show a bit of favoritism towards her. 

Sitting in his office, working on some paperwork for the building, he hears her shuffling down towards the kitchen. (Yes, with how attentive he’s been recently, he’s learned to distinguish the sounds of her footsteps from the rest of the waiters.)

“‘Scuse me Edgar!” she calls out to one of the cooks, “Y’know the cod that you’re working on for table 67? She just asked for the romesco to be put on the side instead. D’ya think you could change that real quick?”

“Man, are you kidding me y/n! I already put it on there!”

“I know, I know I’m sorry!” she whines embarrassedly, cheeks heating at the bite in Edgar’s voice, “she just stopped me right now and asked for it!”

Edgar gives y/n an exasperated sigh, “Great, m’gonna have to make a new one! And we’re so fuckin’ busy tonight, this is fuckin’ brilliant–” 

“Hey!” Harry’s assertive voice booms through the kitchen, cutting Edgar off mid-rant. “S’not her fault that the lady changed her order, is it?” His stern gaze is burning on Edgar, making his cheeks turn red. 

“No sir,” the chef responds apologetically.

“Apologize to y/n.”

Edgar turns to her, “Sorry y/n. Wasn’t your fault, m’just being hot headed for no reason.”

“S’okay, I get it. It’s frustrating,” she says softly, shocked at the fact that Mr. Styles was making one of the chefs apologize to her! She’s just a silly little waitress! She was used to being belittled by the older, more established staff.

“Good. Don’t want t’hear any complaining from anyone, or else you’re getting fired. Understood?”

A chorus of “yes sir” echoes around the kitchen. 

Y/n stands there, speechless at the fact that Mr. Styles had made such a bold move to defend her. When he catches her staring, he simply winks, giving her that cocky smirk of his and turning on his heel, back into his office as if nothing had happened. 

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During her 15 minute break, y/n tiptoes to Mr. Styles’ office and quietly knocks at the door, entering cautiously when she hears him grunt out a less than welcoming “come in.”

“Um, Mr. Styles?” she announces nervously. The furrow in his brow immediately disappears when he recognizes that it’s y/n. “I-I just wanted to say thanks for, um, sticking up for me today? Or- I mean… just thanks for getting the chefs to go easier on me, I guess.” Her fingers twist nervously behind her back, and it’s taking everything in her to look Mr. Styles in the eye when she’s talking to him. His gaze is just so intense, and she has no idea what he’s thinking… it makes her nervous! 

He’s quiet for a second, deliberating what she’s just said, before cracking a smile and shaking his head. “You don’t have t’thank me, pet. M’not gonna let the chefs be dicks to m’favorite waitress.”  

Her heart jumps out of her chest at that, cheeks flushing in a way that she really hopes Mr. Styles can’t see. With this flattery, she can’t help but drop her gaze to her feet, contemplating the floor as she mumbles out, “I– well, still. Thanks.” 

Harry laughs to himself, dragging a hand down his face. She’s so… cute when she’s all flustered like this! It makes him want to tease her all the time. “Yeah, yeah,” he brushes it off playfully, “now get back t’work.” 

She twirls on her heels, ready to run out of the room and freak out about this encounter in the privacy of the employee bathroom.

“Oh, y/n?” Harry calls out just before she walks out the door. She looks back at him with those eager puppy eyes. “M’gonna drive you home tonight as well. Come to my office when you’ve finished your shift and we’ll leave together.”

The smile that lights up her face is one of a giddy school girl with a playground crush. 

“M’kay,” she says casually. But on the inside, she is Freaking. The Fuck. Out.

Yay!!!!

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This time, once the restaurant closes and all the employees and staff have left, y/n doesn’t head out into the darkness for her usual 30 minute walk home.

No, this time she heads towards Mr. Styles’ office, clutching her trusty tote bag to her chest to try and mute the feeling of the butterflies swarming her entire body. She has no idea why Mr. Styles might’ve offered her another ride home. Perhaps he felt bad that she’d been scolded in front of the kitchen today by Edgar, or maybe he just pitied her. 

Whatever the case was, she wasn’t going to question it too much. She’d developed an itty bitty crush on Mr. Styles, so even if he was just giving her a ride home because he felt bad… well, then at least it meant she got to spend some more time with him! 

She knocks on his door and waits for his muffled “come in” before she walks in. A pair of reading glasses are perched on the tip of his nose, reflecting the light of the laptop screen he’s staring at intently. He doesn’t look away from his laptop as he says, “m’almost done.” He gestures mindlessly at the seats in front of his desk when she hovers awkwardly in front of the door. “Sit.”

Her quiet obedience makes him smile as he finishes the last of the emails he wanted to send that night, and with a final press of a button he shuts his laptop. He takes the reading glasses off and stands up, and y/n tries to stare discreetly at his thighs (which are being hugged deliciously by his slacks) as he packs up his things.

She’s not as discreet as she thinks she is, because Harry has to call her name three times before she snaps out of her daydreams. “Where’s your head at, puppy?” he taunts, a knowing smile pulling at his lips. Her cheeks turn warm, and she’s thankful that she doesn’t have to explain herself as she follows him to his car. 

This was gonna be a long ride.

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Y/n doesn’t know how it happened, but she and Mr. Styles have created some sort of arrangement. 

Anytime he’s been in the office for the past two weeks, he’s given her a ride home. She’s tried to tell him that he really doesn’t have to and that the walk home really isn’t that bad (she feels bad for making him drive all the way to her apartment!), but for some reason, he insists!

Secretly, she’s really happy that he’s always offering to drive her home. She gets to spend an extra 15 minutes with him every night, talking to him, looking at him, and getting teased by him. Yes, he has a knack for embarrassing her… but in a way, she actually kind of enjoys it. 

Like all the other nights, she meets him in his office and they walk out together. He holds all the doors open for her, his hand lightly placed on the small of her back as they walk outside. And again, like all the other nights, he opens the passenger’s side door for her and holds a hand out to help her into his car. 

There is one thing that happens differently tonight though. When Harry gets behind the wheel, her stomach lets out the loudest grumble she’s ever heard. 

She shuts her eyes in embarrassment. Of course this would happen. She can only hope that Mr. Styles didn’t hear it.

Unfortunately for her, he chuckles softly, “Are you hungry?”

“A bit,” she replies sheepishly.

“When’s the last time you ate?”

She hesitates, “Um… I had a granola bar right before my physics lecture.”

He pauses. “And when was this lecture?”

“At 1.”

“So you’re telling me,” Harry glances at the time in disbelief, which reads 10:47 PM, “That you haven’t eaten since 1 in the afternoon?”

“Well… I mean, usually I have some food before coming to work! But I went to a study session after class and I lost track of time, so I didn’t have time to eat anything.”

“Tha’s not enough, puppy. You need to bring something to eat during your break or else you’ll pass out.” He puts his hand on the back of her seat and looks behind him to back out of his parking spot. “And, if you don’t have time to eat anything, then I’ll cook something for you.”

“You don’t have to do that Mr. Styles,” she politely refuses. “M’not even that hungry right now.” 

The growl her stomach lets out says otherwise. “Not hungry?” he taunts.

“Okay, maybe a little bit… m’too tired to cook anything though so I’ll probably just have a pop tart or something and call it a night.”

He scoffs, “a pop tart?”

“Yeah, you know those little pastry things? They usually come in that foil packaging and have–”

“I know what a pop-tart is.” A bunch of processed sugars and artificial jam stuffed in a horribly dry crust that spills crumbs everywhere? The thought of eating one absolutely repulses him. “They’re disgusting.”

“Hey, they’re not that bad!” y/n whines defensively. “M’on a student budget! And I’m not that good at cooking, not all of us are gourmet chefs like you.”

He thinks for a second then says, “Well then…how about I take you to mine and cook you a gourmet dinner?”

“What– like, right now?” she bleats. When he nods, she asks, “you would cook me dinner right now?”

“Why s’that so hard to believe?”

Well, first of all he’s her hot boss who is notoriously known for being a hot asshole. Second of all, she has a stupid crush on her hot boss, and can’t actually believe that he’d invite her over to his home. And third of all, and the one she settles for, “Isn’t it a bit late?”

He looks over at her. “Is it past your bedtime?” he asks playfully. She shakes her head no bashfully, face heating at his teasing as he continues, “If it’s not late for you, then it’s not late for me.” 

She sits there and thinks. Obviously she wants to go over to his apartment and spend more time with him! But… gosh, she feels bad! Making him not only drive her home, but also cook her dinner was just asking for too much!

“Y/n,” he interrupts, as if he could read her mind, “stop overthinking it. I want to cook for you, I wouldn’t offer it if I didn’t. Will y’let me?”

“I’d really like that,” she admits shyly.

He smiles at her, “My house it is, then.”

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Mr. Styles is rich. Like… super rich. 

His luxury car was only a preview to his luxurious lifestyle. He drives them not far from the restaurant, to a tall, shiny building. He parks his car in the garage and takes y/n through the lobby, his heeled boots clicking against the shiny tiled floors. An elevator takes them up to the 16th floor, and opens to a dark penthouse. Floor to ceiling windows provide a view of the city, the lights of downtown flashing up in a kaleidoscope of colors. The floors are wooden with a cool undertone that complimented the grey walls, and the furniture is all sleek and dark. He leads them to his luxury kitchen and tells her to sit at the highchairs in front of the island.

“What shall I make you?” he asks.

