3rd April - Backseat by @songbirdstyles (boyfriend harry, just filthy smut)
4th - Y/N & Harry see each other all of the time, it's a little weird, right? by @jawllines (part 2 of assassin harry)
5th - Decaf by @harrywavycurly (boyfriend harry, text fic) || False Start (footballer harry, college/uni, enemies to lovers sort of, bit of angst, bit of fluff), Mad Man by @watchmegetobsessed
7th - HTADACM: Unexpected Visitors by @harrywavycurly
8th - HTADACM: Unspoken Promises, Whisper On The Water: Spring in the Swamp by @harrywavycurly
11th - After The Party by @escapismatbest (uni harry, enemies to fuckers, no love in sight, lots of banter, harry is too cocky for his own good, smut, this was sooooo good)
14th - Bail Money by @harrywavycurly (boyfriend harry, text, group chat with the other 1d boys)
17th - You're Hot by @harrywavycurly || Aster extra: another first by @moonchildstyles
19th - From The Sidewalk by @harrywavycurly (uni harry, he's kinda nerdy and shy, reader is kind and sweet, a bit angst, fluff) || Aster extra: halloween by @moonchildstyles
21st - A Knight's Duty by @gurugirl (knight harry, princess reader who is a brat, smut, he can hear but can't touch lol, i can't even begin to explain how much I love this)
27th - Aster extra: valentine's day by @moonchildstyles
I WAS JUST THINKING ABOUT YOUUU AND WAS ABOUT TO MESSAGE YOU WHEN I SAW THIS!!! I’m so glad you enjoyed some of my stuff in April and I hope you’re doing well I love your thoughts and I always notice your absence (not is a creepy way I just love you okay? lol) thank you for making this I love seeing the days you read things and thank you for being such an amazing supporter you’re so wonderful!!💖
Oh Sarah I love you so much you have no idea. I am in fact not doing very good, life's been extra shitty, mental health is extra shitty and somehow every person in my life is suffering in one way or other. I did still read some fics though but I think I just "read" them did not absorb them like i usually do and I feel so guilty that I didn't reblog most of the things that I read I love doing that and writing long ass reviews but I just couldn't do it like putting thoughts together and efforts to write them down seems way too exhausting. But I still wanted to make this list in case someone is looking forward to it idk. I don't like this, I don't like when hobbies feel like tasks. I think I'm gonna take a break from reading and just being on the internet i guess. Need to focus on myself and the people around me
Thank you for thinking about me and noticing my absence, that means more than you can ever imagine. I'll miss you and I'll miss the random stories about the girls and your family and mr cowboy. I hope you are doing good and you stay happy and healthy. Love you ❤️🫶
3rd April - Backseat by @songbirdstyles (boyfriend harry, just filthy smut)
4th - Y/N & Harry see each other all of the time, it's a little weird, right? by @jawllines (part 2 of assassin harry)
5th - Decaf by @harrywavycurly (boyfriend harry, text fic) || False Start (footballer harry, college/uni, enemies to lovers sort of, bit of angst, bit of fluff), Mad Man by @watchmegetobsessed
7th - HTADACM: Unexpected Visitors by @harrywavycurly
8th - HTADACM: Unspoken Promises, Whisper On The Water: Spring in the Swamp by @harrywavycurly
11th - After The Party by @escapismatbest (uni harry, enemies to fuckers, no love in sight, lots of banter, harry is too cocky for his own good, smut, this was sooooo good)
14th - Bail Money by @harrywavycurly (boyfriend harry, text, group chat with the other 1d boys)
17th - You're Hot by @harrywavycurly || Aster extra: another first by @moonchildstyles
19th - From The Sidewalk by @harrywavycurly (uni harry, he's kinda nerdy and shy, reader is kind and sweet, a bit angst, fluff) || Aster extra: halloween by @moonchildstyles
21st - A Knight's Duty by @gurugirl (knight harry, princess reader who is a brat, smut, he can hear but can't touch lol, i can't even begin to explain how much I love this)
27th - Aster extra: valentine's day by @moonchildstyles
“It’s okay! Don’t worry about it, I don’t mind. It kind of seemed like Niall’s speed anyway,” he shrugged.
“But what if we had found like – like, y’know. . .your stash of stuff? Like guns and – and ties and –”
Harry chuckled, scrunching his nose, “Ohh, stuff like that I keep underneath my seat,” he pointed behind them, “ I can lift it, and there’s a compartment beneath it for all that.”
“Oh,” Y/N swallowed thickly, punching in the code to their main lobby, “Sorry though, for like – doing that still.”
“I really don’t have anything to hide from you,” he said, “It’s nice, actually, since the big thing is kind of out in the open, it feels like I can be myself. Y’know?”
or
Y/N & Harry see each other all of the time, it's a little weird, right?
[WARNING: Harry lowkey has some stalker-ish tendencies, but he isn’t being creepy for creep-sake, it’s more so ‘I need to make sure you don’t ruin this very intense, long-standing operation’ kind (and things concerning the cat)! There are also mentions of violence! if that makes you uncomfortable, this is NOT the fic to read!!]
(15.3k+ words)
part 1
ii.
Y/N doesn’t know if she should be suspicious or not.
Because here is the thing: she sees Harry everywhere. Everywhere. It started first with the boba place beside the vet, sure, and then at the bowling alley, but soon he pops up in places that she often frequents. Places she’s never seen him before, until after she met him, though she isn’t sure she could use that against him. Maybe they’d been passing by each other this whole time and had no idea how prevalent they’d become in one another’s lives. Or maybe Harry is following her much closer than he’d initially led her to believe.
She isn’t sure. It wouldn’t make sense, she thinks, if this were him following her. He had told her from the very start that if he wanted to follow her, she wouldn’t know or notice, but maybe that had just been to throw her off? Like, he said it so that if he ever did get caught, then it wouldn’t be obvious he was following her?
Because every time Y/N sees him, he is heavily involved in doing something else. Like, if he were following her, he was not doing a good job at paying attention to her at all, or at least that’s what she thinks. If she were to stalk someone, then she’d make more of an effort to focus.
For example, she ran into him at the grocery store near her flat. It was a big one in the area, but it was a chain, so there were multiple around the city, meaning it wasn’t like he needed to be at that very one specifically. The weather was so nice that week, which – if you asked Niall – was always around the time Y/N started on her “Girl Who is Going To Be Okay” tour, so she’s meal prepping and making vows to eat better. That means she’s filling up her cart with lots of fruits and veggies, tofu, whole grains, and a couple of snacks for when she inevitably gives up because cooking every fucking day is too hard (and how dare you expect her to eat leftovers for more than lunch the following day?).
Anyway, she was pushing a heavy cart out of the snack cake aisle when she almost slammed her cart into someone rounding the corner. “Oh my god! I’m sorry,” she rushed, feeling as rattled as her cart, but then she looked up at the person, expecting a soccer mom with a cart full of juice boxes – and instead, she saw Harry. Her eyes widened, calling his name.
Once he registered it was her, Harry’s smile stretched wide and bright, “Oh, Y/N, hi,” his dimples are deep crevices in his cheeks, and her thumbs itch to dig into them, but she shoves the thought away, “Wow, your trolley is pretty heavy, isn’t it? Do you need some help pushing?” He’d inquired as if he wasn’t pushing his own full cart of groceries.
Y/N couldn’t help but peer at him, though, “You come to this store?”
He nodded, “Yeah, all the time.”
“Really? That’s so crazy, I’ve never – I’ve never seen you here before.”
Harry hummed, running his palm along the handle of his cart, “Yeah, isn’t that crazy? I’ve never seen you either, haha, are you stalking me?” He was teasing, at least she’s pretty sure he was, “If you’re concerned, though, I have some receipts from the last couple of months, before you and I ever met. I have an app that, if I scan the receipts, gives me points toward a gift card. Would that make you feel better? If I send you some?” Y/N opened her mouth to tell him no, because she wasn’t trying to seem crazy, but he cut her off, “Actually, I’ll just go ahead and send them.” Then he motioned toward her cart, “But seriously, Sweetheart, that’s full. You’ll have trouble carrying those home, won’t you? Let me help.”
She did end up letting him take her home with little fuss because he was right, it would have been horrible trying to cart all this home alone. Then he helped her pull it all upstairs, put it away, rearranged her fridge and pantry in a way that was more “palatable” and easy to go through if she was going to be meal prepping, gave Muffy a thousand kisses on her tiny head, then went on his way. Y/N is a little bit boggled by how quickly she went from suspicion and distrust to allowing him in her home again. She wondered if he was just good at manipulating the situation, if she was stupid, or if it was a little bit of both. Who knows?
And, listen, if that was one off, Y/N wouldn’t have thought anything about it.
But then she sees him at a craft store, lingering around the embroidery hoops with a basket full of supplies. Y/N had been planning on going for a couple of days before she finally did it. Aki’s birthday was coming up, and she was a clay keychain making god, so Y/N was going to get her some more of the supplies that she likes to use. They’re relatively inexpensive, but “annoying to buy,” as Aki had put it. Plus, there were some paints and a new type of resin she’d mentioned that she’d like to dabble with as well, so Y/N had filled her cart full of things. Enough that she had a feeling the “inexpensive” aspect of this was no longer going to be a factor.
That’s besides the point, though. This was the second time in the span of only a few days that she and Harry ran into each other outside of any sort of spot it’d make sense for them to meet (which, they didn’t have many – maybe an alleyway would make sense, or her flat, since he probably already knows how to get in and out through her window, no matter her being on the fifth floor). Then, she was really getting suspicious – her eyes narrowed from across the aisle. As if he had a sixth sense (and he probably does), he turned to face her. He must have felt her gaze burning into his side.
“Oh, wow, this is getting kind of creepy,” Harry noted.
“You’re telling me,” Y/N replied, only she was the one to approach him, keeping her cart in front of her so she didn’t have to slam it into him, “I didn’t know you embroidered.”
There were a lot of things Y/N didn’t know about him, so it was sort of stupid to say. Like, she didn’t know what exactly his job entailed. She didn’t know how someone so weird but also kind of normal, and nowhere near gloomy enough, got involved in a job like the one he has. On top of that, Y/N doesn’t know if he is actually a psychopath who is doing a really good job at seeming normal.
But she doesn’t know what his favorite food might be, or if he knows how to ride a bike well. She doesn’t know if he’s a shower-in-the-morning or in-the-evening kind of guy, and if he sticks to a strict skincare routine. Y/N doesn’t know if he folds his laundry neatly and puts it away, or if he just pulls from his hamper and lives out of it like a suitcase. What was his favorite color? Did he have a favorite show? Did he like going out to eat? And why did Y/N care about any of this?
The things she does know? Harry likes cats (he likes Muffy, especially), he actually puts his fruits and veggies in the labeled drawers in the fridge, and refuses to have cereal and granola bars on the same shelf (granola bars are a snack food, not just a breakfast food, they should be put with the snacks), his biceps are big, he likes boba tea (Gladys does love him Y/N found out when she went after one of Muffy’s vet appointments, because Y/N caved and asked) he’s the “best uncle ever”, and he thinks that she’s beautiful.
And, apparently, he likes to embroider.
“I’m not the best at it,” he admitted to her, slipped his phone out of his pocket, and started scrolling to his photo album labeled Crafting Attempts, and he scrolled through it to show her his different “attempts”. Y/N found that Harry’s “not the best at it” and her “not the best at it” are two completely separate things. When she’s attempting something, it is usually sort of ugly: the stitches are uneven, the paint is runny, the clay has fingerprints all over it – whatever the media she’s trying to work with, because she convinces herself that she could become really good at a different craft every couple of weeks to keep life magical.
Harry’s attempt, Y/N found, is a beautiful and intricate piece that someone would probably spend 100 quid on without batting an eyelash. He’s not just embroidering cheesy sayings with flowers around them – he’s embroidering scenes. Mountainsides and trails, coral reefs and sea sunsets – things that Y/N would have never thought to even try. Her mouth fell open as he scrolled through them, clearly his hand holding the hoop, or a couple of them, he took a selfie with them like he was proudly sending them to someone.
“Wait, what the fuck?” Y/N touched his phone, zoomed in closer on his work, “What do you mean you aren’t the best at it? This is amazing!”
He smiled sheepishly, and his cheeks even had the nerve to color a little, “Really? You think? My nan says I still have a long way to go.”
“I’m like. . .horrified and intrigued to see what her pieces must look like if this is what has a long way to go.”
His dimple was cute when it popped out on the left side, and Y/N really wanted to dig her thumb into it again, but she refrained (she’s so strong-willed). “Do you work with clay?”
So, somehow, they finish out the rest of that shopping trip together, too. Y/N explained that she was really here for Aki, and somehow or another, Harry wheedles out some information that Y/N wanted to learn how to learn how to tunisian crochet. Then he showed her the best hooks for it, the best yarn, and she was convinced she could crochet a summer tube top with the pattern he promised to send her, because he’d made one for his sister. This time, Harry doesn’t follow her home, but he does give her an air kiss and specifies that it was for her to keep, save, and give to Muffy.
Y/N sees him at the boba place again, and they sit down for a drink together. When she and Niall are picking up lunch, Harry is at the same sandwich spot (where he told the guy over the counter, “I’ll have the usual,” so it’s obviously somewhere he frequents). Getting coffee with Aki and Harry is plucking his lip at one of the tables and typing on a computer. For fuck sake, she went to get a newer, bigger telly because there was a sale at one of the department stores closer to her, and Harry is in the same store, trying to decide what LEDs to get for wrapping around his TV.
It’s suspicious – if it were anyone else, Y/N would have for sure been convinced that they were stalking her and that was that. And, if it were anyone else, she would have probably filed a police report a long time ago and started carrying around mace. She had every reason to believe that Harry would be stalking her, due to the nature of their relationship, but every time they bumped into each other, he had just as much of a reason to be there as she did. Plus, he is always so willing to prove to her that it wasn’t him tracking her location, because “I trust you’re not going to go to the police at this point. Also, I’ll get an alert if you’re within 1 kilometer of a station, so I’m not worried.”
There’s also the fact that wherever she ends up, Harry already seems to have been established there. His basket is always fuller, his food is typically a quarter to halfway gone, the seat he’s sitting in is warm, and the workers know him. Even in places Y/N has never been, she bumped into him. Honestly, it really is starting to look like Y/N was the one stalking him, and even Niall had questioned her on it, after the fourth coincidental run-in with Harry when she suggested they try out a new cafe across town.
“Like, I’m not going to judge you, I’ve done my fair share of cyber stalking, but babe, if you’re trying to make a good impression, we should probably be a little less obvious that you’re following him around.” He had a straw tucked into the corner of his mouth – Harry had come to sit with them for a while, then suggested they try the peach lemonade for something refreshing and his favorite fruit tart (“I hope it isn’t too tart-y of a treat for you, to pair the both together. I’m a big fan though.”). They did, and tried it in front of him, and after they told him how good it was, he left.
“I’m not stalking him,” Y/N stressed, and if she could explain to Niall how, actually, it had been the other way around for a while, she would have, but she has to bite her tongue, “It is like the universe is desperate to make us cross paths at any given moment.”
Niall hummed low, thumbing a crumb off the corner of his mouth, “I don’t know how to tell you this, but he must be your soulmate then. Like, your red string of fate is making damn sure you’ll bump into each other several times a week.” He scratched the side of his jaw, “I read this one story where Cupid was getting pissed because this couple kept ignoring blatant signs they were supposed to get together, so he came off his cloud and shoved their heads until they kissed.” He took another drink.
Y/N sighed, “Is this the same story where Cupid had 'huge, tit-like pecs and a giant bulge’? The yaoi?”
“Ugh, yes, it was so good,” Niall unlocked his phone, “Let me send you the link again.”
It was weird, all of it, but again – she fully believes that if Harry was stalking her still, he’d A: Tell her about it, or B: Be so stealthy and secretive that she’d have no clue. This did seem like a next-level sort of Cupid-like fate, trying to get them to run into each other in a normal, meet-cute kind of way. Like that had been the plan all along, but they screwed it up by Y/N going on the blind date and Harry mistaking her for some model, knees deep in some garbage.
The only time this now routine interaction starts going differently is when she accidentally goes to a sex club.
Now, it was more complicated than it sounded. Y/N, Aki, and Niall had all made plans to go to this new spot in the city that had special, coordinated theme nights. Y2K, cybercore, burlesque, kpop, 90s hits, 80s party – things like that. They had never been before, but they had all been seeing advertisements around, whether in person, on the back of a bench, the side of the bus stop, or online, when FYP and home pages started getting a little too clued in on the area they live. And there was J.J., the receptionist at work, who overheard them speaking about it and let them know she’d gone on ‘Hippie Hooray Thursday’ and it was a great experience. The drinks were still relatively cheap, and it wasn’t overcrowded yet, like most places like it tend to get. The vibes were also very “girlie pop,” which was comforting and at least gave them a little more of a chance at escaping borderline harassment from drunk dickheads at the bar.
On a normal day, the three of them would pull up together, not only to save money when they Lyft but also because none of them likes walking in alone. Whether that be at a restaurant, at a club, a bar, or a random swim meet, so Niall’s nephew has more people rooting for him, or Aki’s cousin’s graduation, that she didn’t want to be bored during – arriving together is a must. Namely, because it saved them from the horrible and awkward interaction of scanning the crowd in search of your friends, not being able to find them, trying to message them, and having terrible service in that moment for no other reason but to make life harder. Also, that’s too much time for an unwanted suitor to stumble up, smelling like he might have missed the toilet during his last piss, and smelling like he might have gone into a sauna without deodorant early in the morning (when everyone is at their stinkiest, or at least that’s what Y/N thinks).
But tonight, Y/N would be a little under an hour late. She had made a promise to her neighbor that she would help them hang something – his name is Mikey. Mikey is really nice, and he and his boyfriend have helped Y/N bring in some pretty heavy boxes from the mailroom, so she thought it was the least she could do. She had a studfinder and a drill, and was at least proficient-ish enough to use them to help hang his new telly. It wouldn’t take long, but Mikey didn’t get off work until 7 PM, so it would stunt her getting-ready time by a little.
Theoretically, Niall and Aki could wait for her, but she doesn’t want them to miss out on any time since she had made a promise to someone. And this particular club stops selling drinks at a certain time – earlier than the others, for whatever reason – so she didn’t want them to miss out on that either. They liked drinking more than her anyway, so it wasn’t like she felt pressured to catch up either. So she told them to just go ahead, and she would catch up with them. Niall sent her the address for her to put into Lyft.
Y/N should have known something was up the moment her Lyft driver, a nicer, older woman (thank god), who raised her eyebrows when she saw where they were headed, “Oh, wow,” her voice was soft, but shocked, “I didn’t realize they’d opened up yet.” She looked through the rearview, a glint in her gaze, “My husband's been wanting to go, but I don’t know if it’s necessarily our scene.”
“Oh no, you should definitely go! I think stuff like this can be anyone’s scene,” Y/N smiled, not thinking anything of it. She’d imagined a middle-aged couple dressed like the red carpet in the early 2000s, or in their best 1920s Hollywood glamor, having the time of their lives, and it made her heart warm. Just because you’re on the older end doesn’t mean you can’t have fun anymore – she hated that notion.
The intersection was innocent enough. Her car smelled how they do when they’re fresh from the dealer, and the interior is sleek and dark, so she pretends that she’s a celebrity with her driver taking her to the city for a big gala. The shorts she was wearing were riding up her ass, and the seam was shoved up against her puss, but she could bear it when she was maladaptively daydreaming. Y/N messaged them that she was en route and to at least keep an eye on the door so someone could grab her when she walked in.
When they pulled up, there was red lighting pouring out of the door, highlighting half of the bouncer's face. The theme tonight was some hybrid version of cybercore and the feeling you get when you’re in the title screen of a game on one of the first PlayStation consoles. Aki sent her a couple of Pinterest boards and brought her a bag of clothes to pick through so that she could construct an outfit. So Y/N has a glittery, silvery belt that isn’t functional mostly just for fashion, and everything is white and blue. She surprisingly had these sort of reflective boots from a rave that her cousin begged her to go to. And her hair was filled with silver hair clips, enough that she thinks if she walked through a metal detector, it would start screeching. There’s also a little Tamagotchi clipped to one of the belt loops – she hopes this is the actual vibe, or she’s going to feel like an idiot. She is a little confused by the lighting, though.