“Um… a grilled cheese?”

He quirks his eyebrow. “You’ve got one of the world’s best chefs in front of you, and you want me to make you a grilled cheese?”

She shrugs, “That’s what I would’ve made myself if I wasn’t so lazy.”

“How about I surprise you with something… a little more special.”

“I feel bad making you cook this late when you’re not even supposed to be working,” she admits as Harry ruffles through his fridge.

“Darling,” he scoffs, “making you a meal is nothing for me. I could do this in my sleep.”

“I dunno, cooking is always such a hassle for me. Y’gotta get all the ingredients right, and make sure nothing burns, and then all the dishes… s’too much work.”

“But finding all the right ingredients and watching over y’food is exactly why I love cooking,” he explains passionately. “S’like… even the slightest thing could change the flavor of your dish, and take it to the next level. It’s so much fun.” He pulls out a pot and fills it with water. “The dishes are a headache though,” he adds teasingly. 

As he waits for the water to boil, he goes to his wine cooler and pulls a bottle out. “Do you like this wine? It’s Chianti 1982, from Montespertoli.”

“Um…” she looks at him helplessly. “I don’t really know much about wine.”

He hums, and pours himself a glass. Then he sits on the stool next to hers. He hooks his foot into the leg of her chair and pulls her stool to him, close enough so that their knees were touching and that she could see the stubble right above his lips. 

He holds up the wine glass as if he were offering a sip, but as soon as her hands come up to steady the glass to her lips, he pulls it away. “Ah ah,” he tuts, “You’ve gotta smell it first.” 

He swirls the wine around under her nose. “What do you smell?” he murmurs.

She takes a deep breath and contemplates it deeply. “...grapes?”

He snickers, “nice try.” He pulls the wine under his own nose and says, “It smells fruity… notes of cherry… plum… oak…” He takes a sip of it. “Mm… it’s light. Smooth.” 

Y/n watches him with wide eyes as he swirls the wine around in the glass and brings it up to his mouth, hyper fixating on his lips. His thick fingers, decorated with a multitude of sparkly rings, delicately wrap around the stem of the glass. And his lips, plump and pink, pucker softly against the rim as he takes another sip. 

His wine-stained tongue peaks out to lick his lips, and her own lips part open with want. 

He takes another enticing sip. “You want some, puppy?” he asks.

She nods her head, looking up at him with her round eyes and parted mouth. He gives her a taste, opting to hold the glass up to her lips as she drinks instead of having her take it from his hands and do it herself. When he feels that she’s had enough, he pulls it away. “What do y’think?”

“S’good,” she says, the tart taste of the wine drying out her tongue. It makes her want more. She looks at Harry with her eager eyes, and he feeds her another sip. This time though, she’s a bit too excited. When he pulls the glass away from her, a little bit of it dribbles down her chin.

He tsks. “Messy girl,” he murmurs. His thumb comes up to swipe at the mess, collecting it and teasing at her bottom lip. He lingers there for a second, before he pushes in, her supple lips parting easily as he slides his finger into her mouth. It rests heavily on her tongue, the acidic flavor of the wine lingering on his finger. She sucks, and his eyes darken. 

“Good girl.” His voice is low and gruff, eyes focused on her lips wrapped around his thumb. He pulls it out slowly, her bottom lip tugging downwards as he does it, and he watches it bounce back into place. 

He drags his eyes away from her lips and back up to her eyes, which are looking at him, wide and curious. Unlike Harry, who can’t stop his eyes from flickering down to her lips, her eyes are glued on him, frozen and waiting for his next move. When he moves the slightest bit closer, her breath catches in her throat. She’s not well versed in all this stuff, but she supposes if he keeps looking at her lips and leaning in, that probably means he wants to kiss her, right? She inches forward to test her theory. He reciprocates. Both of their eyes flutter shut. 

His nose brushes against hers ever so lightly, nudging it to the side, and she lets out a shaky breath when his lips graze hers. With one final tilt of her head, their lips slot together, as if they were two opposite charges connected by a magnetic force. He encases her lips in a soft kiss, her supple bottom lip trapped between his for a second, and his hand comes up to cup her jaw. He doesn’t do anything more than gently kiss her lips – no hot tongue in her mouth, no heavy breathing, nothing that he thinks might overwhelm her. Just a simple kiss, that he pulls away with a soft click.

Her eyelashes flutter open to reveal her moony eyes, looking up at him like an eager puppy. They flicker between his eyes with a mixture of want, confusion, and excitement hidden in her irises. 

He grins down at her. “Let me go check on the water.”

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He rolls his eyes. “Stay here,” he says, heading out into the kitchen. He comes back with a plate of roasted vegetables that she’s seen served as a side dish with most of their meals. 

“I didn’t cook it, but it’s my restaurant so it’s got t’be somewhat good,” he tells her, setting the plate in front of her. 

She wouldn’t admit it to him, but she’d actually been starving during her shift. She doesn’t hesitate from taking a bite. “Mm, yum!!” she exclaims.

His eyebrows furrow. “Give me some,” he demands, his mouth open and his tongue peeking out a bit so that she could put the fork in his mouth. He chews slowly. “Not enough salt,” he says, “And I would’ve let it roast a bit more.” 

She giggles. His defensiveness and the little frown that had taken over his face when she’d complimented someone else’s food was endearing. “S’nothing on the gnocchi you cooked for me last night,” she tells him sweetly. 

He smiles and pinches her cheek. “Thanks puppy.” 

“Do you want to come to mine again tonight?” he asks her. He had a rather good time with her last night. She was cute and sweet, as always, but he’d managed to get to know a different side of her when it was just the two of them in his penthouse. 

Her eyes light up.“Oh, I’d really love to Mr. Styles,” she tells him, but the eagerness in her voice slowly fades away, “But I’ve got a physics quiz tomorrow and I promised myself I’d finish the practice problems he gave us when I got home from work.”

“That’s good,” he says, plucking the fork from her hand so that he could start feeding her himself. He pokes a carrot onto the fork and taps at her lips. “S’important to put your studies first, pet. M’proud of you.”

Oh gosh, y/n positively beams at that! She takes the carrot into her mouth, but can barely manage to chew because she’s smiling so hard. “What if we– um, hung out tomorrow night instead?” she stutters out nervously. “I’ll be free, and we could watch a movie or something.”

“Yeah, we could do that,” he murmurs through his smile.

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“Guess what I brought!” y/n exclaims as she walks out of the elevator into Harry’s penthouse. He raises his eyebrow at her curiously as she fishes through her tote bag. “Popcorn! Do you want double butter or kettle corn?” 

“Whichever you want pup. What movie are we watching?”

“I dunno, you pick while I go make the popcorn!” she calls out behind her. 

He gets the couch ready, getting one big blanket out from his room (rather than two little blankets, in hopes that it might encourage a bit of cuddling) and a bunch of comfy pillows that he thinks she might appreciate. As he fiddles with the remote to find a good movie for them to watch, his chef’s nose picks up the smell of… burning food. 

He shoots up from where he’d sat on the couch and scrambles to the kitchen, peeking his head in just to make sure y/n is okay. The smell of burnt popcorn is much more prominent here.

“Everything okay in here?” he asks quietly. She whips around, her thumb in her mouth, sucking on the pad of it. Her eyes are swimming with a mix of disappointment and fear.

“I burnt the popcorn,” she mumbles with a lisp, her finger still being sucked in her mouth. 

“The popcorn isn’t important,” he says, brushing past the popcorn bag that has smoke filtering out of it. “Did you hurt yourself?”

A pout accompanies her sad nod. “I burnt my finger trying to get the bag open.” 

“Let me see,” he murmurs, pulling her finger from her mouth. It’s not a terrible burn, but her delicate skin does look tender and a bit red. He turns on the tap and guides her finger under the running water, telling to keep it there while he gets a bandaid. 

“M’sorry,” she says sadly. She sticks her finger out so that he could wrap it for her.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry about, pet.” 

“But I burnt food in your fancy kitchen!” she whines like a child. “You’re always doing nice things for me, n’I couldn’t even make you some popcorn.”

“Hey, hey,” he says calmly, grabbing her chin. “Stop whining.” She shuts her mouth and looks up at him. “You don’t have t’do anything for me, okay sweetheart? I just like being with you.”

“But I wanted to treat you,” she sulks.

“My treat is having a cute little puppy in my kitchen.” A teasing smile pulls at his lips, and y/n can’t help but crack a smile as well. “I’ll be the chef, m’kay? You just sit here and be cute f’me.” 

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“You know you don’t have to call me Mr. Styles when we’re not in the restaurant,” he tells her over the fanfare of 20th Century Fox blasting from the television.

She looks at him curiously. “What else would I call you then?”

“Harry,” he says simply.

She scrunches her nose. “I’ve called you Mr. Styles for so long. S’gonna take a while to grow out of it.”

Her nose is cute, Harry realizes. Also her eyes, and her lips. And how her hair frames her face. She’s so cute. “S’too professional,” he complains.

“You don’t mind it when all your other employees call you Mr. Styles,” she counters.

“That’s because I’m their superior.”

She raises her eyebrow. “You’re also my superior.”

“At work,” he emphasizes. “I’m your superior at work. But when it’s just us two, we’re equal.”

She’s taken aback a bit. She’d spent all this time being intimidated by the fact that he was her boss. Her superior. But with him laying the cards down straight, she feels comfortable. Relieved. As if a weight on her chest had been removed, and she can finally start indulging in the feelings that were bubbling there.

“Okay, Harry. I’ll try,” she says with a smile.

His eyes flicker down to her lips, then back up, as if nothing happened. However quick it might have been, though, y/n notices. It makes her cheeks grow hot. She tries to distract herself from the warm feelings growing in her tummy by leaning towards the coffee table and grabbing a few pieces of popcorn (courtesy of Harry). She slowly eats them, and Harry’s eyes are back on her lips, watching as she places each kernel in her mouth.

She offers some to him silently, holding a piece up and raising her eyebrow to ask if he wants one. He nods and opens his mouth.

She thinks she’s just going to plop it in his mouth, but Harry has other plans. When she brings the popcorn up to his lips, his hand comes up to wrap around her wrist, holding her hand there. He takes the piece of popcorn from her, and swallows it quickly. Then, he places a kiss against the pad of her thumb. Then her index finger, then her middle finger. 

Each kiss is soft, his plushy lips puckering gently and lingering on her skin for a prolonged second before moving onto the next. When he’s out of fingers to kiss, he tilts his head and starts kissing down to her wrist. These kisses are just as soft, just as gentle, but somehow more erotic. They’re a bit more open mouthed, the wetness of his lips slicking her skin. 

Y/n stares at him with her jaw dropped. “Oh my god,” she breathes, her voice shaky. His eyes are locked on hers, looking at her with a teasing glint as his teeth nip at the thin skin of her wrist. 

She doesn’t know what to say. She’s speechless, words caught in her throat as Harry stops his descent of kisses down her wrist, and kisses the back of her hand instead. 

“Do you like it,” he asks between kisses, “when I kiss you?” She nods, mesmerized by his low voice.

He releases her hand and pulls her close so that their faces are right in front of each other, then dips his head down to her ear. “What if I kissed you here?” he murmurs, his thumb pressing into a spot just behind her earlobe. She nods again, and he kisses where his thumb had just been.

A shiver runs down y/n’s spine when Harry starts another path downwards, kissing down her neck with gentle presses of his lips. Her neck is sensitive, super sensitive, and every kiss leaves a trail of goosebumps. She feels herself starting to get wet, and wraps her arms around Harry. Her hands slide over his broad shoulders to lock at the base of his neck, and she tilts her head to the side to give him more access. Harry expresses his appreciation by softly kissing at her throat. His hand comes up to hold her jaw, and she moans when he starts sucking a love bite.

He pulls away after he’s sucked enough to leave the spot sore, and looks at her with dark eyes. Fingers play with the hair at the base of his neck nervously, and she braves a look at his lips, which are extra pink after paying so much attention to her neck. She looks back up at him when his thumb brushes against her lips. “And if I kissed you here?” he asks. “Would you like that?”

She doesn’t even respond to him, lunging forward to lock their lips together in a heated kiss. He groans into her mouth when he feels her lips on his, his hand moving to grab her thigh. He guides it over his lap so that she’s straddling him, and she follows easily, propping herself up with one knee on either side of his hips. Their chests press together and she leans into him, pressing her lips harder against his, more desperately. Her tongue flickers forwards to tease the seam of Harry’s lips. Obviously, he receives this very well, opening up his mouth and letting his tongue slip into her mouth. 

Feeling him all over her, with her tongue gliding hotly against hers, his firm chest against her supple breasts, and his large palms against her skin, sends electric arousal shooting through her entire body. Her core feels hot and tingly, wet against her panties, and she can’t help herself from brushing herself against Harry’s lap. He groans, and she does it again, pressing her hips more firmly down. There’s not much friction with all the layers separating them, but the pressure against her clit is enough to tame her for now. 

His hands roam up from where they were resting on her hips, sliding over her ribs and back down, just desperate to feel all of her. He teases her by sliding his hands over her ass, and when she eagerly moans into his mouth, he palms her, his large hands groping to his heart's desire. He uses his grip on her ass to encourage her to grind down harder.

Her fingers grip onto his shoulders and she pulls away breathlessly. “Mr. Styles– I mean, sir– I mean– Harry!”

“What’s wrong puppy?” he coos, “Can’t think straight?” 

She moans, grinding down harder. While she catches her breath, Harry goes back to kissing and sucking on her neck. 

“I– more,” she whines, “I want more.”

“Yeah baby? What do you want?”

“S’not enough,” she says, still grinding on his lap. She wants to feel more, wants to cum!

“What if we took this little skirt off?” Harry says, tugging at the black skirt, a part of her waitressing uniform at Pleasing. The waitresses had an option of wearing black slacks, or a black skirt overtop a pair of black tights. She preferred the skirt, but had taken the tights off in the employee bathroom before they came over to Harry’s for the sake of comfortability.  

She nods her head eagerly, letting him toy with the small zipper at the hip of the skirt. Once he has it unzipped, she untangles herself from him, standing up and letting the skirt fall to the floor. She’s left in one of her seamless nude thongs that she’d gotten at Target when they’d had a 7 for $20 deal. No fancy lingerie or lacy panties – just something comfortable that wouldn’t give her panty lines under her skirt. 

Y/n stands a bit nervous under his gaze. His pupils are blown out, glazed over with lust as he looks at her head to toe. She looks so sexy like this, he thinks, with her hair all messy, wearing nothing but her panties and her white button down. Straight out of a playboy photoshoot or something, he reckons. 

He spreads his legs and beckons her closer, his lap looking like an inviting place for her to sit and grind her clit on. But when she goes to straddle him as she had been just a second ago, he guides her, instead, to straddle his thigh. She’s confused for a second, and a bit disappointed. The idea of grinding on his clothed cock had aroused her quite a bit, and he was taking it away from her. But when she settles herself on his thigh, feeling the hard muscle beneath her, she realizes why he had her reposition here.

His thick thighs feel so much better against her clit – firmer, so that she can grind down with more fervor. His smooth slacks make it easier for her to slip her hips forwards and backwards, and there’s no annoying zipper in the way to rub awkwardly against her. No… just a smooth terrain of thick muscle for her to rub herself against. Plus, she doesn’t have to worry about pressing down too hard on Harry’s cock. She’s free to press down as hard as she wants until she cums. :)

Harry’s hands are on her hips, thumbs gently dancing up and down her skin. To help her get started, he tightens his grip and guides her hips back and forth on his thigh. His lips are back on her neck, kissing from her collarbones to the center of her throat, up to her jawline. She whines when his lips graze her across her jaw and tease at her earlobe, biting down on it before kissing right underneath it. That spot below her ear sends jolts of pleasure through her body, tingling down her back and sparking at her core. She grinds down with even more passion.

Her fingers, which had been grabbing at his shoulders to brace herself as she rutted on his thigh, now slid up to meet at the back of his head. She tugs at his hair and pulls his head back from where he’d been sucking and kissing her neck. She watches him lick his swollen lips, before slotting her own between them again. She wanted to kiss him more, feel his tongue in her mouth and his teeth biting at her lips. 

A sharp smack against her ass has her hips stuttering. She gasps into Harry’s mouth as his palm grabs and gropes her after he’d spanked her, and can’t help the high pitched moan that bursts out her throat. “Sir–” her whimper is cut off by another spank.

“S’that good pet?” he asks against her lips.

“Mhm,” she kisses him harder, “Again.”

His palm comes down again, and a muffled cry escapes through her lips, not letting his hand distract her from kissing him. 

Harry can feel her tiring out, her hips slowing down a bit and grinding down in long, drawn out motions instead of the more desperate ones she’d started off with. So he helps her out a bit, his long fingers slipping to her front and finding her clit through her panties. He rubs it back and forth, using the slickness that soaked the thin piece of fabric covering her to make the friction smooth and pleasurable. 

Wow, she hadn’t expected his fingers to feel so good. She’d spent a lot of time admiring them whenever he’d driven her home, his long, thick fingers, covered in rings. His left hand, decorated with his cross tattoo, his manly knuckles and wide palms. He just had amazingly attractive hands in general, and now they were on her, rubbing her clit, bringing her closer to her end. She imagines what it’d feel like to have one of those long fingers slide inside of her pussy, and clenches around nothing simply at the thought of it. 

His fingers, his kiss, and her own wild imagination make her bubble over the edge, orgasm spilling and hips stuttering on his thigh as she feels herself fluttering with release. She collapses against his chest, and lets herself relax as his arms embrace her.

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Y/n is buzzing during her shift. 

After their moment together last night, Harry had held her close and whispered nice things to her, about how pretty and sweet she was. They restarted the movie (considering they were a little… preoccupied when it had started) and watched it to its end, cuddled up with each other under Harry’s fuzzy blanket. Then, he’d driven her home. 

Before she got out of his car, he stopped her. He delicately lifted her chin with two of his fingers, and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “Bye puppy,” he murmured between kisses, barely lifting his lips from hers. Then he’d patted her cheek, sending her off with butterflies in her tummy and a smile that’s been plastered on her face ever since. 

She’s so giddy that even Grace notices. “What’s got you so smiley?” she teases when they pass each other in the back.

“Oh, nothing,” y/n responds casually. But the dreamy lilt to her voice and shy smile give her away.

“It’s not nothing! C’mon, you’ve gotta tell me–” Grace insists, but thankfully, she’s cut off by Alfredo.

“Y/n! Party of five in private room 3!” He pats at his glistening forehead with his sweat rag.