“Be safe!” The driver told her, waving, “Remember to use protection!”
Y/N gave a shocked giggle as she left the backseat – she had not been expecting that for sure. It was sort of presumptuous of her to think that Y/N was going to be fucking, but she is a young woman going to a club, so – fair enough. She thanked her, closed the door, and then walked up to the bouncer. It was 20 quid at the door, which Niall hadn’t mentioned, but she figured that with as many advertisements as they have and their current social media presence, they needed to recoup some, somehow.
When she walked in. . .well, she was a little confused. Y/N seemed to be the only person who took the theme seriously, which automatically makes her want to crawl under a rock. It’s a little smoky here, like they had a fog machine somewhere, almost, but she had a feeling that it was just a lot of vapes, cigarettes, and weed – her lungs would definitely be upset with her after this. The air felt heavy and warm except for a few spaces where the air conditioner was blowing hard, and she could tell there were more clusters of people hovering around. There are more sitting areas than she’d anticipated, and the music is not as electronic as she was expecting, either. Plus, everyone was moving very. . .horn-ily? Y/N doesn’t know what else to say. People were pressed close, with not a ton of space, and they’re grabbing and holding places that are not super respectful for a first meet, and unless all of these people know each other, she’s imagining that some of these people are strangers.
And Y/N doesn’t slutshame! She just had no idea that this was the vibe here – J.J. did not mention that this was so sex driven. She would have definitely prepared herself a little more mentally (and physically, too, hell) if she knew that was the main objective of this place. Y/N’s squinting, searching for her friends, and reaching into her purse to find her phone to let them know she was here.
When she was looking down at her phone, she accidentally knocked into someone. Hard enough that she nearly stumbled back, a gasp leaving her mouth when she felt someone grip around her waist to steady her, “Whoa, whoa!” The voice reached her, and Y/N looked up from her phone to the guy who caught her before she made more of a spectacle, “You alright?”
“Yeah, sorry,” she righted herself, standing up straighter, and his hands fell away from her. The man before her looks sort of familiar, but she wouldn’t be able to place him if she tried. Maybe he just had one of those faces, honestly. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“I could tell,” he chuckled, reaching a hand to comb through his hair – in the lighting she couldn’t tell what color it was, but it was dark. He’s in a tank top, but in a fashion way, over a douche-y frat guy way, she thinks. Y/N is suspicious of the sunglasses that he has, pushing his hair from his face, but he has an earring that dangles from his left ear that catches in the glimmering neon sign. He’s cute, and if she were in a situation, she better understood she might think he was cuter, but she’s a little disoriented right now. His gaze comes up and down her body without even bothering to hide it. “Are you here alone?”
Y/N blinked, “Oh, um –”
“There you are, baby.” More hands slip around her belly, the sliver of skin from where her shirt rides up, only this voice she knows quite well at this point, “You’re late.”
When she tilted her head to look up at him, he was already looking at her, a soft but exasperated smile with a gentle huff, shaking his head, and there was something in his gaze that said play along, “You need to watch where you walk, Sweet girl.” Then his arms squeezed around her a little tighter. This is as close as she’d been to him since he’d held her at knife point in an alleyway. She thinks she should be somewhere in a sympathetic response, all things considered, but she melts into him instead. Harry feels so broad like this, and she can feel his chest through whatever he’s wearing,
The guy doesn’t walk away at first, looking at the two of them curiously, “Hm. Is she a puppy?”
Harry’s hand, feathery, snakes up to her throat. He drags the pad of his thumb across her thudding pulse, and Y/N’s brain completely blanks, “She’s more of my kitty,” he presses down a little, her eyelids flutter – what the fuck is happening, “But she’s too shy to be collared in public.”
“Hmm,” the man hums, “You should get her a necklace then, to ease into it.”
“Ahhh! You’re so smart,” he taps her, “Isn’t he smart?”
Y/N nods, at least being able to respond when prompted, “Yes,” she answers, blinking, probably looking like he’d cleaned out all the thoughts in her brain because he did – there was nothing left to knock around in there, “So smart.”
The guy chuckles, holding out his hand to shake, and Harry meets it first, gently, then Y/N. His grip is firm, and his rings are still cold, pressed to her sweaty palms. “I go by Ben,” he replied, “Are you and your kitty up for a third for a night? I wouldn’t mind helping you train her.”
What the fuck is going on?!!
Harry laughs, presses his cheek into the top of her head, “Hmm, that’s really a nice offer, but we’re still quite shy – this is our first time. Maybe next time?”
Ben is thankfully (or maybe she isn’t thankful – what the hell, she doesn’t know), Ben takes it well, “Of course,” he nods, “I come on most Fridays, if you ever change your mind. Have a good time, yeah? Be safe.”
He touches them both lightly, then heads in the direction opposite to them. Harry doesn’t take his arms from around her, waddling them deeper inside the club. “Just come with me, okay, kitty?” He murmurs close to her ear, and Y/N nods, resting her arms over his arms and letting him lead her. She should probably yank away. Honestly, she probably should have pulled away the moment that he started whatever role-playing scheme she had somehow gotten caught in.
But instead, for whatever reason, she just goes with him. There’s a large, open archway that leads to a hallway that’s a little darker, but still a muted red-ish pink. A ton of doors line either side – it almost looks like one of those backroom edits, but Harry seems to know that one three down and to the left is empty. At least he opens the door pretty confidently, twisting the knob and shoving it without a second thought. He ushers her inside before they finally separate, and she feels far colder than she had. The heat immediately left, and Y/N is left shivering, frowning a little.
The room is nice. It’s a little small, but she guesses that a sex club doesn’t necessarily need a luxury master bedroom to fuck in. Still, the walls are a velvet blue, and the red lighting is finally exchanged for something warm and yellow – string lantern lights and lamps that bring this nice, comforting glow. The bed is on the wall perpendicular to the one with the door, neatly made with light colored sheets, which might be both a blessing and a curse (she’d love to use a blacklight on that, and the walls, that must be horrible to try and clean). There’s a small loveseat adjacent to the bed, a small coffee table, and beneath the table top, there’s what seems to be different whips and cuffs. A few random art pieces are on the wall, all varying sensual pieces – how could a blob of colors be sensual, she doesn’t know, but she’s just catching a vibe from it.
“Sweetheart, I’m going to ask something, and I don’t want you to be offended,” Harry finally began, and Y/N turned to him, where he was standing in front of the table, looking concerned. Her brows dip, and the frown that had been on her mouth pulls just a little deeper on her cheeks, “Are you following me?”
Y/N blinked at him. Her brain, which had finally started working again, starts to short-circuit again, “What? Excuse me?”
“It’s just – I see you everywhere, and most of those things I can kind of explain away – especially since I had access to your internet. Well, technically I still do –” he runs his fingers through his hair, “But I know for a fact that this sort of scene is not for you at all. You’ve shown no interest in a BDSM club, and I don’t think you’d just randomly hook up with someone here either.” He shook his head, “If you’re following me, sweetheart, I don’t mind it, but I’d rather you just ask me if where I’m headed is work-related, because I don’t want you to get caught up in something dangerous again. Like with –”
“Okay, wait, wait, wait!” Y/N put her hands up, “Why would I be following you around? What would that do for me? Jesus Christ, Harry,” she huffed, “I haven’t been following you, I’ve been wondering if you were following me. I’ve been going to the places we run into each other for years now! And I promise you the last thing I want is to get mixed up in all of the – whatever it is, since the first time I did, I was almost killed.” Harry grimaces at that, like the memory is just as horrible as being held at knifepoint, “Plus, if I were some mastermind, wouldn’t you know that already? You’ve got access to all of my shit.”
Harry considers it, nodding a little, “Yeah, I guess you’re right about that. But still,” he searches her face, “Why are you here? This really doesn’t seem like your thing. And you aren’t necessarily dressed for it.”
She is still frowning, pointing outside, “I’m meeting up with my friends. But I have a feeling that Ni sent me the wrong address,” she pulls out her phone, pulling up their message thread and flipping it over, “See?”
Harry’s eyes darted across the screen, then he pouted his mouth, “Ah, I see –” he pointed in the vague direction of outside, “The themed club is a few spots down.”
“Yeah,” Y/N replied, flipping her phone back around and replying to a slightly panicking Niall and Aki, who are wondering where she is. She tells them that she just went into the wrong place and that she’d be on her way in a minute, before slipping her phone back into her purse, “So that’s my explanation. What are you doing here?”
He scratches the back of his neck, “Ah, well – that guy you and I bumped into? He’s got a link to ‘pet food man’,” he explains, and Y/N realizes then why he’d looked so familiar. When she’d done a hate stalk of the pet food guy post being stood up, this dude must have been in a lot of photos with him. At least enough that she could recognize him a little, seeing him in the low, red lighting of a club, “I rented this room in particular because he was using the room next door, but I stepped out for a drink once I realized he was really just in there to fuck. When I was at the bar, I saw you bump into him and – yeah. Sorry about all that, I was just. . .I was worried that he might try to sleep with you.”
Y/N knuckles at her eyes – the night hadn’t even officially started for her, and she was more than ready to go home. A hot bath, Muffy eyeing her warily from the edge of the tub, and the promise of her bed just a couple of meters away seemed really nice right now. “So that’s why we were LARP-ing a kinky couple?”
“Yes, exactly. Plus, if he realized who you were, he might start getting suspicious and. . .yeah, I just don’t want you mixed up in this at all,” he takes a step closer, looking guilty, “I’m sorry for accusing you of following me. I really had no place.” He reached out and readjusted the straps of the tank top she had on beneath her off-shoulder t-shirt, fixing them so they weren’t folded in on themselves. It feels nice, his fingers beneath the fabric along her shoulders. “But, for the record, if you were following me, I really wouldn’t mind! It’s mostly safety reasons that would have me concerned, you know?”
Laughing, Y/N nods, “I get it, I’d – I mean, I’ve been wondering the same for you. Our circumstances are just weird.” Then she points toward the door, “I really should go to the right club, though, before Niall and Aki have a panic attack.”
“Let me take you, I know exactly where it’s at.”
Y/N finally looks at what he’s wearing now that everything has been settled. She thinks that only he could make a plain white shirt and jeans look almost sultry enough for a sex club. The shirt itself wasn’t all that fitted, but his chest was so big that it almost made it pretty tight around the area. And for some reason, the watch on his wrist was doing something for her, but she blames that on whatever must be getting pumped through the vents here. Like an aphrodisiac or something, to get people wanting to fuck.
“Um, not to be annoying, but to avoid suspicion, I probably need to be on top of you again,” he suggests before they open the door, “If you don’t mind, that is. But – uh – if he, for whatever reason, knows who you are because of the pet food man, I just have this bad feeling that he might try and. . .lure you in, or something. I don’t know. Maybe I’m being paranoid.”
If the assassin is paranoid, Y/N is going to take it to heart. The pet food guy had messaged her a while ago, and she had simply never responded, all things considered. She’d even asked Harry if he wanted her to respond in the name of his investigation or whatever, but he told her absolutely not. Y/N isn’t sure what Mr. “I go by Ben” could do by wanting to fuck her, or get involved with her and Harry, but she’d like to avoid it, she thinks.
She grabbed his hands and placed them on her waist before twisting around and melting back into him. There are worse places to be, definitely, and the way he morphs around her body is so natural, it’s almost like he’s done it a thousand times before.
“Just follow my lead again, kitty,” he murmured softly, “You did so well last time.”
The praise shouldn’t go to her head (or her pussy), but it does, and she blames the little sliver of arousal burning low in her belly on, again, them pumping something through the vents. Instead of acknowledging this, or how her heart is racing, or the way she’s kind of dizzy when she realizes, once again, how good he smells – she says, “Meow.” It made him laugh, and then he opened the door.
Exiting isn’t difficult, though they do pass Ben again, who gives them a little nod as they leave. They don’t peel off each other until they’re further away, and even then, Harry stays close, a hand gripped around her bicep as he squeezes her arm. “You usually don’t show up at places on your own like this,” Harry noted, “There’s safety in numbers, you know?”
“I know,” the weather isn’t horrible tonight, relatively warm for what it has been, so she doesn’t feel like she’s shivering out of her bones for the first time in forever, “I was helping my neighbor, so I had to come a little late.”
Harry hums, “The one on the left? The girl with the bunny? Did Oliver get stuck under the dresser again?”
“No, it was the one on the right – Mikey,” he squeezes her arm again, as they’re walking up to the door to the bouncer, and he slips out his wallet and takes two bills out to pay. Y/N starts to go to grab her wallet so she can immediately pay him back, but he shakes his head and uses his free hand to remove her purse from her hands, and holds it instead. Y/N, at this point, knows better than to argue with him and just lets it go. “He needed help with his TV. He’s bad with drills.”
Before Harry could respond, as soon as they stepped into the club, she was almost instantly jumped, “God, where were you?” Niall’s hands grabbed her shoulders, “I was about to send Aki to go hunting!”
“You look good,” Aki pulls at the bottom of her shorts a little, her fingers sneaking up beneath the denim, “Gorgeous. Who is the straggler you picked up?”
“Oh! Um, this – this is Harry,” she introduced Aki, who had only known him in name alone, and Niall’s borderline perverted description of him (“He was wearing jeans when I met him, so I was catching print, and it was flat Aki, I think he’s a size D for sure.”) “The Lyft dropped me off at the wrong place, I think, or you sent me the wrong address. I haven’t dug deep enough to figure out who was at fault,” she nudged Harry with her hip, “But he saved me, so it’s okay.”
Aki, who clearly was at least one drink and maybe a shot in, drops her mouth open, “Oh my goddd,” she gasps, “You’re the level D.”
Harry tilted his head, smiling, “I don’t know what that means,” he raised his hand, “But I’m Harry! It’s nice to meet you – you’re Aki, right?”
Aki grins, meeting his hand and shaking once, “Yes, yes, yes, that’s me. Did Y/N tell you about that time we kissed a year ago?”
His eyes widened, mouth falling open as he looked to Y/N and then to Aki, “Uh – no, she hasn’t yet.”
“Well, she loves to kiss, fun fact, if you ask her, then she will. All you have to do is ask! She likes it when you bite –”
“Enough!” Y/N places her hand on either side of Aki’s shoulders and presses her backward, encouraging her to walk, “Let’s go sit or something.”
“I’ve kissed her, too, a couple of times if you were wondering. It really is just as easy as asking,” Niall told him gleefully, “Come on, Harry, we’ve got plenty of space for you.”
. . .
Harry drives them all home.
First, he drops off Aki. He walks her up to her flat while she and Niall stay in the car, and almost as soon as he disappears from their line of sight, Niall leans forward to stuff his head between the driver and passenger seat. Y/N was on the passenger side, minding her business on her phone, while Niall popped open the middle console. “Should we dig through his shit?” He inquired, but he had already decided what he was going to be doing. Y/N’s heart rate immediately skyrocketed because she immediately assumed that Niall would be finding a gun or something. The gun, thankfully, is not in the middle console where Niall is searching – instead, they find sunglasses, tissues, a couple of spare dollars, and hand sanitizer. One thing that’s a little sketchy is that he has two tampons and two pads tucked neatly in an underneath compartment, but it’s alongside ibuprofen, motion sickness glasses, lotion, and Zyrtec, like a small, driven pharmacy.
“Oh, wow, what the fuck,” Niall thumbed through it all, “You guys might be perfect for each other, these are your brand of tampon and pads and everything.” He closed it, “Look in the glove compartment.”
That’s almost painfully normal, too. His car manual, insurance cards, all the shit you get after your car gets inspected. There are a lot of coupons, too, a couple of receipts, and like four punch cards to different places (the boba place near Muffy’s vet, a frozen yogurt spot, a cafe, and what looks like a bakery card), and that’s about it. Y/N thinks he either brought his normal person car and he has a second one, or there’s a secret compartment or something with everything else.
Niall sighs, “Okay, all we learned is that he is thoughtful and a loyal customer. Does he volunteer at an animal shelter, too, or –” Just as he brings it up, Y/N reaches in and finds a lanyard with his name, a badge, the name of their city’s humane society, and his picture with the label VOLUNTEER. “You’re joking.”
They scramble to put everything back when they see him appear in the front doors. Their phone buzzes, and Aki has sent a picture of herself on her sofa, with a granola halfway in her mouth and a message:
Hey, big dick is really nice, Y/N, I love ur new boyfie
Harry gets back into his car, “Okay,” he buckles back up, and shifts his car into drive, “Let's get you home, Ni. Do you need to stop anywhere before we go?”
“Noooo,” Ni pokes Y/N’s shoulder, “Hey, can we have a sleepover with Aki soon? I wanna do cute shit.”
“Yeah,” Y/N agreed easily, only realizing then that she was still holding one of Harry’s punch cards in her hand. She slipped it under her thigh, hoping to leave it on the seat, and maybe Harry would think he’d just accidentally left it out, or something. He probably wouldn’t think that, but he’s also too nice to question her, so it would work out. “We can give each other light back tickles.”
“Yes. . .Harry, do you have any experience with light back tickling?” Niall inquired, because he’s Niall, and he’s nothing if not a master wing man with the devastatingly good ability to be inclusive in all things.
Harry, who is just so willing to go along with any conversation and anything in general (like when Aki said that whoever had the biggest hands had to go buy them a round of drinks, and he stood up without even a whisper of a whine or complaint), told them, “I have a lot of experience. My sister used to make me rub her arm for hours at a time, and in exchange, she’d let me hook the PlayStation up to the telly in her room so I could play scary games.” He wiggled the fingers on the wheel, “I’m a tickling master though.”
“That’s so perfect, because Y/N had an ex once who never petted her ever,” Niall laid a sympathetic hand on her shoulder, “Which is so sad, it’s like ignoring a kitten at your feet. He was the worst.”
“Ni, please never speak again.”
Harry makes a disgruntled sound in her throat, “That’s horrible. I think petting someone is like the best part of any relationship, right? To pet and be petted. We’re all animals at the end of the day, wanting affection.”
Niall squeezes her shoulder, “That’s what I think too. Well, anyway, make this left up here if you want to take a shortcut.”
Once they’re dropping Niall off, Harry offers to walk him up to his flat, and Y/N prays that Niall says no. There was zero reason for them to have any amount of time alone, lest Niall start divulging all of Y/N’s deepest, darkest kinks in an effort to get things going. Especially when she spots a borderline evil smile stretching across his mouth. She tries to quickly think of any excuse she could that would make Harry stay in the car and have Niall fend for himself, but she doesn’t have to, “Nah, I can fend for myself. And I can’t be trusted with any sort of brain-to-mouth filter when I’m tipsy. Who knows what I would have started sharing?” He leaned in and smushed a kiss against Y/N’s temple, “Byeeee!”
They stay in the parking lot until Niall sends a picture of himself in his flat.
Don’t do anything too crazy tonight, but if u do, take measurements
“Alright,” he hums softly, “Let’s get you home, Sweetheart.”
The drive is nice and smooth – Harry is a really good driver. She doesn’t give him enough credit for it; the couple of times she’s been in the car with him, she hasn’t gotten to really pay attention to it. This is the longest she’s been in the car with him, though, and the way he operates a motor vehicle is hot as hell, honestly, the more she thinks about it. She would be willing to sit in the car with him all day, whether it was going from place to place running errands, or on a road trip of some kind.
“Do you want to come upstairs and see Muffy?” Y/N asks, and Harry gasps.
“I thought that was a given,” he held a hand to his chest, “Do you think I’d ever say no to seeing my baby?”
Y/N is feeling sort of buzzy around the edges, warm. If she and Harry were closer, she’d be employing him to give her back tickles until she fell asleep tonight, but they aren’t. Maybe one day they could be – or maybe that would be weird, all things considered. Y/N isn’t sure what the appropriate relationship to have with Harry is, since it seems like they’ll be in each other’s lives no matter what. Maybe what Niall had been saying about that red string of fate had more validity than she’d originally given it. It did seem like they were running together, twisting, entangling, making it more and more difficult for them to unknot. Like when you’re sewing with a piece of thread that's too long that loops and tightens into the tiniest knot you’ve ever seen – one you can’t get your needle to pierce through, even.
And there was the fact that he so seamlessly became a good addition to her trio, despite not really planning on being involved. He laughs, and he tells his own jokes, and both Aki and Niall seem to be absolutely smitten with him, which is saying a lot because they absolutely hated her ex. If he wasn’t meant to be in their lives, then how was he able to make it feel like he’d been a part of their group from the very start? To the ease with which he joins banter, to how happy he seems to be involved, and how he’s so engaged with the conversation. He’s asking questions and remembering things that they had said earlier in passing, or things that Y/N has said (he asked Aki all about her clay making).
But then there’s the thought that. . .well, that’s sort of his job, isn’t it? Was he fitting in seamlessly because of who he is as a person, or was it because of who he wanted them to think he is? She’d seen how easily he could morph into someone meant to be taking up space where he was, only fifteen minutes before they met up with her friends. Nobody would have questioned for a second if Harry belonged in that sex club – and the ease with which he adapted, acting like they were lovers, shy enough to deny a third, but experimental enough to be there in the first place – it should make her suspicious. Y/N should be more suspicious of him now than she’s ever been.
She wasn’t, though. For whatever reason, Y/N trusted Harry more than she trusted a man with a hood walking down the street, and Harry was a known hitman – they met because he’d held a knife to her throat! Was she stupid? If she told Niall or Aki any of this, they’d probably shame her, then lock her in a cage, and never let her step foot outside alone again. Since she clearly couldn’t think for herself.
“We’re hereeee,” he says softly, and Y/N gathered her purse and popped the car door open. She waited for him to get out too before she started ahead of him, and Harry made a little sound in his throat, “Oh, hold on, you’ve got something stuck –” The sound of his footsteps sped up on the pavement, so he’s right behind her, before something is carefully plucked from her thigh. It’s with horror that Y/N realized it was one of his punch cards – the one she’d slipped under her leg so that she could inconspicuously leave it in the seat. “Silly, you forgot to put it back.”
Y/N turned to look at him, blinking several times at him, “I – um – why do you sound not surprised that I have it?”
Harry smiled, “You guys went through my stuff, right? When I came back in the car, I set my elbow down on the middle console, and it clicked shut, so I figured you went through the glove compartment too?”
Her face feels hot, twisting to face forward again, “Um, well – uh –”
“It’s okay! Don’t worry about it, I don’t mind. It kind of seemed like Niall’s speed anyway,” he shrugged.
“But what if we had found like – like, y’know. . .your stash of stuff? Like guns and – and ties and –”
Harry chuckled, scrunching his nose, “Ohh, stuff like that I keep underneath my seat,” he pointed behind them, “ I can lift it, and there’s a compartment beneath it for all that.”
“Oh,” Y/N swallowed thickly, punching in the code to their main lobby, “Sorry though, for like – doing that still.”
“I really don’t have anything to hide from you,” he said, “It’s nice, actually, since the big thing is kind of out in the open, it feels like I can be myself. Y’know?”
The list of things Y/N had never experienced in a man just gets longer and longer the more time she spends with Harry. He didn’t mind if she went through his things, he’d very comfortably typed in his phone password right in her line of sight, and if she inquired about his job then he answered her questions right away, with zero hesitation and almost brutal honesty. Not even three hours ago, he had been entirely too accepting of her stalking him so long as she wasn’t following him anywhere dangerous. Enough that he had said it twice! Y/N thinks she could probably show up at his flat without having ever been invited and having zero reason to know where he lived, and Harry would accept her inside with open arms. He’d probably even offer her tea and dinner or something.
Once they open the door, they’re greeted by Muffy, who must have heard her messing with the lock. She laced between Y/N’s ankles first before toddling up to Harry, who plucked her up and brought her to his chest immediately, “Hi, pretty girl,” he hummed sweetly, leaned in, and nuzzled into the side of her body, “You smell so good – like the bigger kitty.”
Y/N’s face gets hot when he mentions it again, leading them into the living room, “Shut up,” she murmured, “You’re annoying.”
“Awww, what?” He followed deeper inside, but he’d walked this pathway so many times, Y/N thinks he even knew where the floorboards creaked, “You played your part so well, I would’ve thought you’d done it before. Maybe you are a kitty.”
Y/N, who had let her purse slip off her shoulder and drop to the floor with a thud beside the coffee table. She twisted around, eyes narrowed, and pointed at him, “Hey! I barely even spoke; you were way too equipped to play the part of whatever the heck you were doing. You’ve definitely done that before!”
He smiled, a dimpled cheek, “Well, yeah,” he told her, “I have.”
She paused, still pointing, “Oh, you – you have?” He nodded, and maybe a sober Y/N wouldn’t be so nosy, but a Y/N with a couple of drinks in her gets possessed by a Niall-shaped demon, “Wait, what? How so?”
Harry tilted his head, “What do you mean, how so?”
“Like with who and what were you doing?”
He held a hand to his chest again, in that ‘old southern woman who is appalled’ way that he likes to, and she’s seen it happen several times that night, “That’s not very appropriate to talk about with a lady.”
Y/N stared at him, brows dipped, “A lady? You were practically choking me and saying I was a sex cat less than three hours ago!”
“I was playing a part!” He answered, placing his hand on his chest over Muffy’s ear, “And there’s a baby here, we shouldn’t pollute her ears with it.”
“So what, were you like pulling them around on a leash or something?”
“Y/N!”
“I just want to know!”
“Yeah, I’m picking that up,” he replied, “But why? Is it really that important?”
Y/N doesn’t know. She’s blaming this on the liquor and also Niall polluting her mind with the notion that if a man is in your house, you deserve to know every single aspect of his life and then some. She thinks that’s only if you’re dating, though, probably, and having sex – if they were, Y/N would expect to know every minute detail. But they weren’t – honestly, Y/N doesn’t even know if he considers them friends. Are they? Maybe not. Y/N isn’t sure what they are, but friends doesn’t seem right – neither does acquaintances.
She couldn’t explain why she wanted to know; she just knew that she did. Now that the image was in her head and with what had transpired that night, Y/N needed to know immediately why Harry was able to fall into that dynamic so easily. Even if it was brief, and even if they didn’t need to go that deeply into it. Y/N thinks that if they had to do a scene or something in front of Ben, then he would have enacted it flawlessly. And then the picture of her on her knees in front of him on her hands and knees starts to haunt her, and she just needs to know, okay? A few cocktails crossed her blood-brain barrier, and suddenly every question she’s ever had needed to be answered right now.
“I don’t know,” she admitted, shrugging in an effort to seem nonchalant but actually being very much the opposite, “Like – friends talk about this stuff, right?” Saying friends even seemed weird on her tongue, and her body feels warm, flushed from alcohol and the embarrassment of Harry even looking at her right now when she was floundering. She isn’t looking at him, instead pretending that there was a stain on her shirt that she was suddenly hyperfixating on.
Harry said, probably the worst thing he could have said.
“We’re friends?”
So, she is actually refusing to look at his face at this point. And she’s not drunk enough to not remember this so it will haunt her in the morning, but she is drunk enough for tears to threaten the back of her eyelids almost instantly as she mutters, “Um, nevermind, I’m just g’na go take a bath,” before turning on her heel, “Just – uh, see you later.”
But Harry doesn’t let her get away with it that easily. “Wait!” His voice was a little loud as he looped around her, intercepting her route, still clutching Muffy to his chest, “Wait, Y/N, I didn’t mean it in a shitty way! I was genuinely asking!”
“Okay, well, now I’m embarrassed,” she answered a little too honestly, and the tears were coming whether she wanted them to or not, so she held a hand over her face, “You’re not allowed to look at me right now, or it’ll be more embarrassing, so you have to go.”
Harry is usually pretty good at listening, but this time he isn’t. He carefully placed his fingers on her wrist and pressed down, moving her hand away from her face and revealing her watering eyes. She doesn’t even know why she was about to cry – it was stupid. First, she tried pressuring him into explaining the clear pet play dynamic he had with a relationship in the past, and then she suggested they were friends, and he questioned her, and vodka cranberries always made her a little quicker to get teary over anything, especially if she was embarrassed. And right now she was embarrassed. It wasn’t Niall who couldn’t be trusted alone with Harry, it was her.
“Sweetheart, I’m sorry, it came off differently than I intended,” he offered, “I was just wondering, that's all. I kind of thought of us as friends, but with our situation, I didn’t know if you thought of us as friends, y’know? But I honestly see and spend more time with you than I do with any of my other friends.” His fingers stayed on her wrist, looping around it gently, “I just wanted to confirm. It makes me happy that you see us like that, instead of me being the weird, creepy stalker that got you mixed up in rich people bullshit. Please don’t cry, or honestly, I might start – I’m sort of a sympathy crier.”
“Crying, who’s crying?” Y/N asked, clearly moments from tears, “You are a weird, creepy stalker,” she sniffled, and Harry giggled, squeezing around her wrist, “But yeah, I think – I don’t know, I think we’re friends. Niall definitely thinks he’s your friend at this point – Aki, too. It takes one good drinking experience and a drive home before you’re locked in as one of their pals.”
Harry stayed for a little while after that. At least until Y/N has drunk two glasses of water and preemptively taken a paracetamol, and pinky swore she won’t fall asleep in the bathtub, before he finally made his departure. Muffy watched him leave at the door, and it almost made Y/N cry again, and she realized, once more, that she was a little drunker than she originally thought and intended to be.
She feels tired, but she still makes herself get in the bathtub. Y/N filled it high with bubbles and oils, then sloshed around in there for a while, while Muffy – as per usual – hovered from a spot on the corner of the tub and watched her carefully. Every so often, she’d bat the foam of bubbles, and Y/N would scoop and place it in front of her. Besides that, Y/N scrubbed some of the bar sent off of her and slowly, but surely, sobered enough that she was re-embarrassed by almost crying in front of Harry and actively replaying how it felt to be pressed up against him, with him kissing her head and pretending they were a BDSM couple. It’s a haunting mix of humiliation and desire that’s ruthlessly making her horny, so she tried to ignore it.
Alas, she couldn’t. After toweling off and shoving herself into a big shirt, she pulls out her phone and gets an incognito tab. It isn’t like she’d never seen it before; there’d been posts and stuff online, smut she’s read with it, fanart she’s seen drawn of it – she doesn’t think she’d ever seen an actual video of it before. So she’s curious, what it would actually look like, and if she is doing this with the intent to imagine Harry in the place of the man and her in the place of the woman, then that’s her business.
Because at the end of the day, Harry is very attractive. He’s attractive and nice, and he just doesn’t put off nearly as many bad vibes as he should, given the context in which they’ve met. Plus, he looked sexy driving, and his watch was hot on his wrist, and it made her want to hump his hand – she doesn’t know, maybe thinking all of this is crazy, but she’s ovulating probably, so. . .sue her.
The couple she finds seems to have another page with non-free content, but she doesn’t fall into that wormhole, so she just clicks through their 3-minute previews. They were fully committed, actually, collar, leash, and all – but Y/N found that it isn’t necessarily the aspect that she was interested in. Pet play was all fine and good, but she thinks she just liked the condescending tone and the humiliation that probably came with it, walking on all fours, acting like an animal.
So then she finds other profiles. A lesbian couple where one of the women in the video had rules that she couldn’t touch herself, but she did, and subsequently got punished for it. A gay couple where one of the men was tied in pretty, purple silk rope in a way so lewd that Y/N’s mouth had fallen open (and she pulsed around nothing). There was a throuple that had one member sitting on the floor, helplessly rubbing his face against their legs, begging for attention that they were keen on withholding.
Y/N wasn’t even masturbating – it felt like she was researching for a project or something. She’s maybe on her 10th or 12th video when a message from Harry pops up at the top of her screen.
Are you still interested in what you asked before?
About how I acted it out so well?
It took her a second to register that Harry had not only messaged her but asked what he did, that she was staring blankly at her phone, and was almost checking out for a second. Her brain helplessly clicked its gears for her to respond before she finally paused the video and swiped out of the tab, going to their message thread and opening it up.
Well, yeah I am
I give him a lot of shit but I am just Niall, at the end of the day
The three dots pop up immediately.
okay, but you have to promise to answer a question of mine too, but you can’t ask a question about my question
Okayyyyy
Sketch but i wanna know
Harry takes a moment to respond, but the dots are there on the screen, so she knew it was only because he was typing. She could swipe back into the porn tab, but she quickly convinced herself that, if he wasn’t already tapped into her phone before, messaging her somehow would give him a direct gateway to what she was looking at. Or, she imagined Muffy stomping over her phone, then copying and pasting the link of the video and sending it to Harry, all with her teensy little paw pads. So instead, she just stared at the screen and waited patiently, her heart starting to kick a little faster against her chest.
sooo, it was a couple years ago but i used to be in this like pretty intense dom/sub arrangement where we sort of let it bleed into our real lives, and it wasn’t master/pet or anything but it really wasn’t all that spectacular or crazy, but we did have a list of rules and they did get punished if they didn’t follow them. . .stuff like that
idk if you were expecting something like spectacular and insane, but that’s all there is to it really
i guess i don’t come off as someone who is into that though since you seemed kind of surprised
Y/N’s fingers moved before she could really think.
Like what sort of punishments?
Asking in the spirit of friendship, of course.
Her heart is full-blown thundering now, when Harry replied.
y’know like usual stuff
spanking, edging, overstim, understim
things like that
Oh wow, okay
Thank you for telling me all of that. I was really curious
Y/N’s palms felt sweaty as she held her phone in a tight grip, afraid it would slip and hit her in the chest. She felt short of breath and antsy, like she needed to stick her hand down her pants, but also go to bed immediately because once she actually gets off thinking about Harry, she’s done for. “The first nut dedicated to them is the nut of impending hyperfixation,” is what Aki had said once, and Y/N agreed that it could not be good. Unless she was on the direct route to have sex with the person, she had to keep her hands to herself.
I'm glad to satisfy your curiosity
So now you don’t have to look up porn about it
Her face lights aflame, looking around her room hastily, as if Harry would suddenly be standing beside her or something. Then she remembered that he had access to her phone, and her thumbs tapped against the screen to exit out of the tab, then go back into their messages.
Heyyyyy, I thought you weren’t looking at my phone anymore!! Jerk!!!
sorrryyy, i didnt realize i still get notifs when u open an incognito tab
:(
Aww, c’mon, don’t cry about it
You’re a cute crier though so maybe cry about it a little and send me a picture. In the spirit of friendship, of course.
Y/N immediately opened the camera and frowned at it, making sure Muffy – who was slowly waning in and out of sleep – was in the shot.
Pretty girl
Girls ***
I’m going to ask my question now, okay?
Y/N hearted all three messages then waited for him to answer.
Mikey, your neighbor. . .does he invite you over to help him a lot?
Ummmm not a ton, no
Just when tools are involved
Do you ever go to not help? Like to hang out?
Not really??? We’re friendly, but not that close
He usually has his boyfriend over anyway.
Oh! Boyfriend!!
Well, that’s great! Was just wondering, glad you can help your neighbor :))
You should drink one more glass of water before going to bed
Ugh, but I’ve been peeing like every five minutes from the first two
The more pee the better, keep it up!
Sweet dreams!!
Y/N flopped her phone face down on the mattress. She isn’t sure what he cared about Mikey for, but knowing Harry, it was probably some long, convoluted background that he somehow shared with the uncle’s, sister’s, cousin of Mikey, knowing the pet food guy. She’s still sort of caught up in the fact that not only did Harry tell her what his old BDSM-y relationship entailed, but let her know that he knew she was looking at porn, and on top of that, called her a cute crier and then called her pretty when she sent a pic. That was a lot to handle – if she told Niall and Aki any of this (sans the incognito mode tidbit), then they would both spontaneously combust, she’s sure of it.
She buried her face into her pillow and squealed.
What the hell was going on right now?
. . .
Y/N was a little scared.
In any other time of her life, she wouldn’t have been, because there wouldn’t have been a reason to be. Seeing some guy she was supposed to go on a blind date with that stood her up would have made her angry rather than frightened. Her teeth would grit together, she’d dance with the idea of calling him something derogatory or being the bigger person, and end up stalking off, thinking about beating his ass. Then she’d recount the story to Niall on the phone in dramatic detail, who would recount it in even more theatrical detail to Aki later on when Y/N had finally let it go a little bit.
But this time she was scared, yeah. Mostly because she didn’t really recognize him when he walked up to her. She was at the mall. Y/N liked to go, sometimes, if she had a free day with no other plans and nobody to shop with. She used to think it was sad to go alone, but it was relatively cathartic being able to float around aimlessly, walking in and out of stores that she wanted, leaving when she didn’t want to be in there. The only thing that sucked was if she wanted to try something on and was unsure about it, there was nobody to bounce ideas off of, and she was nowhere near outgoing enough to ask one of the staff.
So, this Saturday, she’d planned a little mall day. She’d gotten a mani/pedi that morning, as soon as the place by her flat opened to beat that afternoon rush of all the walk-ins and scheduled appointments. She wore sandals today, for the first time of the year, since the weather was nice and her feet looked well-cared for rather than the reptilian-like appearance they take if she takes too long to get them done. There was nothing fancy about her outfit, just a t-shirt and shorts, but the sun felt good on her skin even in the brief moments she was outside, so she wasn’t overly concerned with what she looked like.
Y/N had been to three stores already and had gotten a good amount at each. Each hand had two bags each in it that she’d been swinging around at her side while she debated if she wanted to go into the candle store and obnoxiously sniff all of the scents, until she needed coffee beans to clear out her nose. She’d already spent like 80 quid, and while the financially responsible side of her thinks that she should stop there, the less clever side thinks that she might as well round it up to 100.
She had just decided that she was going in when she’d been stopped beside the massage chairs.
Y/N has only been stopped a handful of times in her life by strangers. Once, it was because she favored someone’s cousin, whom they had been waiting for at the park, and then had Y/N stay so they could meet (they did look quite similar). There was a second time somebody had asked her where the nearest bus station was, a heavy accent that she had never been able to place, but she walked them to the subway (and told them to use the translator app if speaking their language was more comfortable – and then she learned the Polish way to say thank you). And then the third time was because her shoe was untied, and a very nice (albeit very drunk) older woman placed her hand on Y/N’s shoulder to grab her attention, pierced her bicep with fake, pointy nails, and told her, “You’ll trip like that, Hon, you need to tie ‘em. “
It doesn’t happen often, though. Y/N isn’t sure why – maybe she doesn’t look very friendly, she always thought, but Niall told her that was not the case at all. In university, he did his thesis on the social interactions of modern young adults and realized that it was disordered and complicated. Going up to someone to strike up a chat rarely inspired confidence in making a new friend, and instead made most people’s hackles rise. Immediately guarded, worried, and wondering what their next move would be, and if it might involve hurting them. That used to be the only way to make friends, to amble up to them while you
So, understandably, when it happens at the mall, Y/N is instantly paranoid, especially with everything that was going on. She gasps when their hand reaches out to rest on her shoulder, and she jerks away, only to be met with a soft chuckle, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” and that is not the voice she’s used to hearing those words from. Where she should be turning around to see Harry, all sweet and smiling at her with two dimpled cheeks, she instead sees the pet food man (who she knew was named Finley, at this point, but just simply didn’t deserve to be referred to by anything other than his job description).
Y/N blinked – she looked him up and down and noted that he was in a suit at the mall, and this was not wealthy enough of a mall for him to be wearing a suit here, of all things, “Oh, I’m so sorry to interrupt you,” he said, in a way that didn’t seem sorry at all, but she might just dislike him so everything he does is going to be horrible and annoying, “I just – you look very familiar.”