She leaves Grace with a teasing grin. “Gotta go!” 

The private rooms were usually a nightmare to deal with. They were super expensive tables that people could reserve so that they could eat in privacy, usually for celebrities trying to avoid paps or groups celebrating private events. Now think about it – if the people who ate in the general dining hall were assholes, just imagine how annoying the diners of the private rooms were. 

Despite all this, however, y/n’s happy mood couldn’t even be damped by anyone in the private room. She walks in with that same love-induced smile plastered on her face.

“Hi guys! I’m y/n and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I get any drinks for you?” She does a quick scan around the table, and feels her heart skip a beat when she sees a familiar head of brown hair sitting at the table. She’d been wondering why she hadn’t seen Harry in his office when she came in for her shift. 

Harry looks up at the sound of her voice, but his face remains stoic. No smile or teasing nicknames. Not even a hint of recognition. “Just water for me,” he says, before looking away. 

She nods, trying not to feel hurt by his lack of acknowledgement, and takes everyone else’s orders as well. He’s having an important business dinner, obviously he’s not going to pull her into his arms and kiss her the way he did last night! But still, her heart deflates at the fact that he hadn’t even smiled at her. Whatever, though. It’s a business meeting, and he’s just being professional. It’s fine, everything’s fine. 

As she’s getting the drinks ready, Alfredo approaches her, dragging another waitress behind himself. “Is this for room 3?” he asks her, pointing to the tray of water and cocktails. She nods. “Give this to Alyssa, she will be taking over for you. You can cover table 52 instead.” 

“What? Why?” y/n asks, unable to hide the disappointment in her voice.

“Mr. Styles has requested a different waitress, I do not know why,” he waves her off. “Now quickly, get to your tables!”

Alyssa takes the tray of drinks from her and Alfredo hurries off to the kitchen, leaving y/n standing there dumbfounded. Why would Harry do that? Not only does she feel hurt that he barely acknowledged her, but… she’s embarrassed too! How awkward is it for the owner of the restaurant to say that they didn’t want you to be their waitress?

How had Harry gone from murmuring sweet nothings into her ear last night, to completely ignoring her today? And why would he request a different waitress? He’s never had an issue with being friendly with her while he’s at the restaurant! It was just last week that he defended her in front of the entire staff, made chef Edgar apologize to her and called her his favorite waitress! 

With every thought, her heart drops a little bit. Was this all a game to him? Like – had he just taken advantage of her little crush to just get a quick hookup? But he’d been so genuine… how could he just ignore her? And then interfere with her job? Was this the type of boss he was? The kind to mess around with employees just to get them fired?

Any glimmer of happiness in her body has completely disappeared, and it’s taking everything in her to blink back her angry tears and go introduce herself to her new table.

Everything is definitely not fine. 

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“Do you do this with all the new waitresses?” 

Harry looks up from his desk to see y/n standing in front of the door, a pout on her lips. After he’d finished his meeting with some investors who were interested in opening up a new Pleasing location in New York, he’d come back into his office to send some emails regarding what they’d discussed at dinner. He hadn’t paid much attention when he heard the knock at his door, but of course he’s happy that it’s y/n. He’s just… a bit confused about what she’s talking about.

“What?” he asks, lowering his laptop screen. 

“Do you give all of them rides home? And then invite them over and go all sweet on them and then start ignoring them once you hook up with them?” Her eyes start to glaze over, and her chin wrinkles as she tries to stop her lip from quivering.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Harry stands up from his desk. “Y/n, what are you talking about?”

“Cos that’s really shitty of you to do!” she says, sniffling as the first tears break from her waterline. “Like– even if you wanted to play me or ghost me or whatever, you don’t have to interfere with my job!” She wipes the tears away angrily, “Do you know how embarrassing it is to have the owner of the restaurant say they don’t want you to serve them? You might as well fire me at this point.”

“Hey– no, it’s not like that,” he tries to explain, but she scoffs and rolls her eyes.

“I knew that I shouldn’t have gotten involved with you,” she says, voice breaking as more tears fall down her cheeks, “But you were so nice! I didn’t think you’d do this… I-I feel so stupid.”

“Y/n. Stop it.” he says sternly, stepping in front of her. “It’s not like that at all. I was in a business meeting, I had to be professional. Obviously I couldn’t be sweet on you the way I always am.”

“I get that!” she snaps. “But why’d you have Alyssa replace me? Like, I was just doing my job, and I wasn’t being unprofessional or anything. It was so uncalled for!” 

“The men that I work with are not good people. When you took our drink orders, they made vulgar comments about you. It made me upset, so I requested someone else to serve us.” He raises his eyebrow to see if she has any remarks, but she remains silent eyes glued on the floor. He lifts her chin so that she looks at him. “And just for the record, I’ve never done anything like this before. I’ve never, ever gotten involved with an employee, never given them rides, or invited them to my home. You’re the only one,” he murmurs. “And m’not gonna let my feelings for you interfere with your job.”

She sniffles. “Oh.” 

He can’t help the chuckle that falls from his lips. “You’re silly,” he says, pulling her into his arms. She smushes her cheek into his chest, feeling a little bit embarrassed at her reaction to the situation that he’d so calmly explained to her. “How long did you spend worrying your pretty head over this, hm? I hate seeing you cry, puppy.”

“M’sorry,” she bleats. “I was overdramatic.” Her hands wrap around his middle and grab at his shirt, holding him close.

He looks down at her and smooths her hair back softly. “S’okay puppy. Just talk to me about this stuff, okay? Especially if we plan on becoming… y’know, more serious.”

She looks up at him and smiles. “Okay.”

“Can I have a kiss?” he coos. 

She nods, looking up at him with her chin propped against his chest. He gives her a sweet peck.

“Now if you’ll let me, I’d like to take you to mine and do some more kissing.” 

Y/n agrees without a smidge of hesitation.

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“I want to take you out on a date.”

It was y/n’s day off, but Harry found himself missing her a bunch, so he’d texted her to see if she was free. She responded with a “yes!!!” and he’d told her he’d pick her up in an hour so that they could go out.

When he went and picked her up, she walked down to his car wearing the cutest little sundress, pink and flowery, with her hair tied up and out of her face. He took her to a little cafe by the park, where he ordered himself an iced black coffee and got her the sugary drink she’d requested, and they sat together under a tree on the grass. Harry’s back rested against the tree, and y/n sat next to him with her legs draped across his lap. A pair of dark sunglasses shielded his eyes. 

“Call me crazy, but this right here kinda feels like a date,” she teased when he said that, sipping on her drink. “Am I getting too ahead of myself?”

“No puppy, like a proper date,” he says. “Where I take you out for dinner at a fancy restaurant.” 

Despite how giddy the thought of going on a Real Date with Harry makes her, she protests. “Harry, you don’t have to do all that–” she exclaims, but Harry cuts her off. 

“The only problem is,” he continues, “I can’t take you to my own restaurant, because that would be weird. But I also don’t want t’take you out to dinner at any other restaurant, cos the food won’t be good.” He’s picky and only wants to give her the best… and nothing is better than his own cooking. “So I was thinking… I could cook something for you. And we could treat it like a date?”

She smiles at him and leans in for a kiss. “I’d love to do all that with you. But you know I’m fine with just… coffee dates and hanging out at your apartment, right? We don’t have to do fancy things.”

“I want to,” he says, puckering his lips against hers. He wants to treat her to fancy things and show her his appreciation. It’s his way of showing that he’s serious about her. 

Her smile spreads as she pulls away. “I’m excited! What are you gonna make me?”

“What do you want me to make you?”

“Hmm,” she muses. Harry’s hand comes up to hold hers and he looks at her fondly, a dimple in his cheek as he smiles at her. If he weren’t wearing his sunnies, she would’ve been able to see his eyes glimmering with adoration. “Surprise me.”

So, on the following Friday, Harry picks y/n up from her physics discussion and brings her back to his place. They’d decided that (for the sake of spending as much time together as possible) she’d pack a bag of her stuff to stay the night at his, and just come over straight after she was done with classes. And while Harry was cooking their food and getting the balcony ready for them to eat on, y/n went into his bedroom to get changed. 

“Y’already look so pretty though,” he’d told her when she pulled away from his kisses to go get ready.

“Thanks,” she blushed. “But I wanna get dressed up. Y’know, since this is our first real date and all.” She knows that taking her on a proper date is kind of a big deal for Harry, so she’s taking it just as seriously as he is. She showered that morning, shaved and exfoliated everywhere, did an extended skincare routine, and brought a bunch of makeup and one of her prettiest dresses so that she could get all dolled up for him. Her dress is a little black satin number that cuts off just a bit above her mid thigh, and a dainty necklace rests on her collarbones, which are on display thanks to the thin spaghetti straps of her dress.

She also puts on a pair of pretty heels that click against his hardwood floors as she walks out to the kitchen. “Harryyy,” she calls out. She finds him in the kitchen, a pair of oven mitts on his hands as he takes a large pan out of the oven. He turns around with the baked food still in his hands when he hears her call out his name, and his jaw drops when she walks in. 

Y/n is pretty every day, no matter if she’s in her waitressing uniform, her uni sweatshirt, or her flowy sundress. But when she’s all dressed up, wearing a sexy little dress that shows off her legs and her neck and shoulders… wow. Harry puts the food on a cooling rack, approaches her with the oven mitts still on his hands, and kisses her hungrily. 