“I hear that every so often,” she replied, “But I don’t think I’m who you’re looking for.” She rolled her shoulder in an effort to get him off of her.
“Ah, you might be, though,” he held out his hand, “I think we were supposed to go on a blind date together?”
Y/N paused. She knew why, she knew what he looked like, but she didn’t know how he could have known what she looked like. It made her skin crawl a little – she isn’t even sure why, or what he’s doing that’s so sketchy, it’s just the fact that it is, and the fact that Harry so adamantly dislikes him is enough for her. Plus, the suit at the mall, and the way his smile doesn’t reach his eyes very well. She can tell that he’s someone who pretends to smile a lot.
Still, even with the fear that tickles the back of her brain, she nodded, “Yeah, I think we were. Before you stood me up, that is.”
His eyes widened like he hadn’t been expecting her to bring it up, and honestly, Y/N hadn’t been expecting herself to bring it up either. Niall and Aki would be proud of her, she knew that at least, but Harry would probably grumble at her. It was silly to engage, he would tell her, that he’s a dangerous man capable of doing dangerous things, even though he just runs a pet food company. The best thing would have been to politely decline that she was anyone he could possibly know, then head off in the opposite direction.
Instead, she stands before him, trying to look unwavering, “I need to go,” she told him, clearing her throat, “Have a good day.”
He should leave her alone, but he doesn’t – of course, he doesn’t. When she tried to walk away again, he stopped her once more, “Please, hear me out – something came up,” he told her, sounding a little desperate, “And time just got away from me, so by the time I realized what time it was, it had been far too late for me to show. Then I felt like a dick trying to contact you, but –”
“Really, I’m not interested, okay? It was very embarrassing and –” I almost got killed because of you, you random jackass! “--and I never want to think about it again, so let’s just call it.”
It was weird, though, wasn't it? That he had even stopped her in passing in the first place – why would he do that? (And why was he at the mall in general? She thought rich people did most of their shopping online and in those fancy boutiques that only they could afford.) It’d be one thing if they had met before this moment and he had recognized her as she passed, but this was odd. Y/N would never in her life stop a blind date that didn’t even happen, on their way to their next destination, to do what, exactly? She really hadn’t let him get far enough to explain what his purpose for stopping her was. There was just something fishy about the entire thing, and now, ever since Harry, she’s been a lot more wary about the people who surround her, and this guy – Finley – was a major red flag.
Something prickles at the back of her neck, and she is suddenly very, very grateful to be in the middle of a crowded mall rather than somewhere stuck and alone with him.
“I just want to make it up to you,” he told her, but Y/N was sliding out her phone from her purse and clicking on Harry’s message thread, typing an all-caps ‘CALL ME’ that she hoped he would see right away, “Seriously, just one coffee! It’d be on me, yeah? To make amends, and –”
Y/N’s phone began to buzz, vibrating against her palm as she clutched it tight, “I’m already seeing someone else,” she lied easily, “And it wouldn’t be respectful to him.” She slid to answer, placed the phone to her ear, and gave Finley a small nod, before pitching up her voice a bit, “Hey, baby,” she used the pet name, hoping that it would indicate to Harry that something was wrong. Harry may call her baby this, Sweetheart that, but Y/N never used any pet names when she was referring to him, “Are you on your way?”
“Y/N?” He immediately seemed suspicious – she could hear it in his tone, “Is something the matter?”
“Yeah,” she answered vaguely, already wandering away from Finley, who, thankfully, hadn’t followed her; however, she did see that he was immediately on his phone, which was also weird. Still, despite the distance she’s putting in between them, Y/N still feels anxious and worried enough not to explain the details too vividly: “Can you come?”
“Okay, I’m on my way. Stay on the phone with me until I get there.”
It wasn’t the most dangerous situation to be in – again, she was in a very public, crowded mall on a Saturday – but still, her heart thundered in her chest. She felt a little queasy about all of it, squidgy while her bubble tea from earlier sat heavy in her belly. Y/N’s looking around, suddenly feeling very helpless, very hopeless, and wondering if he’s bad enough to have a hitman after him to some degree, then he could be bad enough to have his own hitmen. Should she have acted more chill? What if she pissed him off and now he’s going to send a hit out on her or something? Fuck! How horrible is it that she even has to worry about shit like this? He was the one who stood her up! He was the reason she’d even had a knife to her throat in the first place, even though she somehow, in the most dysfunctional way, made a friendship out of it.
Harry makes her talk about what she did today. She could tell he was trying to distract her, but it wasn’t really working – Y/N was too hyperaware of all of her surroundings now. For some reason, she keeps imagining him popping up Michael Myers style and slowly but menacingly following her through the mall, and somehow keeping pace with her running while he does a slightly fast pace walk. Still, she tries to tell Harry about the earrings she bought with a matching ankle bracelet, the new skincare, and lip gloss. Even he seemed distracted, though, as he hummed at her, prompting her gently but nowhere near the active listening he’s usually doing when anyone is involved.
It takes him a little less than 12 minutes to get there. Y/N takes one brief look over her shoulder to see if she could spot him hovering behind a plant or a person. Then she trots a little when she’s going to the front entrance, where Harry idles illegally in the fire lane. The door is already being pressed open, like he didn’t want her to waste even a single bit of time, and only once she’d crawled into the passenger seat does he hang up the phone.
“What happened, baby? Tell me every little detail.”
And she does. Now that she tells it back to him, it really didn’t sound all that horrible, but her heart was still racing, and her palms were still sweating like he’d grabbed ahold of her and pushed her down, or said something threatening. She mentioned several times that maybe she was just too in her head about it, and it was actually more normal than it felt. Y/N even momentarily suggested that maybe she was the off-putting one to him, with how frantic she started to get trying to get away.
Harry nipped that in the bud quickly, “No, you aren’t being dramatic, this is very odd behavior for him. He never goes to the fucking mall – rich fuckers like him, never do.” Y/N nodded, “This whole thing is weird. You were right to be suspicious.”
“Do you need to go back in?” She pointed toward the mall, “I feel better about going back in if I’m with you, since –
“No,” he denied her immediately, “Not, this is as close to anything as I ever want you to get. And even this was entirely too close,” he shook his head, “Honestly. . .would you be okay if I came over to your flat and stayed for a while? Would you mind?”
Y/N shook her head, “I would mind more if you left me alone,” she told him, “You can stay for as long as you like.”
. . .
Harry is irritated and feeling soft, and it’s the weirdest combination of feelings that he’s ever had to deal with in his life.
Irritated for the obvious reason – Y/N doesn’t deserve any of this. He meant it, from the moment he realized that she was not Antonyia, he was so deeply apologetic that he was breaking his own key rules, like giving out his name or letting someone see his face. Both of which he’d done in rapid succession of one another, when most of the time, what he perceives as a target never sees him coming in the first place. All she’d been doing was going on a date that had been set up by her friend, and she was not only stood up, but then held at knife point in an alleyway because she’d been trying to save a kitten, of all things. It was a horrible case of wrong place at the wrong time, and she had to suffer because of it – it’s not even like she could go to the police about it, namely because he had to threaten her not to.
So, yeah, Harry feels horrible about it. In a different universe, they would have had the meet-cute of the century. Like in the human society where Harry volunteers on weekends, or at the boba place she seems so fond of (Gladys is starting to like Y/N more, he thinks, and he has a feeling he’s going to have to start fighting for her top spot as favorite customers). He would probably be bewitched by her gentle demeanor, then thrown off by a quick tongue and a sort of bratty mouth, but he’s always been into that, so it would’ve worked fine. He would have asked her on a date, for coffee, or to share a little slice of cake at a bakery.
Instead, Harry met her in an alleyway, thinking she was someone else, and threatening her for information that she didn’t know. Then he left her with a tiny, stinky kitten after she’d been traumatized because he needed to go find the actual Antoniya, who very clearly must have been tipped off for neither her nor Finley to show up to the restaurant they both separately had reservations at that night. Though he warned her, he had to track her messages, her calls, internet searches and history, and her location. It wasn’t the most ideal way to get to know someone. He really tried to lay off too, after like the first couple of days, he realized that she seemed to be more of the suffer in silence and the ‘pretend like it didn’t happen’ approach, which benefited them.
It seemed as though fate had wanted their paths to cross, though. If Harry believed in soulmates, even in a platonic sense, then he would think they were something of the sort. How else would it make sense that they literally run into each other everywhere? Harry technically, only officially followed her without her knowing a couple of times. He’d traced her to and from work the first couple of days, and all of this had started. And once he realized quickly that she had no intention of exposing him and blowing up a plan that had been years in the making, he stopped. The fact that they’d run into each other so many times was even starting to get creepy to him, and he was technically the weird stalker of the two. But it seemed like everywhere he turned, she was there as well, almost like she was following him.
He should be more weirded out by it than he is, but he isn’t. Harry doesn’t mind it – and she’s cute, and gets this silly look on her face every time she sees him when she wasn’t expecting to. It’s this very same look that has convinced Harry, without a shadow of a doubt, that Y/N wasn’t actually following him with some ulterior motive in mind (the only time he got really, really suspicious was the whole sex club ordeal, but that was easily explained away).
They were just meant to be in each other’s lives, for whatever reason. Harry believes that even if they hadn’t met in the off-kilter way they did, then he and Y/N would have found their way to each other somehow, someway. Their paths were meant to cross, whether it be in an alleyway, at a boba place, in a bowling alley, in a craft store, at the grocery, at a sex club – it was certain, and predetermined, he thinks. It was enough to make him believe in something like soulmates.
He’d been growing quite fond of her, too, the more they interacted and spoke to one another. Y/N was funnier than he thinks she knows she is, and she’s sweet, and almost way too okay with their dynamic and how they met. Harry thinks he’d be hard-pressed to find someone who would willingly let a known, somewhat stalker accompany them on the rest of their grocery trip, or sit down with them for a boba. He doesn’t think he’d be able to find one who was willing to let him come into her flat at all, and have total faith and trust in what he says. Because Harry always means what he says, but she had no reason to believe that after they first met, but she just does.
When she admitted that she considered them friends (and then promptly cried because she was drunk and Harry had the worst sort of response in the world, probably), Harry’s heart felt squishy and malleable in a way it only does when he’s feeling particularly endeared. Like when he looked Muffy in the eyes for the first time and thought he’d probably do anything in the world to protect that kitten. The same goes for Y/N, he thinks. He’d felt this urge to protect her once before, when she had called him on her way home, nervous about a guy in a hoodie. But that had been relatively new to their dynamic, so it wasn’t anything crazy.
But now, it was something else entirely. Now, Harry just wanted to lock her up in her flat and keep her safe where he knew he could. He didn’t like that Finley, all of a sudden, was at the same mall that Y/N was at, and was close enough to grab her and make her uncomfortable, both physically and with words. It was suspicious, just like she had described it to him – the fact that he stopped her even more so. Harry suspected that whatever this was had something to do with Y/N’s likeness to Antonyia. Finley was sort of a dog, so it wouldn’t be out of the question for him to utilize someone to his personal benefit, even if it meant putting them in danger. Harry isn’t sure what the plan is, but he knows with time, he could sure as hell figure it out, and figure it out quickly enough that he would be ahead of them again.
He would do a sweep of her flat, just in case, and make sure that nobody other than Harry had been tracking anything regarding her. Then he’d double-check that all of her locks and windows are still latched firmly. He’d look for even a bowl or a bottle of lotion that was out of place. He’d probably teach YN how to spot differences like that, too, just for future situations where this might arise.
So that’s why he was feeling irritated. He was feeling soft because Y/N was currently asleep on the sofa with Muffy against her belly, and he thinks it might be the cutest thing he’s seen in his life. She’d been so wired right after they got home, she was just jittering with nervous energy. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, she fell asleep quickly on the couch beside him when he was looking at the weather. She was closer to him than he wondered if she actually meant to be, with her head curled up on the pillow that was directly besides thigh. Harry had to hold back from combing his fingers along her skin a couple of times after finding out that she liked to be petted. She was snoring even, these feathery little noises. The fact that she felt safe enough with him to fall asleep so deeply made something warm stir in his chest. Same with Muffy, snuggled all close to her, sweet and soft.
Harry thinks he’ll probably be spending a lot of time here in the following days.
A/N: I don't know how to write short smutty blurbs anymore, you guys. I swear I always try, but then I want some background or I feel like I need to add plot where there doesn't need to be any 😭 This was not meant to be this long. But here we are! (I also worked some more on mean king this weekend, hoping to get the next chapter out soon!)
Summary: Princess Y/n is a bit of a brat, but her knight doesn't mind much. Based on this prompt: insatiable princess fucking herself dumb on her bed moaning his name x desperate knight listening to her get off but isn’t allowed to watch
Word Count: 6.7k
Warning: Sexual content (masturbation, auditory voyeurism, erotic sexual denial, tease and denial)
The thing about Princess Y/n, Harry had long ago decided, was that she was a brat. Spoiled, pushy, entitled, shameless, and she never got into trouble for anything she did, mostly because he never told anyone about the things she did when no one else was around. As annoying as she could be, he’d never betray her trust. And as the knight who stood guard over her, he knew far more than he should. Probably more than anyone else knew.
By day, he followed her around, keeping a respectful distance while also being close enough that he could protect her from anyone who got too near or intended to harm her. But by night, things always got a little… tense. She saw to it that they were.
The knight was sworn to uphold his duty as her protector and guard, and so he did it without complaint. Day in and day out, he put up with her obnoxious attitude and ever-shifting moods. Some might say that Harry even liked it, despite the constant look of contempt on his face.
There were several reasons why Harry liked being Princess Y/n’s on-duty guard. The first was that when the king called the calvary together for battle, the princess had insisted to her father that only Harry could watch over her properly, that she trusted no one else and because she always got what she wanted, the king allowed Harry to continue his station at the castle as the princess’s full-time guardian and protector. Being Y/n’s watcher was far better work than going into battle and getting one’s head chopped off, he thought. The second reason he liked being around the princess was that, as rude as she could be, she was entertaining. He enjoyed the unnecessary drama she caused, though he couldn’t tell you why he did. The third and most important reason was something he’d never tell anyone. It was because he was in love with her. And that third reason probably explained the second reason, but Harry didn’t try to think too deeply about that.
They were in the square that day. The princess had wanted to go shopping, and so Harry went with her, as was his duty. He stood about three feet back as he watched Y/n speak with some nobleman who he thought was standing a little too close for his liking. He shifted, hand on his belt, and narrowed his eyes at the man in his finely tailored getup. Y/n laughed and then casually looked over her shoulder, meeting Harry’s gaze and grinned. He knew the look. She was about to cause trouble again.
When she looked back at the man, she slid her arm into his, and they began to walk toward the fountain together. Harry swallowed and kept his usual distance, though now his attention and his focus were heightened. He would only allow this man to get as close as he was for just a little longer before he stepped in to intervene. And the princess knew that.
The moment they reached the fountain, Harry understood she had chosen the spot on purpose. Because the square was busy enough to make a scene risky, open enough that he could not very well drag her away without causing one himself, and close enough that he had an unobstructed view of the nobleman hovering at her side like a buzzing fly. The square around them was full of life and people milling about. And right in front of him, Princess Y/n was setting a trap, and only Harry was privy to what she was doing.
She paused at the fountain’s edge and pulled a coin from the little silk purse hanging at her wrist. The nobleman leaned closer, smiling as though he’d been granted some great intimacy. Harry’s posture drew tight as he watched.
Y/n turned the coin over between two fingers, glanced at the water, then bent slightly at the waist to toss it in, pressing her palm against the stone. It was hardly enough of a movement to warrant concern. Hardly enough for anyone to think she might fall. But she knew what she was doing, and the man next to her played right into her plan.
The nobleman shifted, his hands landed at her hips in a mockery of helpfulness, fingers spreading over the curve of her waist as though he had any right in the world.
And Harry, without much thought, moved before the coin had finished breaking the water. “Step away from her.”
His voice cut cleanly through the noise of the square, causing a few passersby to turn into spectators, slowing their steps to watch the performance.
The nobleman startled and removed his hands, though not quickly enough to satisfy Harry. Y/n straightened and turned, looking between them with a bright expression, waiting for the fire she started to be put out by her knight. Once again.
The man recovered himself with a forced smile. “The princess has asked me to accompany her.”
Harry stopped just in front of him, close enough now that the nobleman had to tip his chin up a fraction to maintain eye contact.
“I am the one accompanying her,” Harry said evenly. “And she did not ask you to place your hands on her.”
A flush rose in the man’s face. “I meant no offense, Sir Harry.”
“And yet you offend.”
The nobleman blinked, glancing at Y/n. “I was only… assisting.”
Harry flashed a look at Y/n. She was watching with open amusement, one gloved hand still laid flat over the fountain’s stone lip, as if this were all some private entertainment arranged solely for her. Which, he supposed, it was as this was her doing.
He looked back at the man. “You may leave now. She doesn't require your assistance.”
The nobleman puffed himself up then, offended now that there were more sets of eyes drifting their way, bits of attention catching on the edge of the confrontation. “You overstep yourself, knight.”
Harry stepped closer, then, only half a pace, but it was enough. Enough for the nobleman to acknowledge the warning in his posture. Enough for him to notice Harry’s hand settling on the hilt of his sheathed sword.
“I guard her,” Harry said quietly, dangerously. “And I have reason to believe your intentions are not honorable. This is your last warning.”
The man looked at Harry’s hand, then at his face, searching perhaps for bluff, for hesitation, for some sign this might still be argued into a victory he could save face with. But there was no victory for the nobleman here. Even the princesses’s expression told him that much.
The look on his face soured. He gave Y/n a stiff bow that she did not bother returning with any sincerity, then turned on his heel and disappeared into the gathering crowd of onlookers.
Harry watched until the nobleman was fully swallowed by the movement of the square before he let his hand fall from his sword. Beside him, Y/n hummed in satisfaction and slid her arm through his as if nothing at all had happened. As if he had not spent the last minute imagining several deeply inappropriate ways he could use his sword on that nobleman.
“Oh, Harry,” she said, laughter tucked warm inside her voice, “there you go again, scaring off men needlessly.”
He kept his gaze on the square, posture straight, expression fixed into cool indifference, something he had spent years perfecting around her. “It was not needless.”
Her fingers tightened more snugly around his arm. “You looked ready to kill him.”
“He put his hands on you.”
“That is hardly a crime.”
“It was uninvited.”
That made her smile widen. He didn't need to look at her to know it was there.
She tipped her head, looking up at him. “And here I thought my guard was simply meant to be doing his duty.”
“I was.”
“Mm.” She let the sound linger. “Your duty does not include scaring away every man who speaks to me.”
Harry swallowed, not answering this time, eyes still shifting over the faces of the people in the square. That, more than any defense he could have made, seemed to amuse her.
They began to walk again at an unhurried pace, his stride even with hers. The people who’d been watching went back to their business as Y/n leaned into him just slightly, not enough for anyone else to notice, but just enough that he had no chance of not feeling the warmth of her against his arm.
“Unless,” she said lightly, “I am meant to think you were jealous.”
His face stayed composed. “I am not jealous, Princess.”
She laughed softly, but there was an undercurrent of wickedness lying just beneath. “Liar.”
Harry exhaled through his nose and kept scanning the square, though every instinct he possessed was fixed on the woman at his side. And she knew it just as well as he did. They’d been at this for long enough to know what they were doing.
After a moment, she sighed with exaggerated disappointment. “Well. Whether it was jealousy or simply your usual impossible temperament, I cannot let it go unanswered.”
At that, his shoulders went subtly rigid, and he inhaled a heavier breath, already knowing what she meant.
Her thumb brushed over the sleeve at his forearm, a tiny hidden stroke no one else would notice. “You know what happens now.”
His throat bobbed as he forced a swallow. “Princess,” he said carefully, a warning that never once worked on her.
She only leaned closer, her mouth near enough that he caught the scent of her perfume. “You have been very possessive today, Sir Harry,” she murmured. “And since you insist on behaving so badly, I suppose you shall have to be punished tonight.”
He tensed his jaw, glancing down at her briefly and already imagining the scene in his head, knowing what was coming.
She drew back just enough to look up and meet his eyes. Her expression was full of false innocence and glittering mischief. “Tonight, you’ll stand guard inside my room, facing the door until I tell you otherwise.”
Harry’s cold features remained steady, but inside him, something hot and terrible turned over. They’d done this before. In fact, it had turned into a somewhat frequent punishment, if it could be called that. More like a tease. A forbidden fruit dangled just behind him, not allowed to look at it, or taste, or touch. He would only be allowed to listen and yearn while he stood with his cock hard and throbbing.
Y/n smiled and patted his arm, delighted with herself, and guided him farther into the square as though she had not just ruined him with a single sentence. And Harry, who would have followed her into hell itself if she asked, walked beside her in silence and began, already, imagining what sort of cruelty his princess would conjure up this time.
Harry stood near the center of the princesses’s room as she moved farther in without a word. She drifted through her room leisurely, as though this were any other night and not one carefully arranged to test the limits of his self-command.
Her chambers were as excessive as the princess herself. The ceilings soared overhead, tall windows framed the darkening sky, their long curtains stirred by a soft draft, beeswax candles burned in silver stands, mixing their warm sweetness with her perfume and the powdery lavender tucked into the linens by her maids. At the far end of the room stood her vast, canopied bed. Silk and feathers and secrets… Harry had imagined himself in it before, but he’d never allow himself to break his oath. He knew better than to risk it.
He stood with his hands clasped behind his back and watched her cross to the mirror. She took her time removing her gloves, peeling each finger free with excessive care before laying them on the dressing table. Then came the outer layer of her gown, the decorative sash first, then the jeweled pins at her shoulders. She hadn’t said a single word yet, nor had she looked at him. That was part of the game too. She knew he was watching. Knew his eyes would track every movement but he’d look away the moment she told him to.
Only after she had shrugged the heavier layer from her shoulders did she glance at him through the mirror. Harry’s expression was just as stoic as always, and Y/n smiled.
The lighter fabric beneath clung more closely when she moved, tracing the line of her back and waist before falling loose again. Almost indecent. Almost sheer, but not quite. Just enough to let him know she was thinking very carefully about what she was doing to him.
He hated how willingly he let her tease him this way, but still, he indulged in the sight of her while he had the chance. Because soon he’d be left with the view of the heavy oak doors and the sound of her doing things very unbecoming of a princess.
She crossed to the armoire, the huge carved thing nearly as tall as the posters on her bed, and drew it open. Inside hung silks and velvet and lace in creams and jewel tones, garments fit for a spoiled rich princess. She slid her fingers along them as though considering her choices, though Harry knew it was all just a show.
From one shelf she grabbed a thin folded fabric, then draped it over her arm, and from another she selected something smaller, which disappeared into her hand before he could make out what it was.
She closed the armoire and moved to the low chest of drawers beside it, the one tucked half out of sight near the bed. Harry swallowed as he watched her smile to herself and pull the top drawer open slowly. He knew better than to let his mind linger on what she kept there. He already knew in part that it was filled with things she kept secret. She looked back at him over her shoulder with a smirk that had no business appearing so innocent on her face as she reached inside.
She drew out two small objects and turned them over in her hands, as though they were no more scandalous than a comb or a ribbon. But if anyone had seen what Harry was, they’d be scandalized. They’d avert their eyes in shock that the princess had possession of such sordid things.
“You’re staring,” she said.
“I am observing my surroundings, Princess.”
A soft laugh escaped her. “Of course you are. Obedient. Observant. Possessive…” She turned and looked at him, eyes sharp. “Maybe one day you’ll be brave enough to act on it. To forgo your orders and your oath and give in.”
Harry kept his mouth pressed together as he stood there, heart pounding. If he broke his command, his oath, he’d regret it, but he’d certainly enjoy it while it lasted. His fear was that he’d lose his post with her if he ever gave in to his desires. If he ever gave in to her.
She set one item on the bed and kept the other in hand as she pressed her knee into the soft blankets of her bed. The mattress dipped as the gauze curtains shifted around her. He watched as she climbed in, palms and knees pressed delicately into the down, her eyes on his with the slope of her throat exposed, the bare skin newly revealed where her earlier layers no longer concealed her as thoroughly.
Harry held himself still. Even if she was trying to tempt him, trying to get him to slip up, he would not.
“You were very bold today,” she said, running one fingertip over the bedcover beside her. “Putting your hand on your sword in the middle of the square. All that just for me?”
“He put his hands on you.”
“And you frightened him away for it.”
He blinked, looking at the item in her hand. “That was the intention.”
Her mouth curved. “Jealous, then.”
“No.” The lie came too quickly. They both knew it was lie.
Y/n sat back and smiled. “You do make this easy.”
Harry kept his hands locked behind his back. The picture of focus and rigidity. A man with the strength to resist his desires.
Her eyes flicked over his face, reading everything he would never say aloud. “That is enough.” She smiled playfully. “Take your place, Sir Harry. Face the doors.”
And because she had asked it of him, because she was his princess and his ruin, he obeyed, turning away to remove his gaze from her.
The doors stood tall and immovable before him with elegantly carved panels. A simple thing of wood and iron. Something he could fix his attention on, something that did not move, did not breathe, did not tempt.
Behind him, though, she began, and he took a breath, readying himself for the torture that was to come. He heard her sigh, then heard the whisper of silk sliding behind him, her last layers coming off, leaving her bare. He was already imagining the sweetest and prettiest thing spread out on her silk bed, only feet away, watching his back with a sly grin on her face.
Harry drew in another slow breath through his nose, held it, then released it carefully. An attempt to calm his racing heart and delay the inevitable rise of heat to his groin.
The bed shifted beneath her weight with a low creak, then a breath pushed from her mouth. The sound was soft at first, as if she were settling into the moment, tasting it, readying herself for what she was about to do.
“Comfortable?” she asked sweetly.
“Yes, Princess.”
She hummed. “You don’t sound comfortable.”
“That is irrelevant.”
A breathy laugh drifted across the room. “Mm. Always so proper. So outwardly detached… Yet I wonder what goes on in that head of yours.”
There was another shift of fabric and Harry fixed his gaze harder on the door. To the iron handle. The grain of the wood. A small imperfection near the lower panel where time had worn the polish.
“It would be very easy, you know,” she said after a moment, voice quieter now, closer to something intimate. “To turn around.”
His jaw set. “I will not.”
“No?” There was a gentle lilt in her tone, coaxing. “Not even a little peek?”
“No.”
Behind him, she shifted again. The bed creaked softly in response, followed by a quiet, almost thoughtful exhale.
“I know… But I do wonder,” she mused, “how long it would take.”
Harry closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again, forcing his focus back to the door. “For what, Princess?”
“For you to forget your duty.”
“I will not forget. You have told me to face the door, and that is what I shall do.”
Her voice softened, threading something warmer through the teasing. “You’ve thought about it. Disobeying. Taking a look. Touching…”
Harry inhaled through his nose, chest rising and falling a little harder just as she made a small noise. Pleasure and need, barely a sound, but a breath in, then easing out again.
“You could,” she continued. “No one would know. The door is closed. The other guards are posted outside and they can’t hear. If I told you to turn and watch, would you?”
Harry swallowed. He didn’t know how he survived her teasing, in truth. She drove him mad.
“If you commanded it, then I would do as I was told.”
“Mmm…” she moaned. “But I want to see you break your orders.”
“My duty is not conditional.”
“But,” she said, a hint of laughter slipping through, “you wish you could.”
“I only wish to do as you tell me.”
“Liar. I know you wish you could see this.”
She shifted behind him again. Movement and fabric. A quiet rhythm beginning and then a soft gasp. Harry’s breath grew heavier, and he fixed his eyes on the polish of the wood, steadying himself.
“You are cruel to me, Princess,” he said, voice low.
“Am I?” she replied, pleased.
Another breath left her, slipping free, a little shaky. He realized while she was performing, there was lust in the sound. Whatever she was doing, it felt good for her.
Harry’s fingers curled slightly against his palms, skin heating under his regimental garb.
“You’re listening very closely,” she said lightly.
“I am standing guard.”
“Of course you are.” Her breath shuttered. “Keep listening. Want you to hear it all.”
The rhythm behind him shifted again, just enough to break whatever fragile composure he had managed to reconstruct.
“Harry…” she moaned his name.
He shut his eyes and swallowed. “Yes, Princess.”
She answered with another soft inhale, then his name was breathed into the air again. Her tone was warmer, less playful now. He knew it was only a matter of time before she lost control of the sounds she made at all. Before she was moaning his name like he was the one there in her bed, fucking her and not the phallus-shaped wand she liked to use on herself.
The sounds she made began to settle low in his chest, warmth spreading fast to his stomach and then crawling lower, taking hold of his cock. Never had he been reduced to a panting, leaking mess without being touched before. Only with her. His spoiled princess.
“If you could see this,” she whispered. “Just once, you wouldn’t be able to resist again.”
“No.” His voice came out rougher now.
She made a soft sound. “You are too good, knight. Too obedient.”
The bed creaked again, a little louder this time, followed by a breath that broke unevenly before smoothing out to a soft hiss.
“One day you will lose this fight. It will be so sweet to see you give in.”
Harry exhaled slowly, forcing the tension back into something he could barely contain. He stood facing the door, every muscle locked in place, every sense betraying him, every thought circling the same impossible desire, but still, he obeyed.
The next sound she made wasn’t soft at all. It slipped out of her like something she couldn’t hold any longer, a breath breaking into a needy, open-mouthed moan that echoed off the high ceilings. The shift in tone alone was enough to make Harry’s spine go rigid, his shoulders pulling tighter as if he could physically brace himself against it.
There was no mistaking it now. He could hear that she was fully lost in it. Completely taken by lust and pleasure.
The bed creaked again, more insistently this time, the rhythm no longer tentative. He could practically imagine her hand moving, wrapped around the wand, fucking herself as she stared at his back. Then it was wet, the softest claps of sound came from her bed as she thrust the thing into herself in smooth strokes. Or maybe she was humping it over her pillow, bouncing her little cunt on the wand, legs spread as she lifted and lowered. Both images were equally enticing.
Harry squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw as the unmistakable slick sound reached him, timed with her panting breaths. His mind betrayed him, painting the picture he was forbidden to see… his princess spread open on her silk sheets, fingers glistening, that damned wand tucked deep inside of her.
“Harry…” she breathed again, and this time his name dragged, stretched thin with want. “Can you hear me? Hear the way I get so wet for you.”
“Princess…” He warned, not wanting to play into it too much but still hopelessly wishing he could see it with his own eyes.
“Harry… my big knight… Tell me you hear me.”
“Yes,” he said, though the word felt tight in his throat. He blinked hard as his cock swelled against his trousers.
“Good.” A shaky inhale. “Then listen to it properly.”
Of course he was listening properly. He wouldn’t have been able to ignore any of it even if he tried. Not when it was her behind him, naked, hot, wet, with his name on her tongue.
“I’ve got my fingers on myself—oh! On my clit…” she moaned. “But if it were your fingers...” A soft, breathy laugh followed, almost embarrassed at how easily the words came now. “I know you’d take your time… You’d take such good care of me.”
His hand twitched behind his back, and he huffed through his nose. If he were ever permitted to touch her that way, he would take care of her. He’d explore every part and have her coming over and over again before he even allowed himself the pleasure to come. He’d force orgasm after orgasm from her just so he could see it and hear her begging for mercy, but just as she never seemed to let up with him, he wouldn’t let up either. He’d have her bawling and exhausted by the time he was done with her.
“Your hands are so big,” she went on, almost thoughtfully, though her breathing kept catching. “I’d get your palm all wet... I keep thinking about how you’d fill me too… how you’d stretch me properly. Just your fingers…”
Harry shut his eyes hard again, a quiet, controlled inhale doing nothing to cool the throbbing of his heavy cock. He’d already imagined his hand wet with her many times. He’d see to it that she made a mess… He scolded himself for humoring those thoughts, even if hidden only in his head.
“I would not—”
“You would,” she cut in softly, almost lazily, though her voice trembled. “You just won’t admit it.”
The wet sounds grew louder. Faster.
“And this—” she continued, breath rising, “this little wand…” A faint hum of pleasure vibrated through her words. “It barely does it for me.”
He swallowed. He could imagine her fully. See every crevice, every bend, the soft skin on her hips, the way her belly would quiver the closer she got. Her pretty breasts… He’d never seen her naked, but he knew she would be pretty. He knew she’d bring him to his knees if he ever saw her like that.
“Oh…” she panted, almost sweetly. “It’s hitting deep—” Her voice broke into an unrestrained gasp. “Oh my god, Harry…” A small mewl fell from her as the slushy sound of her cunt wrapped around the wand reached his ears once again. “But you would stuff me so full, wouldn’t you, knight? You’d show me what it really felt like to be with a man…”
His composure cracked just slightly as his head dipped forward a fraction, breath deepening. But this was the way. Sometimes she did it fast, other times she took so much time getting herself off he’d get dizzy from need. He was on the verge right then. Goosebumps scattering over his skin as he checked his urge to pull his cock out and pump himself.
Behind him, the pace picked up. The bed answered with a louder creak, the canopy swaying faintly as it shifted with her movements. Her breathing turned uneven, little gasps breaking through with increasing frequency, each one sharper than the last.
“Oh, yessss…” she said, broken. “My pussy is so wet... For you.”
He clutched his hands tight, resisting his urges, refusing to break.
“Please,” she pressed, voice slipping into something almost delirious. “Oh, my god… It feels so good.”
Harry shifted his weight, subtle but necessary, his stance tightening as the pressure became impossible to ignore. His arms moved from behind his back without thought, settling in front of him, one hand pressing briefly against the front of his trousers before stilling again like he’d burned himself.
Behind him, she laughed softly when she saw it.
“There it is,” she breathed. “You want it. How big has your cock grown?”
“I am maintaining my post,” he said, though his voice had lost its edge of control.
“As you always do,” she whispered, but there was no bite in it anymore. Only heat.
The rhythm on the bed turned frantic, the princess losing all of her composure. Her sounds spilled freely now… moans, gasps, broken little cries of his name threaded through it all. The slick, insistent noise of her movements filled the space between them, wrapping around him, dragging him deeper into something he could no longer pretend he wasn’t part of.
“Harry—” she gasped, louder now, desperate. “Mmm…”
His eyes snapped shut again as he palmed at his cock before clasping his hands into fists and forcing them back to his side.
“I’d let you do anything if you broke your duty,” she rambled on. “You could have me however you like.” Her voice broke into a sharp cry. “Whichever hole you wanted. All of them. Oh… stuff me and fuck me so good I never need this wand again.”
His breath stuttered as his dick twitched. He could feel himself leaking at his tip. His body stiff as a board as the princess fucked herself with a thing that he knew wasn’t giving her the kind of pleasure he could.
“Oh! Ffff… Mmm… M’gonna come… Please…”
The bed knocked lightly against the wall, and she cried out—loud, uncontrolled, her voice echoing.
“Please—please break it—fuck me raw and come inside of me… let me feel it…”
He groaned. She still hadn’t given the proper command for him to do any different, so he wouldn’t. Even if she was begging him to break his duty, he would need her words to say it plainly before he did anything but stare at the door.
“I won’t.”
But now his hand moved back into place over his crotch, pressed harder, grip tightening through the fabric, betraying him completely as he rubbed over himself. His neck strained to keep facing the door, and he let out a quiet, broken gasp of his own.
She was too far gone to care. Her words dissolved into cracked sounds, breath rising and falling frantically as she chased something just out of reach for him to see. The rhythm stammered, then surged, faster, sloppier, the slick sounds turning almost frantic. And the moans coming from her were obscene. Like tiny whimpered noises, hot breaths, soft hisses, whiny panting gasps.
“Harry… Oh, Harry—Yesss! Mmm!”
Then he heard her shatter. A sharp, choked cry tore from her as the bed creaked loudly beneath her, the movement abrupt and uncoordinated as pleasure overtook her completely. He let out a moan just as he heard the canopy rustling, the mattress shifting hard under her as she rode it out, breath coming in ragged, gasping pulls.
He pressed his free palm to the door, head dropped as he worked his thickened cock over his pants the best he could. He wouldn’t come like this, but it gave him relief, nonetheless. It would have to do until he could take a break and finally have his own release.
Harry stood frozen, every muscle locked, except for the hand still pressed tight and smoothing at the front of his trousers. He was so hard he could feel the swollen ridges of his head and down the length of his shaft, even over the fabric. His head bowed just slightly as he fought for control that felt like it was slipping through his fingers.
When her breaths slowed and the slick sounds evaporated as she came down, he bit into his lip and straightened himself back out, hands shaky as he pulled them behind his back, even though his dick was leaking and pulsing with need.
She moaned and then laughed. He heard fabric sliding, heard her breaths, and then her feet hitting the ground. He swallowed, wishing he could just look, but he would not. Not until she told him. Not until she commanded it.
Then he felt her hand on the back of his arm as she came in next to him. “Oh, you poor thing. That must hurt.”
He swallowed, keeping his eyes on the door in front of him. When he didn’t respond, she chuckled and slid in front of him, leaning her back against the door. He still didn’t look, but he could tell she’d put on her robe.
“Stand at ease, Sir Harry. That is your command now. You may look if you wish. You’ve kept your duty well.”
He flitted his eyes down over her. The thin silk robe barely covered much, nor did it hide the swell of her breasts and the peak of her nipples under it. Y/n smiled as soon as she saw where his gaze caught, then lifted a hand and cupped his cheek gently, her palm warm against skin that already felt too hot, too tight, too alive. Her thumb stroked along the sharp line of his cheekbone.
“You are all flushed,” she said, amused and almost sweet. “Warm.” Her mouth quirked up. “I think that was punishment enough, don’t you?”
Harry nodded. It was the safest thing he could do. His throat had gone dry, and he did not trust his own voice not to betray him if he tried to answer properly. Even now, with her robe on and the game apparently done—for now—he could feel his restraint like something physical under his skin, pulled so taut it hurt.
Her eyes glittered when she saw him choose silence over speech.
“Yes,” she said softly, as though confirming something to herself. “That’s what I thought.”
She kept her hand at his face a moment longer, looking him over with that infuriating, intimate attention of hers, as if she enjoyed seeing all the places where discipline failed to conceal what she had done to him. Harry met her gaze because he could do that much, because now she had allowed it, because she stood directly in front of him and he had no command to disobey in looking. But meeting her eyes was scarcely easier than staring at the door had been.
There was too much triumph in her expression. Too much certainty that she knew exactly what lived in him at that moment.
Then she tilted her head and said in a brighter, lighter tone, “One day, I’ll see you losing your control. You cannot keep denying yourself forever, good knight.”
A rough sound left him before he could smooth it away, almost a grunt, almost a laugh. He blinked and managed to speak, “I will never disobey the princess’s command.”
Y/n clicked her tongue at him. “Always the same answer,” she said. “Duty, duty, duty.” Her fingers slipped from his cheek and began a slow path downward, gliding over the front of his garb, tracing the embroidered edge near his collar, then down the center of his chest with no hurry at all. “You hide behind it all so well.”
He could feel her hand through the fabric. The drag of her palm, the press of her fingertips, the warmth of her skin carried through linen and leather and all the useless layers meant for modesty and protection and rank. None of them did a damn thing. Not against her. Even if he appeared unbothered.
She stopped with her hand splayed over his heart, then she hummed, pleased, because of course she felt it. The pounding. The wild, humiliating force of it that he simply could not control. He had faced battle lines with a steadier pulse than this. He had stood bloodied and half-blind in rain and mud with calmer breath than he had now, with her in her silk robe against the door, her hand over his chest, smiling like she had discovered some private little miracle beneath his ribs.
“My,” she said. “The way your heart is pounding...”
He clenched his jaw, eyes dropping to her palm and then sliding back up to look at her face.
She leaned in a touch more, pressing her palm more firmly over his heart as if to test whether it could beat any harder. “It’s almost as though you care,” she said.
“I do care, princess. You know I do.”