His oven-mitt covered hands rest on her hips and she has to bend backwards to support the force of Harry’s kiss. “Baby,” he groans, “y’look so gorgeous.” 

And gosh, there’s just something about when Harry calls her baby that makes her weak in the knees! “Thank you,” she manages to giggle between his incessant kissing. She has to pry her lips from him by pushing on his shoulders. “What did you make?” she asks, a bit breathless. 

Harry’s kisses migrate down to her neck – he just can’t get enough of her. She smells so sweet, and this dress… god, it’s doing things to him. Her soft skin, exposed so openly for his lips to kiss and suck on… how could he resist? “Parmigiana di Melanazane,” he mutters with his lips pressed against her skin. He was addicted to her.

“Is it ready yet?” she asks, trying to ignore the way his breath was tickling at her sensitive spot. 

He pulls away reluctantly, his eyes still hungry. He pushes his hair out of his face and tries to compose himself, “Yes. I just have to set the table.” 

“M’kay,” she says prettily. He releases her and goes to the cabinet to take out their plates. While he’s distracted, she floats over to the pan he’s pulled out of the oven. It smells so good, she can’t help but hover over it…

“Owie!” she yelps, snatching her finger back from where she’d accidentally touched the hot pyrex glass. “Harry, I hurt myself,” she whines.

“Baby,” he coos gently, putting down the plates and rushing to her side. “Why are y’going around touching hot things?”

“Didn’t mean to,” she says with a pout. Harry holds her hand, bringing the burnt finger up to his lips and pressing a long kiss to the tingling pad. 

“Can’t leave you alone in the kitchen without you hurting yourself,” he scolds, now sucking her finger into his mouth to try and soothe the pain. “Should make you sit in the bedroom, away from anything hot or dangerous.”

She humphs, “It was an accident! Don’t kick me out of your kitchen please.” She pouts up at him with her cute, begging eyes.

He kisses her finger one last time, relenting. “Do you think I can trust you to carry the drinks out to the balcony or are y’gonna find a way to hurt yourself with those too?” 

She rolls her eyes. “No, sir,” she says sassily. 

He smacks her ass as she walks out with a bottle of chilled wine. “Watch it, puppy.” 

The scene he’s set up for them is gorgeous. His balcony is decorated with fairy lights that brighten the table just enough for them to be able to see each other, and a few romantic candles have been lit in front of them. A fancy tablecloth and place mats are already on the table, along with a folded napkin that held their cutlery. 

Harry comes out from behind her, holding two plates of food that he places on either end of the table. Then, he pulls out a chair for y/n to take a seat. 

They wine and dine, y/n telling him all about the new book she’s reading (it’s this crazy book about this super smart physicist who discovers how to travel between the multi-verses) and Harry telling her about the trip he has to make to Milan soon for a charity dinner he attends annually.

When they’re done, she helps him take the dishes inside and puts them in the sink. He insists that she goes and relaxes while he does the dishes, so she wanders towards his bedroom, snooping around the artwork in the halls and the books on his shelves. He has a bunch of European philosophy books, books by Camus, Kafka, and Rousseau. She wouldn’t expect any less – he seems like the type to be well read in that kind of stuff. 

 Her fingers graze the spine of one of the books, The Stranger, tracing over the engravings of the title. She doesn’t hear Harry step into the bedroom, only realizing she wasn’t alone when his hands slide onto her hips. He rests his chin on her shoulder, linking his fingers in front of her. 

“I had to read this book for school,” she says, earning a hum from Harry in response. “It was so fucking boring.” 

He snorts. “Are you insulting my taste in books, puppy?” 

“Just saying,” she shrugs, turning around to face him. “You should read that book I was tellin’ you about,” she says with a cute smile. Her hands come up to play with the collar of his suit, a tan plaid pattern, over top a baby blue button down, paired with some tan pants. His brown hair rests atop his head in chocolate swirls. 

Harry looks down at her with a fond look, eyes glimmering as an extension of the soft smile on his face. He puckers his lips, and she leans up on her tippy toes to kiss them for him. 

“Maybe I’ll get a copy and read it on my flight,” he says, referencing the trip he’d be making in about a week. 

She frowns. “I don’t want you to go.” 

“Won’t be gone for long,” he reassures her, his hands releasing her hips to cup her face. “Only a week.” 

She leans up for another kiss. “Too long.”

His thumb rubs her cheek sweetly, “I’ll call you every night.” Another kiss. 

“Not the same.” Kiss.

“Puppy…” he growls. One of his hands slides from where he’d been cupping her face into her hair, gently gripping her roots and tugging her head back so that she can’t keep pecking his lips. “Stop complaining before I’ll give y’something to really whine about.” 

She looks up at him with a pout. He ignores it, and kisses down her throat instead. He can feel the whimpers climbing up her throat, her desperation growing as she grabs at his shirt.

He starts walking her backwards, each step punctuated with a kiss until the backs of her knees hit his bed and she topples backwards. Her hair halos behind her and she looks up at Harry, who stands tall, proudly between her legs. He’s looking at her the way a predator looks at his prey, unbuttoning the wrists of his dress shirt and rolling them up his arms. 

“Gonna let me taste you tonight, baby?” he asks, getting down on his knees at the foot of the bed, between her spread legs. She props herself up on her elbows to get a better view. He grabs her left leg, and props her foot against his chest, the sharp high heel digging into his shirt as he works on undoing the clasp at her ankle. When it’s off, he throws the shoe behind him and puts her leg over his shoulder. “Asked you a question, puppy,” he mutters darkly, unclasping her other shoe in the same method. 

She nods dumbly as he kisses up her calf, lips puckering against the soft skin as he appreciates every inch of her body. He looks up at her as his kisses migrate from her calf to her thigh, inching closer towards her center. His hands slide up her thighs as well, paving the way for his lips, slowly inching that tiny dress of hers up, and up, and up, until it’s bunched around her hips. 

Her tiny panties are sheer and white, her pretty pussy on display through the see-through material. She had a feeling that tonight would be ending in a special way, so she’d cleaned up well and worn lingerie that made her feel sexy. Harry appreciates it very much, kissing around her panty line at the seam of her thigh. His nose brushes against the soft material, and his teeth bite at its edges lightly.

He hovers over her center, hot breath fanning over her clit, before pressing a kiss to it through the fabric of her panties. She exhales shakily and bites her lip. 

Considering how his head is sandwiched between her thighs, he doesn’t bother with pulling her underwear down her legs. He just pulls the center of it to the side, exposing her lips. Without much thought, he slides his tongue through her slick folds, tasting her. A dark groan rumbles through his chest. 

The broad of his tongue sensually runs up and down her folds, spreading his spit all over her and mixing with her slickness. His mouth feels hot against her, lapping up the sweetness leaking out of her pussy. He pulls back and looks at her, all shiny and wet. Her clit, sitting prettily like a pearl, is half hidden under the hood. He brings his hand up to reveal her clit fully to him, a soft, sensitive button that he’s dying to push. He looks up at her, makes sure that he’s making eye contact with her, before fully letting himself devour her.

His tongue swirls around her clit, first going up and down, then side to side, the back to up and down because he finds it gets more of a reaction out of her. Simultaneously, he’s sucking on her clit, creating pressure that intensifies any of his movements. Y/n lets herself collapse against the bed, moaning out loudly as he ravages her clit. 

His moves a bit south, now lapping at her slit to suck up everything that’s leaking out of her. He teases her entrance, pushing his tongue through her lips and into her heavenly pussy. It feels strange at first, to have his tongue inside of her, but as he curls it upwards and continues licking her the way he’d been doing to her clit, she finds her hips rutting up to feel him even deeper inside. His eyes close and he groans, pressing his face into her. It’s still not enough, so he grabs her hips and hoists her up against her face.

He closes his eyes and groans, pressing his face into her.  His nose bends as it presses against her clit and he loses himself in bliss as he lavishes her sweetness. 

Y/n is crying out to the ceiling, feeling her belly burning as Harry goes back up to her clit and sucks it with no remorse. Her hips are twitching and her heels press into Harry’s back, a feeble attempt at grounding herself as she’s consumed by him. 

As she gets closer and closer to her release, her thighs start to tighten around his head. Her soft flesh presses against his temples, and it just sends him further into his pussy-clouded dreams. Her gentle hands slide down to hold his, and she cums with their fingers interlaced. 

Harry feels her cunt clenching and unclenching as she cums, hips stuttering and her soft voice cracking around her moans. He releases her hips and pulls himself away from the safe haven between her thighs. His lips are slick and swollen from how hard he’d been eating her out, and his tongue darts out to lick up any of her sweetness that lingers on his lips.

 Her legs that had been positioned on his shoulders now fall to the bed as he rises and climbs on top of her, finding her lips. He kisses her as her arms wrap around his shoulders, threading through the short hair at the nape of his neck. His hands wrap around her back and find the satin ribbon that holds her dress together, pulling on it to unravel the bow. The thin straps fall down her shoulders, the fitted waist loosening as the ribbon unties, and Harry pries his lips from hers so that he can help her shimmy out of the dress. 

She hadn’t worn a bra under this dress (she didn’t have one that didn’t clash with the backless design), so as he pulls the straps down her arms, he exposes her breasts. They lay relaxed and soft, gravity flattening them out a bit as she lays with her back against the bed. Her nipples are peaked with arousal, and Harry’s mouth waters. He drags the satin fabric down the rest of her body, hooking his fingers into her panties when he reaches her hips, and strips her down all in one go. Her clothes lay discarded in a pile on the floor, and Harry once again looks down at her from between her legs.

She lays so delicately on his bed, her hands coming up to timidly cover her breasts while Harry devors her with his eyes. Contrastingly to how she covers her tits, however, she spreads her legs for him. Her clit looks puffy and raw from Harry’s lips and tongue, and her entrance pulses invitingly, urging him to stuff his cock in.\

He makes haste to unbutton his shirt, tugging it off within a minute. Y/n’s eyes widen. 

“Oh my gosh,” she breathes. His abs, his chest, his shoulders, his arms… she wants to lick every single part of him. She can see his muscles, see how hard and thick and meaty they are. And the ink… “I didn’t know you had so many tattoos.” She’d seen a sneak peek of them, from the cross tattoo on his hand and the other miscellaneous tattoos that lined his wrist. But that was the extent of what she’d seen.

“Y’like them?” he asks cockily. She loves them. He can see it in her eyes, and hear it in her voice. Her hands leave her breasts to cover her face, hiding her eyes from him. He tsks. “What’s wrong, puppy? Why are you hiding?” 

“You’re just… so hot,” she whines, her words muffled from behind her hands. 

He can’t help but chuckle lowly, climbing on top of her. “Y’gonna make me blush, baby,” he teases, pulling her hands off her face. Her eyes are lustful and burning with desire, a sharp contrast to the dreamy look she usually has whenever they kiss. Tonight, she’s hungry for him. 

Her hands trace down his front, over his chest and over his abs, until she reaches his pants. She unbuttons them for him and sticks her hand in, fingers teasingly grazing his cock over his briefs. His gaze darkens, eyebrows furrowing. “Take it out,” he demands. She obeys eagerly.

She sneaks her hand into his briefs and feels his bare cock for the first time, warm and velvety to the touch. It’s large, her fingers barely being able to wrap around his girth as she pulls him out. His tip is dark pink, bubbling with precum, and his shaft feels soft against her palm as she starts to teasingly pump him. She doesn’t feel enough slickness around him, so she curls her thumb over his tip and smears his precum down, reducing the uncomfortable friction that comes with a dry handjob. 

Harry watches her hand moving up and down, delicately jerking him off. Her fingers look so soft compared to his hard cock, thick and pulsing as she plays with him. He bites his lip and gently thrusts himself into her hand. His pants and briefs still hang around his hips, but it doesn’t bother either of them considering how they’re so caught up in feeling each other. 

He puts his weight onto one arm, his other hand resting over her hand on his cock. His hand is larger than hers, fully covering it and wrapping around his cock as they glide over his cock together. He guides their hands together, up and down, really smearing his slickness all over, and getting him worked up. 

When he really can’t handle it anymore, he pulls away and gets off the bed to grab a condom. His pants hang low on his waist as he searches through his bedside table, and he sticks the wrapped condom between his teeth while he shuffles out of his clothes. He wastes no time in climbing back on top of y/n, who spreads her legs for Harry to get between. 

He sits on his knees, cock so hard that it’s bobbing up and down, and sheathes himself with the condom. Then, he hoists her by her hips so that her lower back rests on his thighs and her pussy is lined up with his erection. He paints his tip up and down her slit, before pushing in slowly. It takes a couple thrusts of just the tip for her pussy to really open up to him, and then he’s able to push himself almost all the way in. It’s a snug fit, but her plushy walls are so wet and swollen that it almost feels like she’s sucking him in.

Y/n’s sweet moans ring through his bedroom, crying out at how Harry stretches her out so well. His fingers dimple the plump skin on her hips, gripping her tightly in order to control himself. He doesn’t want to start ramming into her, considering how her tiny pussy can barely fit how thick he is, but it’s taking a lot of self control. 

Y/n, on the other hand, doesn’t care about the slight burn she feels as he stuffs his cock in her. All she wants is to feel him deeper, rutting up her hips to meet his thrusts halfway. 

“Look at you, puppy, rutting up on me,” he hisses. “So desperate for me to stuff you full, hm?”

She moans and lifts her hands up, reaching out to grab onto Harry in some way. He releases her hips and holds her hands for her, leaning his weight forward so that he’s now hovering above her and pinning her hands down to the bed. His hips start to gain force and speed, thrusting into her at a regular pace now. Her tits jump up and down with each pump, and she cranes her neck into the pillows, overwhelmed with pleasure. Her eyes are closed with bliss, eyebrows furrowed.

“Harry,” she whines, “feels so good.”

“Yeah baby?” He grunts, bringing a hand down to play with her clit. Her pussy clenches around him in response, her entire body jerking as he rubs her sweet spot. Her moans bubble out of her throat without any restraint, parallel to how her orgasm starts bubbling in the pit of her stomach. She throws an arm over her face, overwhelmed as Harry pounds into her while simultaneously rubbing her clit in tight circles. It only takes a little bit more of that before she’s falling apart on his cock.

Harry keeps rubbing her, even as she’s cumming, and revels in the feeling of how she squeezes him as her orgasm washes over her. Her voice is cracking from how intensely she feels, eyes almost watering with orgasm-induced tears. Harry kisses down her neck erotically, his lips naturally inclined to the spot below her ear that he loves sucking on so much. He must’ve been a vampire in another life, with how often he finds himself licking, sucking, biting, and loving on her neck. 

He pulls out as she comes down from her high, then taps her ass. “Flip over, puppy,” he commands. She flips around onto her hands and knees, but finds that she’s too shaky to hold herself up. Her top half collapses onto the bed, her back arched and ass high in the air. “M’gonna cum on your ass, okay?”

She nods her head, face pressed against the pillows. 

Harry yanks off the condom and jerks himself off roughly. Her slickness coats his cock and makes the glide easy. His own hand doesn’t feel nearly as good as hers did, but the sight of her, head down, ass up, in front of him, is plenty to get him off. He cums with a low groan, thick spurts of cum landing on the rounds of her ass, all the way up to her back. He takes a second to take in the sight of it, taking a mental picture for him to think back to while he was in Milan. 

She lays there, fingers gripping the sheets by the side of her head, while Harry climbs off the bed and goes to the bathroom to grab a hand towel. He wipes his cum off her back before it gets dry and crusty and yucky, then flips her around so that he can look at her face.

Her cheeks are glowing and her eyes glimmer with a post-orgasm glow. Her lips look swollen and so kissable, that Harry can’t help but lean down to peck her with a soft smile. “How was that?” he asks gently.

She looks up at him with dreamy eyes. “You… are so good at that,” she bubbles, words slurred sleepily. Her body is buzzing with the remnants of the most intense orgasm she’s had like… ever. Her legs feel like jello, her fingers are tingly, and she can’t even close her legs all the way because her pussy is so sensitive.

He gives her that cock smirk of his, a half smile that dimples one of his cheeks while his eyes glimmer mischievously. “Did I make you feel good?”

She nods. “Give me ten minutes to regain feeling in my legs and we can go again.”

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They go once more, a lot softer this time, with lots of kissing. Harry thrusts into her gently, the curls on the top of his head falling into his face as he hovers over her. Soft sighs and whimpers fall from y/n’s lips, muffled occasionally by Harry’s continuous kisses. He alternates between pecking her cheeks and down her neck, sucking and biting her bottom lip, and letting his tongue lick into her mouth hotly, each kiss garnering a new pleased reaction from y/n. And when they finally come, their hands are intertwined, Harry thrusting into her deeply and letting himself spurt out into the condom. His abdomen twitches while y/n coos at him softly, and he doesn’t pull out until he’s positive his swollen balls have nothing more to give. 

“Are you the kind of person who likes baths after sex?” y/n asks him shyly. He’s really not, but with the way y/n is looking up at him all soft and sweet, obviously he’s gonna say yes.

“Only if there’s a pretty girl in there with me,” he teases. 

She smiles and sits up on the bed, bringing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. Harry senses that she’s feeling a bit shy now that her orgasmic haze is fading away, so he offers her the baby blue button up he’d been wearing earlier. She’s dumbfounded at how easily he can read her.

As she buttons up the shirt, Harry slips on a pair of briefs and goes to his master bathroom to turn the bath on. His bathroom has a freestanding tub that sits in front of a window, overlooking his incredible view of the city. The view that only three million or more dollars can buy you. 

He’s honestly not much of a bath person, preferring cold morning showers after his workouts, so his tub is shiny and clean. He turns the faucet on and makes sure that the water is warm before heading back into his bedroom. Y/n has buttoned his shirt up all the way and looks like an angel, sitting on his bed patiently waiting for him. Her eyes find him as soon as he walks in and she looks at him cutely, with those big, puppy eyes, waiting for her next command.

He holds his hand out, beckoning her to him. She gets up immediately and wobbles towards him, legs shaky and pussy still sore. He can’t help the smile that spreads on his face – he doesn't like the fact that she’s in pain! But… the fact that it’s his cock that’s gotten her all weak in the knees… that definitely does something to him. He hopes she doesn’t notice the weak twitch his already sensitive and overworked cock gives.