Her expression softened, the mischief still there, the delight still there, but touched now by something quieter. Something sweeter now. Then she smiled again and slid her hand from his chest down to the belt at his waist, not enough to be considered a mercy, but enough to make him inhale sharply and set every muscle in his body on edge.
“This is why I keep you,” she said softly.
Harry stared down at her. She was infuriating and beautiful, and he didn’t know which was truly worse. She scraped the nails of two fingers lightly against the center of his belt, then let her hand fall away before his control could splinter further.
“Be grateful,” she said, stepping around him at last. “I am in a merciful mood tonight.”
Harry turned his head to follow her with his eyes. She crossed back toward the bed, thin silk flowing around her legs, one hand gathering the robe closer though she knew perfectly well it hid very little. She glanced over her shoulder and found him still watching.
“Go on,” she said. “Brood. Glower. Stand there and convince yourself this is all beneath your dignity.”
A tiny smile tugged, unwilling, at the corner of his mouth, and she saw it. Her brows lifted.
“There,” she said, delighted. “Proof that you enjoy it. Aside from that big hard-on you’re suffering with.” She glanced down at his crotch.
He gave a slow exhale through his nose. “I apologize, Princess. It is improper, but I am not able to control it when you—”
“When I… what?” she laughed, turning away again. “When I get off and moan your name while you listen? Yes, I know. But it would be awfully disappointing if you didn’t get hard. If you truly didn’t care. That would hurt my feelings.”
This was a game to her, and to him too in many ways. A contest made of duty and temptation, command and obedience, honed every time she smiled at another man just to see Harry intervene, every time she ordered him to stand facing a door while she ruined him by inches from the other side of his discipline. A private war fought in the space between what she commanded and what he ached to do.
One day, one of them would lose.
Either Harry would finally break, turn at the wrong moment, reach for her without permission, let want outrun honor and drag duty down with it… Or she would tire of winning by rule, summon him to her bedside with that same spoiled little smile, and command him not to look away again.
Y/n settled herself against the pillows and reached for a book from the table beside her, as though she had not just spent the evening torturing him for sport. “Come. Read to me.”
He inclined his head and moved toward her. It was not typical for a royal knight to read books as part of his guard duty, but for Harry, nothing about his post with Y/n was typical. But that was part of what made it so fun.
Secretly, he loved reading to her. Liked the way she’d cuddle into her pillow and blink her pretty eyes up at him and smile as he spoke the words on the page in his deep, slow drone. Loved watching her eyelids grow heavy and the way her breath would even out before she fell asleep.
He settled into the cushioned chair next to her bed, and she rolled to her side to face him as he reached for the book. He opened it, flipping to the page where they’d left off from the night before, and cleared his throat.
“Chapter Seven,” he said, as Y/n’s lashes lowered and her smile turned small and satisfied against the pillow, her eyes on him as he began to read.
And even if he’d been left with an unquenchable thirst for the young woman lying in her bed next to where he sat, he felt more than fulfilled just to be there with her at all. To be at her beck and call, to read books to her at night, to listen while she pleased herself in hopes of making him break. He would take whatever closeness and whatever cruelty she gave him and ask for nothing more.
. .
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I'm so glad you couldn't make it a blurb sized fic. Oh she's my absolute favourite! I love their dynamic, how bratty she is, like a proper spoiled brat who gets what they want and has no shame and how easily she rules him up. I really really love her. I also love how harry won't break his oath, won't give in even though he so badly wants to. Ughh he loves her so much he doesn't wanna risk his post by giving in, at least this way he gets to be near her. Poor baby 🥺
But Guru, I won't be me if I didn't ask for another part 🤭 will you please continue this? My head is swimming with all the possibilities for this trope. Who's gonna break first!! Would he give in finally or would she do something more to get him to break!!! Then imagine if she had a prince come over to meet her from a nearby kingdom that her father wants her to marry!!! What would harry do then! I mean they both know it's inevitable but he loves her... that makes a difference surely. Or what if one of her maids says something that indicates she (the maid) has a crush on harry or something like that. Oh I can only imagine how brutal the "punishment" would be when she is the one jealous 👀 or maybe she won't be jealous because she knows she has him by the dick 😏
I'm so sorry I just can't help it. You've ruined me though, it's your fault i can't get enough of your writing. But I know you're super busy, so no pressure if you are planning on a second part and if you're not then also it's fine. This was so so good. Going straight to my favourite list 😌
Oh and no worries about kingrry too, those of us who love him would be waiting patiently for him to return. Take your time babe. I hope you're healthy and well. Don't stress too much about writing. I appreciate you so much. Thank you for everything. Love you! Byeeeeeee 🫶
1st March - Memory by @moonchildstyles (boyfriend harry, reader is the sweetest drunk, fluff, it's unfairly cute)
24th - More, Sir by @maladaptivescorpio (boss harry, assistant reader, smut, these two are so messy I can't get enough of them)
25th - Y/N is a phone sex operator and Harry calls a lot by @jawllines || Baby by @songbirdstyles (husband harry, fluff, smut)
26th - Didn't Get Tickets, Tell Ryan I Said Hi, Regret, LHH text by @harrywavycurly || Impatient by @maladaptivescorpio (dom boyfriend harry, reader is a proper brat, smut, I love it, hopefully there'll be a part 2) || I'm On Fire by @songbirdstyles || The Other Woman by @finelinefae (friends with benefit, toxic relationship, harry is an asshole, heavy angst)
28th - All The Time by @maladaptivescorpio (boyfriend harry, smut, this is filthy hot)
30th - Bestie Niall Text by @harrywavycurly
31st - Knock Twice: St. Patrick's Day (boyfriend harry, brother's bestfriend harry, niall, banter, fluff, smut), ONO Backstage by @harrywavycurly || The Babysitter, Part 2 by @gurugirl (cheater harry, questionable people but hot smut)
I'll probably be miserable for the next two weeks. I can feel it. And I'm already panicking because i know I'm not gonna be on here and I'd miss all the fics posted and I'd feel like I need to catch up fast and then I try to read all at once and end up not reading anything and that'd just make me feel more guilty and I don't know what to do I just feel a certain way and it's not good feeling honestly I don't know what I'm talking about or why but yeah
Sooooo I have intense headache, feeling extremely nauseous and feverish. Because I had to travel today and my body hates it. On top of that my period is in like 2 days so obviously I'm having cramps and back pain and all the other annoying symptoms already. I hate my life so much rn 😭😭😭
1st Feb - Text With FWB Harry, Part 2, Texting with uni bf harry, Texting with older bf harry part 2 by @ladyg1rll || Surprise by @deliriumwriting (boyfriend harry, birthday surprise, smut) || Texting Harry by @zclhes || Never Sleep Again by @watchmegetobsessed (bestfriend harry, fluff, smut, angst with a happy ending)
2nd - Love Me by @ladyg1rll (boyfriend harry, frat harry, fluff, smut, this is actually cute hehe) || Extra Thick Icing by @ijustmissyouraccenths (boyfriend harry, his birthday celebration, really wholesome)
3rd - Mean King Part 10 by @gurugirl (my favourite king and queen are back, i missed them so much, I love them so fucking much) || Birthday Kisses by @musicforastylesrestaurant (birthday blurb with a bit smut)
4th - Flower Crowns by @musicforastylesrestaurant (bodyguard harry, it's really sad y'all) || Yes, Sir, Please, Sir by @maladaptivescorpio (ceo harry, assistant reader, smutty blurbs)
5th - Birthday Sex by @maudie-duan (ex harry, it's all filthy hot smut) || Aster extras: jealous, sleepy by @moonchildstyles
6th - Delicate text extra, HTADACM: The Color Wheel, Disturbing The Peace by @harrywavycurly (neighbour harry, banter, fluff, smut) || aster extra: drunk by @moonchildstyles ||
10th - Text With FWB Harry Part 3 by @ladyg1rll || Texting Older Bf Harry part 10 & part 11, Texting uni harry after a date, Texting bf harry when you're horny by @zclhes || Ruined Silk by @unabashegirl (enemies to lovers, hate sex...kind of, lots of arguments and frustration and back forth, smut, some soft moments at the end) || Different era harry reacting to reader having tummy ache by @watermelonlovershigh || I Bought A Cow by @harrywavycurly (this is so fucking cute i can't)
11th-13th - Y/N has a bookstore and Harry owns the shop next door, Part 2, check-in by @jawllines (tattoo artist harry, this was really sweet)
18th - My Wife by @watchmegetobsessed (husband harry, mob boss harry, lots of delicious tension, smut)
23rd - Bad Boyfriend by @fkingstyles (boyfriend harry, little bit of subrry, bit of angst, I wanna smack him hard) || Delicate: Jealous by @harrywavycurly (I missed them so much, my little muffin and her bestie-sugardaddy-boyfriend)
24th - Can You Hear Me Now? by @maladaptivescorpio (boyfriend harry, jealous reader, kinda dom reader, kinda subby harry, smut, his ex on the phone, love love love this one, it's soooo hot) || Knock Twice: Galentine's Day by @harrywavycurly (brother's bestfriend harry, boyfriend harry, narry banter, fluff, smut)
28th - Y/N and Harry have the meet-ugly of the century by @jawllines (assassin harry, might not be for everyone cause there's some triggering things, otherwise it's very silly goofy sweet)
A/N: so like... this is basically just smut hehe idk i felt the urge to write something filthy and this is what came out of it, also its probably the longest smut i've ever written, 4k of it is just that lol
WORD COUNT: 5.2k
WARNING: sexual content
SUMMARY: What happens when certain feelings and desires mix into a marriage of convenience? Y/N is forced to find out after a jealousy stund she pulls on her husband, who she definitely shouldn't fall for.
MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!
The deafening quiet is nothing new. It’s been suffocating you since the moment you married him and accepted your fate, but tonight it’s deadly as you sit in the backseat of the car.
He is right there next to you, if you reached out to the side you could touch his arm, his broad shoulder, something you’ve been dying to do, but didn’t. Couldn’t.
He is your husband. The one you vowed to love forever, the one you’re tied to the rest of your life. Yet, he feels like he’s a million miles away, completely out of your reach.
And yet, you still crave him.
You had a plan going into this marriage. Do your part, be the pretty wife, the armcandy he can parade around with, keep yourself out of trouble and bring the best out of this impossible situation of being the wife of one of the city’s most feared men and it all worked out at first. The mansion is big enough to not run into each other for days, he was out there, doing everything you didn’t want to know about and you could go your own way, reading in the enormous library room, swimming in the crystal clear pool or gardening in the seemingly never ending backyard that stretches behind the main building. You could practically do anything, had everything you asked for in the blink of an eye and it all went according to your plan at first, but then…
Your real wife duties started and were forced to spend time with Harry and… fell for him.
It’s almost ridiculous to you, going against best judgement and falling for the one man you’re supposed to keep at arm’s length, because he is dangerous, a feared business man and an even more formidable mob boss you’re practically a prisoner to. But the more time you spent with him, attending events, accompanying him to dinners or appearing by his side in his club, you got to see more of him. More of the charming man who actually cares for the people closest to him, who might be considered morally grey, but actually fights for whatever he believes in and what matters to him. A man who is closed off, often labelled as cold and ruthless, but he is actually… someone you easily fell for.
The only man you can never have even if he’s your husband, what an awfully unfortunate situation.
You’ve kept your desires for him at bay. A fire has been burning inside you, but you didn’t let it show, you swallowed everything and anything that tried to bubble out of you, but tonight you just couldn’t control yourself.
You attended some kind of gala tonight, you’ve stopped caring about the events a while ago, you just go and fulfill your duty. Everything was going well, seemingly Harry has been in a light mood, even making jokes, seemingly paying more attention to you. But then when you left his side to go to the restroom you returned to finding him with a tall blonde woman who could easily be a model with her legs for days, full breasts that sat so perky behind the deep cut of her dress and perfect smile she eagerly flashed at your husband.
Jealousy blinded you in a second and you acted before you could even think twice. A guy walked up to you right in time, offering you a flute of champagne and you gladly took it, then let him shamelessly flirt with you to the point where his hand was getting dangerously close to your ass. Your little scene was cut short when Harry showed up with a not too pleased look on his face, practically killing the guy with his eyes as he dragged me away and out of the building, ending the night for us without a word.
“What’s wrong? I can’t have a little fun?” you smugly asked as you walked to the car that was already waiting for you. “It’s not like he could hurt me or something, we had dozens of people around us,” you huffed and Harry’s jaw ticked.
“You know nothing,” he spat and that was it. The conversation was over.
Now as you watch the lights pass by the window of the car you deal with a mixture of feelings and thoughts. He is mad because you put yourself in danger, familiarizing with a random guy on your own. He told you before that being his wife comes hand-in-hand with safety hazards, that you’d become a target and you have to be careful. You always listened to him, up until tonight when the jealousy completely blew your mind and had you acting reckless.
And the worst thing? The cherry on top of your rage? That it’s your jeopardized safety that set him off, not the flirting. Because you want him to want you the same way you feel about him, with the same intensity you’ve been burning for weeks now.
But that’s not happening. You might be husband and wife, but you’ll never be more than just the title.
You turn to look at him, but he is just staring out the window with an unreadable expression, but even now, he looks so…
The car parks in front of the mansion and even though you can tell he is pissed, more than ever, he still rounds the car and opens the door for you, helping you out so you don’t trip in your long dress and high heels. The momentary touch of his palm against your elbow just sparks even more heat inside you and it feels like pure torture.
You walk inside in excruciating silence, the tension feels like it could pop any moment. Once you’re in the spacious hall, you stop by the door while he keeps walking ahead and before you could think twice, you speak up.
“Are you regretting marrying me?”
Harry stops, but doesn’t turn, you watch his broad shoulders stiffen.
“I’m not what you imagined, right? Not the perfect little obedient facade you need as your wife.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” His tone has a warning in it, but it just riles you up even more.
“Maybe you should have married that blondie, I’m sure she’d be a better wife than me.”
“Y/N, stop,” he snaps, finally turning around. “Don’t…” He lifts a finger pointing at you, but then curls his hand into a fist, dropping back to his side. It seems like he is struggling, his usual controlled self is crumbling in front of your eyes.
“Don’t what? Don’t remind you of what you could have if you weren’t tied to me?”
Your throat tightens and eyes water, even though you’re fully dressed, in a sense it feels like you’re standing naked in front of him, speaking your thoughts for the first time you’ve met him, but you can’t keep it down any longer.
He takes a few steps closer, but stops way too far away from you.
“You’re dancing in a dangerous territory, Y/N.”
“Why? Are you gonna hurt me?” Now you’re just provoking him, you’re curious to see a side of him you haven’t, one that loses control, one that’s real and raw and unseen by anyone before.
He huffs, it almost sounds like a laugh, but his face doesn’t match it. He shakes his head and turns around with the intention of walking away, but you’re not ready to end whatever this is just yet.
“Must be hard, finding someone when you have a wife,” you push some more, wanting to get a rise of him, but what you get is far more.
He whips around and closes the distance between the two of you with just about two long strides. One hand comes to grip your upper arm, it’s firm but not painful and his face is so close, your noses almost brush together. Your breath hitches at the sudden closeness and the fire you see in his eyes.
“What’s hard is watching another man lay a hand on you and make you laugh when I want to be the only one you ever even think about.”
With eyes shot wide, you stare back at him, lips parted in complete disbelief. Did you hear him right or did you just imagine it? You can’t tell for sure, the rapid beating of your heart making you dizzy, or maybe it’s his words that have you going insane.
His hand lets go of you and he takes a step back, like he is sobering up, realising what he said. He takes a deep breath shaking his head as he slowly turns away once again.
“Stop putting yourself in danger,” he then says, quietly, reserved, like he is closing back again.
“I won’t stop,” you answer, still frozen in your spot. Harry stops, but doesn’t face you, so you continue: “I won’t stop if this is the reaction I get from you.”
He glances at you over his shoulder, as if making sure you meant what you said and you try your best to hold his gaze.
“I didn’t do it to risk my safety,” you admit. “I did it out of jealousy. I saw you with that tall, blonde woman and… I got jealous.”
Slowly, he turns around and starts walking back, stopping right in front of you, his face is still unreadable, but something has changed in his expression. His eyes slide down your body, down to the tip of your toes then back up, they stop on your lips, linger for a heartbeat before returning to your gaze and you read his look clearly for the first time.
Do you mean it? Do you actually mean it? His eyes ask and you tip your chin up as your answer.
I do.
He exhales deeply and takes a step back. Panic settles in you that he is about to ignore it, ignore you and you’re on the verge of begging, but then he speaks up.
“Go to your bedroom, take your shoes off and wait for me.”
His voice is even, controlled, but you see the fire in his eyes. With a small nod you do as he told you. You’re panting by the time you step into your bedroom, chest heaving from the desire that’s burning through your veins, eager to find out what’s about to happen. Kicking your heels off you stand by the end of your bed, back straight, hands by your side, obediently waiting for him. When you hear his steps approaching your room you swallow and stare at the door that gently opens.
He walks in, he has gotten rid of his own dress shoes, padding across the room barefoot, his suit jacket is also gone, the sleeves of his crispy white shirt now rolled up. He looks delicious, you’ve been thinking about running your hands through his hair all evening and the way his tattoos peek out from under the white fabric is just making you insane.
Harry stops right in front of you and you feel a pull towards him, your body is aching to be touched by him, but you stay still. He runs his gaze down your body again and you catch his tongue wetting his lips before he looks you in the eyes.
He takes another step, this time he is so close his front presses against yours and your lips part with a sigh when he reaches up and cups your cheek in one hand. He tilts his head to the side, like he is curiously examining your reaction to his touch, runs his thumb across your lower lip and then pushes it slightly into your mouth, surprising you for a second, but you’re quick to recover, closing your lips around it and sucking it gently while looking him in the eyes.
He grunts and it’s the sexiest thing you’ve heard from him, he pulls his thumb out of your mouth and you almost protest, but then he kisses you and you have nothing to complain about.
It’s rough and demanding, there’s nothing exploratory about it, it doesn’t feel like a first time, you move so perfectly together like you were made for this, for each other. His hand moves down to your jaw, angling your head so he has perfect access to you and his other hand slides to your waist, pulling you tight against him, though you’re eager to get closer as well, get under his skin if possible.
“Fuck,” he breathes against your mouth before pulling back just enough so he can look at you. His gaze rakes over your features that radiate desire right now. “You have no idea how badly I want you.”
“Take me,” you reply, probably a tad bit too fast, but you can’t control yourself any longer. “I’m yours,” you add, out of breath and desperate for practically anything he is willing to give you.
He exhales sharply, his fingers digging deeper into your waist at your words before his hands fall from you and he steps back. Once again, panic bursts through your veins that he is about to end it, but you’re quick to learn that he has other plans.
“Take your dress off.” His voice is low and demanding, but his face doesn’t twitch, he doesn’t even blink and he’s oozing power that has you weak in the knees.
Keeping eye-contact you pull the straps of your dress off your shoulders, the soft fabric bunches around your waist, leaving your upper body fully naked. The back of the dress has such a low cut you couldn’t wear a bra underneath. You don’t have to look down to know your nipples are pebbled and you could lie to yourself and say that it’s because of the cold, but it’s obviously because of Harry’s hungry look he is eyeing your chest with.
You push the dress past your hips and it pools around your feet so now you’re standing in front of him in nothing but a black lace thong. His jaw ticks several times as he takes you in, like you’re a masterpiece that deserves to be admired and you swear you can feel the burning of his gaze as it travels up and down your body over and over again. Arousal starts pooling between your legs and he hasn’t even touched you.
“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve fantasized about you like this?”
A shiver runs down your spine at his words and you’re aching to finally be touched by him, but he is still just standing there, watching you. You wet your lips and draw a deep breath.
“I asked you a question, Y/N,” he says, dominance dripping from his tone. “Do you have any idea?”
“No,” you breathe out, voice almost trembling.
“Every fucking day since I laid my eyes on you. Every fucking hour even when you’re not around. I think about you. I think about your eyes, your lips, your curves, I think about fucking you on every possible surface of this house and I think about…”
His voice dies, like he is struggling to speak his mind which is a surprising switch up after the confidence he just demonstrated. He swallows and squares his shoulders.
Harry steps closer, one hand working on the fly of his pants and then he reaches in, palming himself through his underwear, while he takes your chin between his thumb and index finger, tilting your head up a bit. He brushes his knuckles against the side of your face, down your neck and collarbone, over your breast and nipple, his touch is so soft, so feather-like, it’s playing with your senses. Then slowly, like he has all the time in the world, he cups your breast, your hard nipple pushing against his warm palm as he squeezes you. He leans in, lips brushing against yours, but he doesn’t kiss you.
“Get on your knees,” he orders and he is back to his controlled self.
You drop down to your knees so fast, the rug harshly rubs against your knees. You keep your eyes on him and as he finishes undoing his pants you almost whimper from the passion that’s burning inside you.
“Look at you, so pretty, so hungry for me,” he murmurs, brushing your hair out of your face, then he uses both his hands to push his pants and underwear down, taking his cock out. He gives himself a few lazy strokes while you gasp seeing how big and hard he is. The urge to touch him is growing impossible to resist, but something is telling you that you have to wait for him to give you permission, so you keep yourself still.
“Do you want to be good for me?” he asks, still stroking himself, but not touching you.
“Yes,” you nod eagerly.
“I can do what I want with you?” He tilts his head to the side, watching you curiously.
“Anything.”
“Good,” he hums, satisfied. “Then I’m going to fuck your mouth first and then I’m going to fuck your pussy so hard you’ll never want to be fucked by anyone else. How does that sound, Y/N?”
“Yes please!” It comes out more like a whine, you know if you saw yourself you might find your enthusiasm ridiculous, but you couldn’t care less. You want him. You need him.
“Such a good wife,” he grins, one hand coming to cradle the back of your head, the other one still holding his cock. “C’mere, let me fill that pretty mouth of yours.”
You finally let yourself touch him, hands coming up to his thighs to help yourself holding up as he guides your head forward, lips opening and welcoming his head.
He groans in satisfaction as you suck on it, tasting him, twirling your tongue around it before moving further, taking more of him.
“Fuck, Y/N, you’re so…” His head falls back with a moan when his tip touches the back of your throat. His hand is still on your head, slightly pushing on it, but you don’t need much encouragement, you’re ready to take and give everything he is offering.
You start bobbing your head, back and forth, ignoring how your jaw starts hurting quite fast, one hand on his thigh, the other one moving on its own, sliding up his stomach under his shirt, looking for more contact with his heated skin. You feel his muscles move under your palm as he starts thrusting forward, meeting your movements
“Yes, baby, you’re taking me so well,” he breathes out, his free hand grabbing yours on his torso, giving it a squeeze before he grabs your head with both his hands. You squirm from his words, especially from being called baby, your walls desperately contracting around nothing, but you’re convinced you could come just from his reactions.
“I’m going to fuck your mouth now and you’ll take it,” he says and then starts using more of his power, moving your head faster while his thrusts go deeper.
Your eyes start watering and your gag reflex starts, but you don’t want him to stop, not even when your saliva is dripping past your lips and down your chin. Both your hands are on his hips now to help keep yourself up, your knees are burning, but you ignore the pain. After a particularly deep thrust Harry curses under his breath and pulls back, his cock sliding out of your mouth. You gasp for air, but don’t have much time to recover, he pulls you back up to your feet and kisses you hard and messy. He doesn’t care that you had his cock in your mouth just seconds ago or that your lips are smeared with a mixture of your saliva and his precum, he kisses you just as passionately as the first time.
His self-control snaps now, his hands are all over you, palming your breasts, playing with your nipples, gripping your hips and ass as he blindly walks you back until your legs meet the end of the bed. He pushes you down so you sit on the mattress and watch him get rid of his shirt, pants and underwear, your hands fisting the sheets underneath you.
“Climb back,” he nods, leisurely holding his cock in his hand, his length still drenched in your saliva. You do as he said, sliding further up the bed, eyes fixated on him. “Open your legs.”
Parting your knees wide you lean back onto your elbows. His gaze draws down to your pussy that’s still covered in the last piece of clothing you’re wearing. Slowly, he climbs onto the bed, like a predator and you’re the prey he intends feasting on tonight. He plants his hands on either side of your hips and lowers himself, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your stomach, moving lower until he is kissing your cunt through the lace.
“Gotta have a taste first,” he murmurs against the fabric before biting you, taking the lace between his teeth and tugging on it and then he finishes the job with his hands, practically ripping it off you, throwing it behind him.
At first he runs his thumb between your folds, your arousal coating it generously and he looks you in the eyes as he sucks it clean, making you whimper.
“Mhm, you taste like you’re mine. My beautiful wife.”
You breathe out his name as his mouth finally makes contact with your pussy, sucking on your clit just a tad bit harder than you were expecting, but it’s bringing you some blissful pain. Out of instinct, your hands grab onto his hair, but then you hesitantly pull back as if you just did something wrong. Harry however reaches up, grabs your wrist and pulls your hand back, urging you to continue.
“Pull on my hair as much as you want, I’m yours as well, Y/N. Have been since our wedding.”
You can’t help but whimper at his words, grabbing a fistful of his hair as he keeps eating you out like a starved man. It’s mindblowing how well he knows what you want and need, as if he could read your thoughts.
You’re on the verge of your orgasm when he pulls back, a protesting moan slipping past your lips as he climbs up your body.
“I need you to come on my cock for the first time, baby. I promise you can come on my tongue later as many times as you want,” he tells you with a wicked grin before kissing you, the taste of you still thick on his lips.
You slow down, just for a little bit, sloppily kissing and rolling around in bed, but then the urgency and passion spikes again quite fast once he starts moving his hips, his cock teasing you right where you need him the most.
You roll around until you’re on your back again and he is on top of you. He holds himself up, staring down at you with an expression that comes off as full of… awe. Like he can’t believe what’s happening and you want to tell him you feel the same way, that it’s everything you’ve been thinking about since the day you met him, but forming coherent words is just not possible for you right now. Instead, you grab him by the neck and pull him down for another long kiss.
When the need for him grows unbearable you break your lips apart and wiggle to the side, reaching into the drawer of the nightstand, grabbing a condom you’re thankful to have, it would be devastating to stop now.
“Put it on,” he softly tells you, holding himself up above you, watching you open the wrapper and roll it on his cock that feels rock hard by now. He drops his forehead against yours, taking a deep breath. “I’m gonna fuck you like this is my only chance fucking you.”
You open your mouth to tell him it’s not, that it cannot be the only time, but he shakes his head with an airy laugh.
“I know it’s not my only chance, I can’t accept never fucking you again, but I’ll pretend for a bit.”
Biting your lower lip you nod, hands wandering his sides and then plastering to his back as he reaches between your bodies, takes the base of his cock and lines him up at your entrance.
“Look at me,” he orders when the tip enters you, pulling a gasp from you. Your gazes meet and he burns a hole into you with his eyes as he pushes into you, fully, rolling his hips a bit as if he is trying to wedge even deeper. He is stretching you, filling you up fully, like he was made to be inside you.
You get only a few moments to adjust before he starts moving and he draws be entirely every time only to slam into you to the hilt over and over again, knocking the air out of you with each thrust. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and he shows you no mercy as you claw at his back, he pulls your legs up, making him more room between your thighs. It’s all so consuming, the weight of him, the force of his thrusts, the sound of his pants and grunts in your ear, the way your front presses against him when you arch your back, skin melting together.
Suddenly his arms curl around you, he flips the two of you over without ever sliding out of you and in a heartbeat you’re sitting on top of him, his cock reaching yet another angle inside you. Planting your hands on his chest you start riding him without hesitation, rolling your lips, moving up and down, back and forth. Harry’s fingers dig into your thighs and he starts thrusting upwards, meeting your movements, but it feels so heavenly you sometimes forget to move as bliss takes over you.
He sits up, mouth covering your nipple, nibbling on it, twirling it with his tongue as you try your best to keep moving your hips, but it’s such a sensory overload, you’re not that good at it. As if he could sense it too, he flips you back onto the mattress and pulls out of you, the empty feeling making you cry out in discomfort immediately.
“Roll onto your stomach, baby,” he says, squeezing your hips.
He moves back just enough to give you room and you obediently roll onto your stomach. The mattress dips under his knees as he comes kneeling above you, one of his hands sliding slowly down your spine. He lowers himself and you gasp when you feel his cock wedge between your asscheeks, teasingly moving some.
“So fucking pretty. My wife spread out for me.” It feels like he is talking to himself, not you, like he needs to say it out loud to believe it.
“Just for you,” you say, glancing at him over your shoulder, earning another grunt from him as he leans forward, biting the shell of your ear as he moves his cock from your ass to between your slick folds. With ease, he slips right back inside you, but he doesn’t move. Desperate for more, you try to wiggle against him, but he pins you to the mattress with his hips.
“Tell me, who is fucking you this good?” he asks, his nose brushing against your ear.
“You,” comes your answer as a whine.
“Mm. But who am I?” He is still unmoving, driving you crazy with filling you up but not giving you more.
“My husband!” you moan, face twisting from the unbearable need. “My husband is fucking me so good!”
He exhales sharply and finally starts moving, fast and hard, his hips smack against your ass with each thrust. You’re seeing stars, breathing is getting harder, but the pain is so fucking good, so delicious. One of his hands grabs you by the hair, rough and almost animalistic, he tugs on it so your neck cranes, scalp burning, but it’s just so. Fucking. Good.
He leans down and kisses you, though it ends up a little all over the place since he is moving relentlessly, your throat is twisted in an unnatural angle, but you’d break your neck if it meant he’d keep fucking you into oblivion.
With one hand he spreads your legs more and pulls your hips up a little to give him better access to your throbbing pussy. His tip hits the right spot and the build-up of your climax fastens.
“Harry!” you gasp, face twisting from everything you’re feeling at once, his cock hitting you so deep over and over again, your nearing orgasm, the thought of Harry being the one to give all of this to you.
“Come on, let me feel you come for me,” he urges, quickening his thrusts, even though you didn’t think that’s possible. He is hammering you into the mattress and out of this world.
“Fuck, I–I can’t–Harry…”
His name is a plea and in a way it tips you over the edge. Your orgasm bursts between your legs and spreads across your body in waves, you twist and wiggle underneath him, gasping for air or repeating his name over and over again. You’re riding out the last waves when his climax takes over him.
His thrusts fall out of rhythm, he weighs down on you more and After each thrusts he stays inside you a little longer, right until he stops moving.
You’re a mess. Sweaty, out of breath, tired, but you haven’t felt this good in probably… forever. Several minutes pass before Harry rolls off you, lying on his back, chest still rising and falling heavier than usually, eyes closed. You tuck your arms under your head and turn it to the side, watching his profile.
His eyes flutter open and he turns towards you. His face is so much softer now, the dominance and tension is gone, the smile that tugs on his lips feels so warm and loving, it almost makes you dizzy.
He rolls to his side, gently tangling his fingers in your hair as he kisses your forehead and when you lift your head he presses his lips against yours.
It’s slow, tender and so sweet, opposite of the way he just fucked you, but it’s such a delicious mix.
“What now?” you ask against his lips.
“Now… we take a shower and I feed you and preferably do another round.”
“You know what I meant,” you smile at him sheepishly.
“We’re married,” he states. “And we are obviously open to fully conquering this marriage.” He looks at me with questioning eyes and you nod. “We can… do whatever we want.”
“I want you.” It comes out before you could stop the words, but it’s the truth. You want him, all of him, even if you probably shouldn’t.
A faint smile plays on his lips.
“And I want you. That’s a good start, if you ask me.”
You can’t help but laugh and he grins as well before stealing another kiss. “Come on, I want to fuck you in the shower too,” he announces sitting up and climbing out of the bed like he didn’t just fuck your brain out minutes ago. You sit up and look at him as he stands by the bed in all of his naked glory, his cock already hardening again and just one thing keeps echoing in your mind.
That’s your husband.
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I forgot to reblog this? I read this ages ago and i loved it. This trope is one my my faves so i absolutely devoured it. But I have to say now I'm more interested in how they got married and their dynamic before this, like how did they meet and when did they decide to get married and what were the rules and idk agreements for them to get married and what made her want to be with him even after knowing how closed off he is. I wanna know their beginning. Everything up until this night. It got me so intrigued.
CW: Banter, language, smut, mentions of drinking/being a tiny bit buzzed, Harry is dramatic and obsessed with you and you feel the exact same about him.
Word Count: 7.4K
A/N: I got an ask about these two having fun and chaotic drunk sex and this is where my mind took it so enjoy! Sorry this was meant to be posted on Valentine’s Day but I was hit with migraines all weekend but hope y’all enjoy!!✨
Summary: You go out for a girl’s night and Harry doesn’t exactly know what to expect from you when you get home later in the evening💕
“Galentine’s Day? That—that’s not even a real holiday.” Harry says with a huff as he sits on the edge of the bed while you walk around the bedroom in your short pink silk robe he bought you as a little early Valentine’s Day surprise to go with some fancy bath things he has no clue what they do except make the bathroom smell good, and on the rare occasions you let him join you in one of your baths he does usually leave the tub with his skin feeling extremely soft.
“I know the man who celebrates national pancake day every single year isn’t talking to me about real holidays.” You argue as you send him a glare over your shoulder as you stand in front of your jewelry box that you keep on top of the dresser you and Harry share.
“Baby it’s national pancake day—everyone celebrates it.” He informs you as he stands up so he can walk the short distance over to you. “Do you really have to go? I mean you just saw Amelia the other day.” Harry’s voice is low with a gentle pleading undertone as he places his hands on your hips and leans down so he can nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck.
“Yes I really have to go.” You answer as you slip on a few rings, Harry’s lips curve upward just a bit when he watches you slide his ring with the red garnet stone onto your index finger. “I might’ve just seen Amelia but that was for a quick little lunch and besides I see you everyday so that has nothing to do with it—I haven’t had an actual girl’s night out in months.” You tell him as he lifts his head after places a quick kiss to the side of your neck so you can turn around in his hold, you bring a hand up to cup the side of his face as his hands slide to your lower back. “Don’t I deserve to have a little fun?” You ask him in your best pouty voice that for reasons unknown has always drove Harry a little mad.
“Of course you deserve to have fun but-” Harry’s hands slide further down until he’s grabbing at the meaty flesh of your ass. “Wouldn’t you have even more fun if you stayed home with me?” You roll your eyes at his attempts to use his firm grip on your backside to pull you in closer making you just place your hands flat on his chest that’s covered by an old Rolling Stones t shirt.
“I don’t know honestly because last night I stayed home and you-”
“Baby you can’t bring up last night you—you know how I get when you let me watch you shower so I just—I couldn’t help it the moment you touched me I was done for.”
“I didn’t even touch you Harry all I did was give you a kiss and you-”
“I know what I did we don’t have to talk about it.”
“I just don’t understand how watching me wash my hair and shave my legs got you so wound up that you made a mess all over yourself from one little kiss.” Harry lets out a sigh as he rests his forehead on your shoulder, his hands still firmly gripping your ass while you run a hand through the back of his hair in a soothing motion.
“Because I’m—I’m fucking obsessed with you okay? Watching you do literally anything gets me turned on. I can’t help it.” He admits with a frustrated huff as he lifts his head and locks eyes with you, his confession brings a smile to your face as his hands give your backside one last squeeze before he slides them back up to your hips. “I just love you.” He says with an intense look in his eyes that matches the intensity of his previous statement because when it comes to you every emotion Harry feels is on another level and that includes both his love and need for you.
“I love you too.” The visible relief that washes over Harry as you tell him you love him has you letting out a little dreamy sigh as you grab his face in your hands and pull him down for a kiss. “You’re so cute.” Harry chuckles as you place kisses all over his face, his slight stubble tickling your chin as you pull away. “Now you better go hang out in the living room while I get dressed—don’t want you getting all riled up watching me put my dress on.” Harry playfully sticks his tongue out at your teasing to which you quickly tap it with the tip of your own making him let out a groan as he takes a step backwards.
“For someone who says they love me you’re so mean to me sometimes.” You laugh as he turns and takes a few steps towards the bedroom door.
“You love it when I’m mean to you.” Harry gives you a warning look over his shoulder as you begin to untie the belt of your robe, you give him a little wink before stepping into the walk in closet but before Harry can fully exit the bedroom he sees your pink robe fly through the air and land on the bed in a rumbled pile and it has his mind going into overdrive knowing you’re more than likely just standing in the closet with nothing but a bra and a skimpy pair of panties on. “I can feel you still standing there you weirdo—go into the living room.”
“S—sorry I’m going n—now.” He stutters worried you’re going to walk out of the closet half dressed just to glare at him with your hands on your hips and he knows if you do that all bets are off on him being able to control himself and you’d end up making him call Niall to tell Amelia girl’s night is canceled and he just really doesn’t think he wants to deal with an angry Horan this evening, especially Niall.
“She’s really gonna be the death of me.” He mumbles to himself with a chuckle as he turns and makes sure to grab the doorknob so he can close the bedroom door as he steps into the hallway.
“You are so full of shit mate.” Niall says with a laugh as he gets comfortable on the sofa in the living room, having arrived with Amelia and Julian just a few minutes after Harry was kicked out of the bedroom. “You love good trash telly just admit it.” Harry sends his friend a glare from across the room as he sits down in the loveseat with a glass of wine in his hand.
“If you’re calling it good then how can it be trash?” Julian asks with a quirked brow as he looks over at Niall who is sitting on the opposite end of the sofa from him, Harry lets out a chuckle at the long haired man’s question making Niall roll his eyes.
“It’s trash telly that keeps you entertained by doin’ dumb shit just for dramatics like—like all them reality dating shows those are trash because that’s a shit way to find love but it’s also good because it’s entertaining—do ya get it? Does that make sense?” Julian purses his lips and narrows his eyes as Niall gives it his best shot at explaining how he thinks reality television is both good and bad.
“So being entertained is good but the way you’re being entertained is what makes it trash?” Niall nods his head as he reaches over to the side table for his beer.
“Exactly! Knew you weren’t all beauty—got a lil’ bit of brains to ya too.” Julian flips Niall the bird making him laugh as he brings the bottle up to his lips to take a long swig. “But back to the original argument,” Harry places his wine glass down on the coffee table as Niall tips his beer bottle in his direction. “Harry here loves them real housewives don’t ya H?”
“They are entertaining—bunch of odd rich women doing odd rich women things.” He says with a shrug as he runs a hand through his hair, his eyes glancing towards the hallway the bedroom is on knowing any minute now you’ll be walking into the living room all dressed and ready to leave him for the evening forcing him to be stuck with the two men sharing his sofa.
“Oh which franchise is your favorite?” Julian asks making Niall look over at him in confusion while Harry is still eyeing the hallway. “I like Atlanta—they have the best fights.” He adds causing Niall to almost look disappointed in his friend for admitting he watches such horrible television.
“Uh yeah that’s—that’s a good one I uhm—we watch Beverly Hills quite a bit.” Harry says distracted by the faint sound of your laughter coming from down the hall.
“Ohh yeah Beverly Hills is good I like Kyle she’s-” Julian stops mid sentence as you and Amelia walk into the living room laughing about something, Harry immediately shoots up from his seat and turns towards the two of you while Niall stands up with his beer still in his hand and a very confused look on his face as he eyes your outfit choice.
“Uh where the bloody fuck you think yer goin dressed like that?” You look over at him as Amelia rolls her eyes and goes to grab her jacket off the hook near the front door.
“I’m going out.” Is all you say, Harry’s eyes are glued to your hands as you smooth out the red silky fabric of the dress that ends a little above the middle of your thigh.
“Baby you can’t wear that—that dress is way too short.” Niall and Julian both snap their heads in Harry’s direction as the words roll off his tongue and he knows the moment your eyes narrow and your hand falls to your hip as you tilt your head at him that he’s made a mistake. “I mean uhm it’s a beautiful dress sweetheart it’s-”
“You don’t get to tell my sister how she should dress you twat.” Niall’s harsh words cut off Harry’s panicked rambling as Niall walks over to stand next to you while Julian decides to stay seated, not wanting to get in the middle of a Horan and Styles showdown unless he absolutely has to.