He guides them into the bathroom and shuts off the water, the tub now pleasantly full and ready to fit the two of them. He lets her get undressed and get in the bath first, then strips and follows her in. He knows that he takes up a lot of space, with long legs and bulky arms, so he’d been a bit worried that this whole bath thing would be awkward. But y/n leaves plenty of room for him to get in behind her, and easily snuggles herself into his hold when he’s in. He sits down with his back against the edge of the tub and his legs spread open, with y/n sitting between them. She scoots back and lays down on him, with her back against his chest.

His hands instinctively find somewhere on her body to touch, fingers tracing up and down her arms as she soaks and relaxes in his hold. She’s so still and quiet that he almost thinks she’s fallen asleep – that is, until she lets out the softest giggle.

“What’s so funny?” 

“Your dick is tickling my back.” She giggles again.

He snorts. “Shut up, puppy.” 

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“Yeah, sorry.” She’s been fading in and out on him all night, so stressed and caught up in her school work that she could barely focus on the time they were spending with each other. He’d just spent 30 minutes eating her out to no avail, sucking and licking her clit with the kind of fervor that would usually have her writhing on the bed and cumming in less than 10 minutes. 

But tonight… she’s just distracted. So when his jaw was too sore to keep going and she still hadn’t cum, he got up to get a condom on so that maybe he could fuck an orgasm out of her.

He shakes his head, climbing into the bed next to her. “Don’t wanna do this if you’re not in the mood,” he whispers, kissing her cheek softly. 

“No, I do…” she whimpers, looking up at him with big eyes. “Was just thinking about school, m’sorry.” 

“You’ve been working so hard baby, you need to relax.” His nose nudges her cheek softly, his soft breathing tickling her skin. “Need to stop worrying or else you’ll burn yourself out.” 

“I know, you’re right,” she says, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I’m already so tired and I’m not even halfway through the semester.” 

“That’s why you need a break,” he murmurs. “Can’t do all this studying if you’re running on four hours of sleep…”

She pouts up at him as his large hands skim over her stomach. “But I haven’t finished–”

“Hey,” he shushes her. “You haven’t got any exams tomorrow, right? No huge assignment due?” She shakes her head no. “Then stop worrying. You’ve got all weekend to catch up on your homework, just relax with me right now.” 

Finally, he feels her relax into the bed, her tense shoulders falling and her eyes delicately fluttering shut. “Okay,” she whispers, “okay, yeah. I can finish it tomorrow.” 

“Good girl,” he hums, lips skimming her throat. His warm palms raise goosebumps on her skin as he brushes over her hips, rearranging himself so that he’s on top of her. “Gonna let daddy take care of you now?”

She nods as he presses soft, wet kisses down her shoulders. 

“Gonna relax and let me make you feel good?” he murmurs with his soft drawl, kissing down her tummy and over her hips. 

She shuffles around in his expensive sheets, letting herself sink into his luxury memory foam mattress. “Please.”

His finger teases at her slit, testing if she’s ready for him. Her entire body shivers at the contact, hips twitching when his cool finger slips into her warm, wet center. She clenches down around him, and lets herself forget about all her assignments and exams. All she needs to focus on now is Harry… let him take care of her the way she’s been craving. 

It’s not easy, being a college girl. She’s been running herself thin for the past few weeks, barely giving herself a break. Her days are spent cooped up in the library, studying and doing stupid physics problems, and her nights are spent at the restaurant, trying to make enough money to pay for her rent. Whenever she can spare time, she goes home with Harry so that they could have their romantic, quality time… but it’s midterm season, and she hasn’t been able to see him that much recently. 

She always feels guilty, going over to his penthouse after one of her shifts, when she could be at home finishing up her lab reports. Or, whenever she sleeps over and spends an extra thirty minutes cuddling in bed with him, she can’t help the voice in her head that nags her to get up and get to school extra early so that she can do some physics homework in the library before her lecture. Her classes are hard this semester, and she’s really been struggling to keep herself afloat, especially with all the time she has to spend working in order to pay her bills. 

So, she’s been isolating herself from him. Telling him that she can’t go over that night because she needs to study (he always insists that she let him drive her home, though), and refusing when he offers to come over and cook for her. She’s a big girl, she needs to be able to take care of herself! She refuses to let herself depend on a MAN. 

But… it’s a lot. At the end of the day, she’s just a girl. She’s tired and burnt out and sometimes… all she wants is to let go and be taken care of. She misses being a little girl with no worries, eating her mom’s homemade meals and reading all the books in the Magic Treehouse series. She misses the time when she didn’t have to worry about paying her water bills, or calculating the force of a stupid spring.

She’s spent so much time trying to handle all of her stress by herself, but now… now, she has Harry.

It feels really nice when he dotes on her, she has to admit. When he texts her throughout the day, asking for updates about her schoolwork, or reminding her to eat before she comes into work. It makes her feel cared for, like she’s not alone.

And she craves physical touch so badly. It’s like she needs it to survive. Depriving herself of Harry’s touch, of his kisses and cuddles and even the simple act of holding his hand – it’s been making her feel off. That (mixed with how daylight savings makes her get so depressed during the winter months)... it’s been sending her on a downward spiral. 

She’s hanging on by a thread… so maybe letting go, and letting Harry take care of her would do her some good. 

He sucks on her neck, warm tongue poking out to lick a mark on her throat. It feels nice, a fuzzy feeling bubbling in her chest as he pulls her skin between his teeth, then presses a gentle kiss to the bruised mark. Her heart flutters as he takes care of her, each of her worries floating away with each kiss he presses down her neck.

She loves the way his hands feel on her, so big and manly, yet touching her so gently… it makes her feel small and fragile, like a delicate glass doll that he fawns over and protects. His strong biceps bulge next to her head as he braces himself above her, the broad expanse of his shoulders hovering over her and shielding her from the troubles of the world. She traces her hand over his chest in a trance, feeling the hardness of his chest, the ridges of his prominent six pack.

He is… so hot, it’s actually unbearable. Her head spins a little bit at how strong and large the man above her is, and a gooey feeling bubbles in her tummy when she remembers that he’s all hers.

“My poor baby,” he murmurs softly into her ear, “you’re too pretty to be this stressed.” She tilts her head towards him, a silent plea for a kiss. His lips skim her cheek, puckering in slow, sultry pecks.  “Deserve to relax, be treated like a princess,” he continues to whisper, a slew of sweet words and praises filtering through the small space between them. 

His words get to her head, helping her detach from reality just a bit more. He’s right, she does deserve a break! She does deserve to let her hot and rich boyfriend take care of her! Fuck physics!

He kisses her cheek one more time and lines his cock up with her center, nudging himself in slowly. A happy sigh leaves her lips as he slides into her, stretching her so nicely and filling the empty pit that had been forming in her tummy. This is what she needed. Not an extra hour in the library, or some useless review session. She needed Harry… needed him to clear her mind, kiss her cheeks, and stuff her full of his cock. 

“How is it, puppy?” he coos, looking down at her fondly. “Feels nice?”

“So nice,” she sighs. Her arms wrap around his neck, fingers toying with the tendrils of hair at the nape of his neck. She looks up at him with her soft eyes, half-lidded and filled with a dreamy haze. He gazes down at her softly, green eyes glimmering prettily with an adoring glint as he sees how soft and gooey she’s turning now that she’s filled with him.

Her body has gone completely pliant, her once tense shoulders now loosened and her furrowed brow relaxed. Her limbs wrap around him like a koala bear clinging onto a bamboo tree, hugging him close as he rocks into her softly. And her cheeks have this warm glow to them, matching the glowing sunshine aura that he always sees around her. He can tell that there’s not one stressed out thought floating around in her brain anymore, and that she’s falling into her soft, dreamy state. 

A sweet moan leaves her lips. “Daddy,” she whimpers, pressing her fingers into the broad of his shoulders. She just wants to be close to him, feeling him all over. 

“I’ve got you baby, don’t worry.” His thrusts are steady and deep, pumping into her softly at a gentle pace that won’t overwhelm her, but still reaches deep enough to stimulate her. “Needed this, didn’t you? Needed daddy’s cock to help you feel better?” His palm cups her jaw, thumb rubbing over the apple of her cheek. She nods like a puppy, a small pout on her lips. 

Sweet sighs fill the space between them, quiet whimpers falling from her lips that she tries to contain. Her teeth nibble on her bottom lip, chewing on it so it’s red and swollen and slick with her spit. Harry can’t help himself from leaning down and sucking it into his mouth, kissing her sweetly. She keens upwards, loving it when he kisses her. His soft stubble scratches against her lips so nicely, his tongue sliding over her bottom lip and into her mouth. Warm lips slick over each other continuously, a gentle pattern of tangling and untangling as he fucks her slowly. His teeth capture her bottom lip in a delicate teasing bite, one to just make her tilt her head upwards and closer to him. 

His lips make her lightheaded, kissing her until she’s breathless and whimpering into his mouth. Even though she’s running out of breath, though, she whines when he pulls away, pouting up at him with her puppy eyes. “Kiss,” she whimpers, her voice high pitched and watery. 

“Need to catch your breath, puppy,” he warns, but she whines again.

“Please daddy,” her voice cracks around the plea, “kiss me.” 

He gives in, of course. His sweet girl, more precious to him than anything in the world, begging for a kiss – it breaks his heart to see her eyes so sad. So he kisses her lips again, gently, pulling away every few seconds so that she doesn’t go breathless again. And once she’s calmed down, no longer fussy about not having his lips against hers, he moves to kissing all over her face. Down her jawline and over her cheeks, soft kisses that tickle her skin and make her smile sweetly. 

It had been hard, seeing her wearing herself so thin. He could see it – saw the bags under her eyes from all the late nights she had, and how her normal glowing aura had gone dull from not taking care of herself. He did his best to look out for her, always offering to cook something for her, texting her and checking in on her, and giving her all the support he could… but it was hard when she tried so hard to be independent. He admired her for it, of course! She was a strong, independent young woman. So smart and mature, always working so hard. 

But… he cares for her so much. It means the world to him when she lets him care for her, baby her a little bit. He wants to wake her up to breakfast in bed, take her shopping and buy all the expensive things that she’s always fawning over on pinterest. Wants to cuddle her to sleep, play with her hair the way that he knows she loves, trace over her back in soft circles until she’s dozing off on his chest. 

Those moments when she just relaxes and lets him take care of her… that’s when he feels he can fully prove to her how much she means to him. 

Pumping himself into her, he feels himself getting closer and closer to his end. He wants her to finish first though (he’d rather die than not make her cum), so he brings a hand down and starts rubbing her clit gently. 

The more time that they’ve been together, the better he’s learned her body. So it doesn’t surprise him when she flutters around his cock as soon as his fingers meet her pretty clit. The shock of his cool fingers sends electricity up her spine, and she arches her back. Her soft tummy brushes against his hard abdomen, and she involuntarily clenches around him.

“That’s it baby,” he praises, “y’getting close?”

She nods eagerly, breathing picking up and her heart beating fast in her chest. She tries to keep her eyes open so that she can look at Harry, stare into his pretty eyes as he fucks her so nicely, but the feeling of her incoming orgasm is so overwhelming. Her lashes flutter shut and her eyes roll into the back of her head. “Daddy,” she babbles, “feels so good daddy.” 

“Yeah?” he murmurs, grunting into her ear softly as he keeps his composure together. “Gonna cum?” “Yes, please,” she whines, “wanna cum.”

“Go on then, cum for me baby.” His fingers work her clit faster, in tight little circles that he knows will make her cum, and he buries his face in her neck, lips skimming a special spot right below her ear where she’s super sensitive. When her orgasm hits and her pussy starts gripping his cock even harder, he bites down, choking down his own moans and focusing on thrusting deep inside of her, his cockhead pressing against her g-spot every time he presses his hips down. 

“O-Oh,” she cries, hips jutting as she lets go. Her cheeks go warm and a ringing starts in her ears, that familiar feeling exploding in her core and spreading into her bloodstream. Her fingers go numb and her chest tingles, and she thanks god that she has Harry to make her cum. The orgasms she used to have with her fingers are so bleak and sad compared to how Harry makes her feel. 

With an arched back she cries out sweet moans of “daddy,” Harry still thrusting into her so that she gets the most of her orgasm. Only when she finally goes limp, arms falling to her sides as if they’re made of jello, does he start to slow down. Her hands shake at her sides with the remnants of her orgasm, legs twitching every once in a while from how hard she came. He stops fully inside of her, despite how hard he and desperate he is for release, and he brushes his hands over her face, pushing her hair out of her eyes and gently petting her cheekbones. 

“Pretty girl,” he murmurs, “so pretty when you cum for daddy.” She looks up at him with soft eyes, dazed in a post-orgasmic haze. Her brain feels gooey and all she can think about is how much she loves Harry. “Prettiest girl in the world, did y’know that?” 

His words float around on heart shaped clouds in her head, filled with nothing but rainbows and fluffy thoughts. She leans into his touch, and when his thumb traces over her bottom lip, she eagerly opens it and sucks his thumb into her mouth. It nearly catches him by surprise, how willingly she takes his finger into his mouth and starts sucking on it for comfort - but with how dreamy her eyes are, he supposes he should’ve expected her to be feeling especially soft and vulnerable. 

Her pussy is so warm and wet, encasing him perfectly, and he shivers at how achingly hard he is, sitting still inside of her. He thinks he should just pull out, go wank himself off in the bathroom and come back to comfort her… but then y/n looks up at him with the cutest look in her eyes. “Did you cum?” 

He smiles, “Not yet baby, but s’okay. Want to take care of you first.” He starts sliding himself out, hissing at how her pussy practically sucks him in, almost in protest of him leaving.

“Nooo, please,” she whines, “Want you to cum daddy.” 

“Y’so sensitive baby, don’t you wanna clean up instead?”

She shakes her head, furrow in her brow. “Inside please.” 

His eyes roll into the back of his head, and he takes a sharp breath, “y’want me to cum inside you, puppy?” She nods her head. 

With a deep breath, he starts thrusting himself back into her plushy heat, surrounded by her slickness. This time he doesn’t use as much self control, letting himself revel in how amazing she feels wrapped around his cock. He swears she was made for him – her perfect body, soft and beautiful. Pretty tits that he loves to suck on, her cute tummy and soft hands. Her lips, heart shaped and candy flavored, and her eyes, filled with stars that he wants to gaze at forever. It doesn’t take long at all, before he’s pressing his hips firmly against hers in one final thrust and cums. 

“Good girl,” he grunts, kissing her cheek repeatedly as he spurts into the condom. His arms shake as he holds himself up, and his breathing falters in his chest. When he feels her soft fingers gently skim his back, he looks up at her. She smiles down at him with that pretty smile of hers, and he feels his heart explode. 

“Thank you baby,” he whispers into the delicate bubble of intimacy surrounding them, “you were so good for me, so proud.” 

He pulls himself out, and though she pouts sadly, she lies there and waits patiently for him to run and discard the condom. She expects him to run right back, maybe with a towel in hand to clean her up, but then she hears him start filling up the tub. She pushes herself up on her elbows, and contemplates getting out of bed to see what he’s up to, but he comes running out before she can move a muscle.

His hair sticks messily in all sorts of directions, so he pushes it out of his face and ties it back with a tiny little clip that she recognizes as one of her own. Standing at the edge of the bed, she thinks he looks adorable, with his flushed face and floppy curls. “Want a bath?” he asks. She nods with a glowing heart – it’s like he read her mind! She loves baths after sex! 

He picks her up bridal style and carries her into the bathroom, kissing her cheek and making her giggle in his arms on the way there. When he sits her gently into the tub, she can tell that he’s saturated the water with her favorite bath oil, a relaxing persian rose scent that she had once offhandedly mentioned to him (she doesn’t have a bathtub in her shitty college apartment, so Harry went out of his way to get all her favorite bath products to have in his penthouse so that she could take a nice bath whenever she wanted). 

He grabs another hair clip from her little stash that she keeps in his top right drawer, and twists her hair up for her so that it doesn’t get wet and bother her while they’re soaking together. And, before he finally hops in behind her, he runs to the living room to grab her hydroflask from her backpack, so that she can rehydrate and won’t get lightheaded in the steamy bathroom. 

Stepping into the bath with his long and lanky limbs is always awkward, and he would never take one for his own enjoyment. But ever since y/n came into his life, he’s gained a newfound appreciation for bath time. It’s a soft and serene place, quiet and peaceful with no need for conversation. They have some of their most intimate and vulnerable moments here in this very tub. Sitting bare with each other, without any wild passion or desperate need to ravage the other. Just… peaceful love.

Whenever he’s in his bathroom now, he’s reminded of her. The rose scented bath products that crowd the edges of his tub, the hair clips that clutter his once barren drawer, the pink handled toothbrush that sits next to his… they’re all reminders of her. 

Y/n leans back on his chest, sinking herself into the water and closing her eyes, while Harry’s hands lay on her stomach in an almost protective manner. Her breathing is steady, chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. Harry takes this time to admire his pretty girlfriend, her heart shaped lips and cherub cheeks. Her after sex glow makes her look like even more of an angel, he thinks, especially with how soft and relaxed she is in this moment. He rubs his thumb in small little circles on her stomach, and she twitches gently at his touch, eyelids fluttering and her abdomen jumping. 

“Stop,” she whines softly. “It tickles.”

A soft grin dimples his cheek, and he stills his thumb. “Sorry, baby,” he apologizes gently. Another sweet kiss to her cheek makes her smile.

She opens her eyes and looks around the bathroom momentarily. Harry, so attentive to all her needs, knows exactly what she’s searching for. He grabs her water bottle and flips the straw up, holding it up to her lips. She takes a few sips, the water cooling her down and clearing her head from how lightheaded the steamy bathroom was making her. “Thanks,” she murmurs, laying back down on his chest.

He kisses the back of her head, probably the hundredth kiss he’s given her that night.

When she’s done soaking, Harry’s quick to hop out and wrap a towel around his waist, before grabbing the larger, fluffier towel and holding it out for her. She stands up and lets the water drip off for a sec, before stepping out and letting Harry wrap it around her shoulders. While she dries herself off, he picks out one of his old t-shirts and a pair of his sweatpants for her to wear. They swallow her whole, the t-shirt big on her shoulders and the sweatpants pooling around her ankles. 

With a pair of sweatpants on himself, he coaxes her into bed with him, letting her snuggle into his side with her cheek nestled on his bare chest. His hands rest on her back and hold her close, and she falls asleep within minutes. He stays awake a little bit longer, though, planning what he’s gonna cook for her for breakfast tomorrow. 

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HI BESTIESSS HOPE U ENJOYED THIS BLURB :) NEXT PLEASING BLURB IS ALREADY UP ON PATREON!!! 

HERES A SNEAKY