“Oh right says the man who just asked her where she was going dressed like that?” Harry snaps as he crosses his arms over his chest and glares at his bestfriend.
“She’s my little sister—S’my job to be all over protective and tell her she can’t wear anything other than turtlenecks and jeans you wanker.”
“Well she’s my girlfriend so I’m allowed to be concerned about the length of her dress you wonky kneed prick.”
“Okay well actually Harry—” you look over at Julian as he runs a hand through his long hair as he lets out a sigh while Harry just stares at him waiting to hear what he has to say. “It makes you sound a little controlling when you tell her what she can and can’t wear—besides she looks great.”
“Thank you Julian.” You tell him with a smile that he gladly returns with a thumbs up while Harry just lets out a scoff as he turns his attention back to you and Niall.
“Baby you know I don’t care what you wear it’s just— I won’t be there to fight off all the assholes who try to hit on you.” Niall rolls his eyes as Harry takes a small step towards you while you refuse to look him in the eyes because you know the moment you do it’s game over for you.
“You are such a knob I don’t know what she sees in you.” Niall mumbles as he turns to go find his own girlfriend who has wandered off to the kitchen to grab some water, having decided not to intervene in this little squabble because you are more than cable of handling it yourself.
“I really like this dress.” Harry reaches his hands out for you as your voice goes soft and your eyes drop to the floor. “I feel pretty in it.”
“That’s because you are pretty.” You poke out your bottom lip as one of Harry’s hands finds your waist while he tucks his thumb under your chin so he can gently tilt your head up so you’re looking him in his eyes. “It has nothing to do with the dress.” He adds smoothly making your mouth curl upwards into a small smile as your hands rest on his chest. “I’m sorry baby you know I just—I hate the thought of other people seeing you look so good and thinking they stand a chance with you.”
“You’d never last a day in my shoes Harry because I have to deal with the whole block getting an eyeful of your thighs and abs when you go for your little runs in those slutty shorts of yours." Harry lets out a laugh as he nods in agreement, he wouldn't know what to do with himself if he had to watch all the neighbors stare at you while you were simply out enjoying a run.
"I know I wouldn't—that's just another reason on the ever growing list of why you're so much better than me." He tells you with a grin that has you almost forgetting what it is you're supposed to be upset with him about. "You don't think I'm controlling do you love? I promise I never mean to come off-"
"No you aren't controlling—you know I'd kick your ass the moment you tried to actually tell me what to do or how to dress." This has Harry letting out a deep sigh of relief as he moves his hand so it's cupping the side of your face. "Now tell me how beautiful I look so I can leave." You tell him in the slightly demanding tone that you know he can't resist, Harry smiles as he leans in a presses his lips to yours in a sweet kiss that has you grinning when he pulls away but only enough so he can bump the tip of his nose with yours.
"You look absolutely stunning baby—wont be buying yourself a single drink while you're out tonight you look so good." The little laugh his compliment brings out of you is cut short by him pressing his lips against yours in kiss that you know he meant to be quick and sweet but your hands grab at his shirt and pull him closer so you can slip your tongue into his mouth making him hold back a groan.
"Not to be like a buzzkill but uhm I'm—I'm still here." You pull away from Harry with a laugh as Julian's quiet voice hits your ears making Harry's cheeks get hot as he runs a hand through his hair trying his hardest to calm down a bit before turning to face his friend who is still sitting on the sofa.
"Sorry Julian—" You tell him with a sympathetic smile as you look around Harry so you can see him better. "Now you boys have fun but not too much fun okay?" Harry just nods as he watches you head for the front door.
"M'more worried bout you two havin too much fun without us." Niall says as he walks out of the kitchen and into the entryway of the house behind Amelia who is finishing off her bottle of water.
"You should be worried Niall because Amelia and I know how to party." You tease making Niall roll his eyes as Amelia hands him her now empty bottle of water.
"I'll text you when I'm on my way home." Amelia says sweetly as she turns to place a kiss to Niall's cheek, Harry stands there with his eyes on you as you slip on your coat and grab your purse.
"Love you! See you later!" You shout over your shoulder as you open the front door.
"Love you too." Harry looks over at Niall who happens to shout the same thing back at you at the same time he does making Amelia laugh as she follows you out the door.
"She was talking to me you knobhead." Harry rolls his eyes as Amelia closes the door behind her while Niall glares at his bestfriend.
"Excuse me? She was talking to me—her boyfriend you looney toon." Harry argues making Niall just roll his eyes as he walks past him and back into the living room.
"I think she was saying it to all of us." Julian says trying to be the voice of reason between the two men who love to pick fights over the oddest things. Harry lets out a huff of annoyance as he takes his spot back on the loveseat, grabbing his wine off the coffee table in the process.
"God m'gonna need a stronger drink if m'gonna survive the night with you two fuckin weirdos."
Harry is lying in bed in nothing but a pair of sweatpants with his reading glasses on and the book you gave him about the mysteries of the modern world that he’s nearly halfway done with in his hands when he hears the front door unlock. He glances over at the clock on his nightstand and lets out a small chuckle at it only being a little after midnight, having said goodbye to both Niall and Julian roughly two hours ago when Niall got a text from Amelia saying she was headed home while you sent him a text saying one of your collage friends had shown up and you were going to stay out a little longer. As the sound of the front door shutting floats down the hallway Harry sits up and places his book on the nightstand and readies himself for whatever state you might be in.
He tosses his legs over the side of the bed so he can stand up when he hears the faint sound of a hiss followed by a muffled curse word of some sort after a small thumping noise that he can only assume was from your running into something on your way towards the hallway. When he rounds the end of the bed he hears the unmissable sound of your laughter and it has his quirking a brow as he runs a hand through his hair, and just as he makes his way to the doorway of the bedroom he stops in his tracks when you appear right in front of him letting his eyes give you a once over. Your eyes are a little glassy looking with a slight redness to them while your hair in only a bit disheveled and to Harry’s surprise your dress is only a little wrinkled and has no droplets from spilled drinks anywhere on it, and your face has a grin spreading across it as you stare at him.
“Oh my god.” Your smile somehow gets wider as your hands reach out and grab Harry’s cheeks. “You have your glasses on—you’re so sexy when you read books and—stuff.” He lets out a laugh as you give his face a squeeze as his hands grab onto your waist.
“How was your night love? Did you have fun?” He asks as leans in and places a kiss to your forehead making you giggle.
“S—so much fun.” You answer with a sigh as your hands slide down to the tops of Harry’s shoulders. “Guess what I did—s’gonna blow your mind.” Harry holds back a laugh as he kneels down so he can start to unbuckle the straps of your heels, you smile down at him when he looks up at you with a quirked brow.
“What’d you do baby? Dance on a few tables? Break a couple hearts?” He watches you try to roll your eyes but in your fuzzy minded state all you really do is blink a few times in his direction, he taps your right ankle making you lift your foot just enough for him to slip the shoe off your foot and toss it to the side.
“No I don’t dance on tables—anymore.” You remind him making him smile as he leans his head down to place a little kiss to your knee before moving on to your left foot. “I—I know you have that silly rule bout no fucking while I’m drunk or—whatever so an hour ago I drank four glasses of water.” Harry rubs his lips together to hold back the laugh that wants to bubble up and out of him when you make a face of disgust at the mention of water.
“Did you really? Four whole glasses?” He asks you with a surprised tone to his voice as you lift up your left foot so he can remove your shoe with a kiss to your knee, you just give him a small nod as he looks up at you after tossing your shoe into the pile with the other one.
“Yup four whole glasses of water—no lemon or anything just four glasses of raw water.” You explain as you slide a hand into his hair while your other one reaches down and gently pull his reading glasses off his face, he just watches with an amused smile as you playfully slip them on.
“Wow baby I can’t believe you drank four glasses of raw water.” Your grip in his hair tightens just a bit as his emerald eyes drift away from your face and down the front of your dress, his hands feel the soft silky material as they grab at your hips.
“I also ate some bread or well—some crackers from my purse so m’not—not drunk.” You inform him proudly as his hands slide to your backside letting him gently give your ass a squeeze.
“And why’d you’d do all that love?” He asks as your hand goes from his hair down to the side of his face while his hands start sliding down the back of your thighs.
“So you’d fuck me.” The smile you give him after the words casually roll off your tongue has Harry’s heart pounding in his chest because he really doesn’t understand how he wound up getting to be the one you want so badly that you’ll chug four glasses of water and eat the emergency and very stale crackers you keep in your purse. Because as you stand there looking down at him after a night out and with his reading glasses sliding down your nose he still thinks you’re the most breathtaking thing he’s ever gotten the privilege of laying his eyes on, and it makes him a little angry with himself when he thinks of all the time he wasted avoiding being anything other than an annoying friend of your brothers when he could’ve been enjoying the feeling of having you and being loved by you instead.
“You are gonna fuck me right?” Your voice being on the verge of sounding a little emotional snaps Harry out of his thoughts as your hands fall to your sides. “I—I swear m’just a little buzzed and—and I drank water and ate-”
“Shh baby it’s okay.” Harry is standing up and cupping your face in his hands before you can start to really get yourself upset. “My good girl is gonna get exactly what she wants.” His words have a grin spreading across your face as he carefully slides his glasses off your nose and tosses them onto the dresser near the bedroom door.
“I’m your good girl?” Harry nods as he leans in so he can nudge the tip of his nose against yours.
“You’re always my good girl baby.” He tells you before pressing his lips against your in a kiss that has you automatically melting into him, your arms wrap around his neck pulling him closer while Harry’s hands drop to your waist and in one smooth motion he’s bending his knees just enough to pick you up. He feels you smile against his lips as his hands grip the backs of your thighs as your legs wrap around his middle, he doesn’t break away from the kiss as he turns the two of you around. Your lips move against his and he eagerly lets you slip your tongue into his mouth as he carries you to the edge of the bed, you let out a small moan when you feel his tongue slide over yours just as your back hits the plush mattress.
“Did you miss me?” You ask him as you try to catch your breath when he pulls away from the kiss, the skirt of your dress rides further up your thighs as Harry’s hands run up and down the sides of your legs that are still wrapped around him not letting him get too far from you as his feet stay planted on the floor near the edge of the bed. Harry gives you a playful grin as he nods his head at what he views as a silly question but to you in your current state it’s probably an extremely life altering kind of question that he must answer with a certain level of dramatics or you won’t believe him.
“Missed you so much sweetheart.” He mumbles against your skin as he kisses his way down your jaw while one of your hands slides into the back of his hair giving it a small tug to urge him to continue because there’s no way that’s all he has to say. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you—had to use my hand and fuck my fist in the shower—couldn’t control myself.” His voice is low as he whispers in your ear making you smile at his confession as he kisses his way down your neck.
“Awe my poor baby had to use his own hand to get off—that’s so sad.” Harry doesn’t have to be looking at you to know you have a very dramatic pout on your face as your hands run up and down his back, lightly scratching at his skin with your nails making a shiver run down his spine as he nips at your neck.
“It was very sad-” you let out a loud giggle as Harry gives the side of your neck a little bite before pulling away just enough so he can lock eyes with you. “But I know you missed me too didn’t you love?” The intensity of Harry’s stare makes your heart start to thud against your ribs and your mind to become nothing more than a swirling whirling mess of thoughts that all have something to do with how badly you need him, you’re too busy staring and getting lost in the brightness of his green eyes you don’t even notice him moving you further up the mattress until your head is resting on his pillow.
“Baby—come on sweetheart gotta focus for me please.” Harry’s soft voice calling for you so sweetly mixed with the faintest hint of what you swear is his cologne is the lifeline you need to pull yourself out of your own overwhelming thoughts and back into the present moment, his gaze is gentle as he watches you look around and realize he’s now hovering over you with a hand on either side of your head that’s comfortably resting on a pillow. Your hands grab onto the tops of his shoulders and slowly slide down his arms, you bite into your bottom lip when you feel the muscles of his biceps flexing under your warm palms. “There she is—there’s my girl.” You smile as he leans down and places a quick kiss to your lips.
Harry’s eyes follow your hands as they travel down the front of your dress, he feels you unwrap your legs from around him and place your feet flat on the mattress and you catch the way his eyes darken as they watch one of your hands bunch the skirt of your dress up just enough so your other one can easily slide between your thighs. You let out a small sigh of relief as you slip two fingers through your slick folds, teasing yourself a bit as you gather some of your arousal that’s been causing a slippery mess between your legs for the majority of the evening onto your fingers. His eyes finally glance up to your face as you bring your fingers up to his lips, he eagerly lets you push them into his mouth and the deep moan that vibrates through him as his tongue licks and sucks at your digits goes straight to your core.
“That’s how much I missed you.” Harry hums in appreciation as you let him swirl his tongue around your fingers for a few more moments before pulling them out of his mouth. “Was so uncomfortable all night it-”
“Where are your panties?” His voice is husky and has the tiniest edge to it as he moves to sit on his knees between your spread legs, his eyes take in your bare center that’s glistening in the dim light of the bedroom. “I know you didn’t go out like this baby—I know you’d never let your pretty little cunt be seen by some strangers at a bar on accident so tell me—where are your panties?” Harry’s eyes stay glued on the beautiful sight before him while you just let out a soft giggle as his fingertips run up and down the outside of your thighs.
“The hallway I—I almost tripped taking them off but I didn’t.” Your triumphant smile at the fact you didn’t fall in the process of taking your panties off has all the roughness of Harry’s demeanor melting away as he laughs and shakes his head.
“What am I going to do with you huh?” He asks with a chuckle as he leans down to place a quick kiss yo your lips. “My silly girl.” Harry watches your chest rise and fall rapidly as he sits back on his knees, your eyes are locked on the very noticeable bulge of his sweatpants and Harry can’t help but laugh when you lick your lips before biting down into the bottom one. “You okay sweet-”
“M’gonna die if you don’t fuck me soon Harry I—I really think I’m gonna just burst be—because I need you so bad and—and you’re just so hot and I love you so much I can’t-” Before you can finish your fuzzy alcohol induced rant Harry is hovering over you and pressing his lips to yours for a kiss that soothes all your worries and has you feeling as if time is slowing down, your eyes fall closed as he licks into your mouth and when he rolls his hips into you he knows exactly what he’s doing and he can’t help but let out a deep moan when he feels your hands tugging down his sweatpants so you can wrap one of your hands around his thick shaft.
“My hand looks prettier wrapped around your cock doesn’t it?” You tease as Harry’s lips move to your neck, he lets out a groan when you give him a few slow pumps.
“I think it’s—it’s the lovely shade of glittery pink nail polish that makes it look so pretty wrapped around me.” He says between soft moans against the sensitive skin of your neck, you smile at his compliment of your nail color even though he’s the one that picked it out the other day when he treated you to a nail day while he went out for a bit to run a few errands.
“It’s so big and—god it makes me feel so good I love how thick it is.” Harry holds back a smug looking smile as you let out a soft moan in the middle of you praising his cock that you’re slowly gliding your hand up and down.
“I love your pussy just as much as you love my cock—we’re a perfect match aren’t we baby?” You just nod as Harry pulls away from your neck, you line the tip of his thick shaft up with your slick entrance making him let out a loud moan when you unwrap your hand from him just as your legs wrap around his middle and pull him closer making him push into your tight center.
“S—so perfect.” You moan as Harry slowly pushes deeper into you, savoring every moment of your warm wet walls stretching around him trying to accommodate his size. “Just wanna be closer—need to be closer to you.” You whine as your nails dig into Harry’s back tying to pull him closer making him let out a soft groan as he tries his hardest to not just slam into you because he knows that would be too much for you in the delicate state you’re in and would more than likely end with you being a teary eyed mess before he could even really start trying to make you feel good.
“I know I’m—I’m almost there baby just gotta relax for me.” He softly coos in your ear as he works to push deeper into your drippy cunt, it’s not until he bottoms out and his hips are pressing against you that he hears you let out a deep sigh and a lazy smile spreads across your face. “How’s that baby? You have me tucked deep inside you—can’t get any closer than we are right now.”
“Oh Harry it feels-” you sniffle a few times as your arms loop around his neck as he stares down at you to make sure the emotion he hears in your voice isn’t one of sadness. “It’s so good—I love feeling like this with you.” Your words have Harry’s heart swelling in his chest as you pull him down for a kiss he lets you control while he gives you a long slow roll of his hips.
“It’s like heaven anytime I get to feel you like this.” He tells you sweetly as you pull away with a soft sigh, Harry keeps his pace torturously slow letting you feel every inch of his thick shaft as it pushes and pulls against your warm walls with each soft thrust creating a dull pressure to start forming in your lower tummy.
There’s a softness to you in this moment that Harry rarely gets to see since normally in the bedroom it’s a rough show of passion and need while being a toss up on who is in control, because it switches in the blink of an eye depending on the situation. But right now even though he’s the one who might appear to be in control of the situation Harry knows better, and he has no shame in admitting that you’re in control because Harry is always hellbent on giving you exactly what you want and right now if all you want is to feel him tucked deep inside you letting you feel as close to him as humanly possible then that’s what he’s going to give you. It’s a change of pace for the two of you, but it’s a welcomed one because as Harry looks down at you and sees your eyes going round and getting that glossed over sheen to them as a lazy smile works its way across your face he knows you’re perfectly content and in his mind you’ve never looked more precious to him than you do right now.
“Your eyes are so green.” Harry lets out a chuckle as you move a hand so its cupping the side of his face, he closes his eyes when your thumb runs over his eyebrow a few times before gently running back and forth over his cheekbone. When he feels your hand slide down his neck he opens his eyes back up just to find you staring at the spot on his chest that your palm is pressed against. “Can I claim this spot? Right—is this where your heart is?” You ask just as Harry gives you a perfectly timed thrust that has you arching your back and lifting your hips to meet his as a sweet and soft moan falls from your pretty mouth.
“A—a little to the left.” He tells you making you move your hand just a bit until he nods. “Can you feel it? Feel it beating?”
“Yes—I want my name right here so no one else can have it.”
“It’s been yours for a long time—it’s always going to be yours.” He reassures you with a kiss to your lips as his words sink in making you swallow down the emotions that are trying to bubble up to the surface. “If that’s what you want I’ll get your pretty name tattooed right there tomorrow—so I can always have you with me.” He tells you with a smile as you wrap your arms around his neck, Harry uses your hold on him to lean back so he’s resting on his knees and you’re situated on the tops of his thighs with your legs still around his waist while his hands grip your hips.
“I—I love you.” You say with a moan as you feel him go deeper with each slow thrust that lets the tip of his cock nudge at the spot deep inside you that has you leaning back as his name rolls off your tongue over and over again.
“I love you too baby—so fucking much.” He says breathlessly as your hands grasp onto his shoulders as your hips match his pace. You let out a moan as he quickens his pace just enough to cause your breasts to slightly bounce with each thrust, Harry moves one hand up so he can squeeze at your left breast through the soft fabric of your dress.
“Oh god—you feel so good.” You pant as Harry’s lips find your neck while he keeps up his new pace. “Fuck Harry you’re—shit it’s so good.” You stutter as Harry sucks and licks at the spot just below your ear, he feels your walls start to flutter and squeeze him as his hand drops from your chest and slips between the two of you until the pad of his thumb is rubbing slow tight circles over your clit.
“Fucking love your pussy baby always feels so good—always so soaked and needy for me.” You moan as Harry keeps his slower pace but makes each thrust a little harder making your hold on his shoulders tighten as your feet plant themselves on top of the mattress as you try to keep up with the rhythm of his thrusts.
“Always—always need you always wanna be stuf—stuffed full of you.” Harry lets out a groan as your walls squeeze around his thick shaft.
“I know baby I know you love having my big cock stuffed deep inside you—that’s why you get so achy for me huh? Just always wanna be my greedy girl and get off on this thick cock you love so much.” His words and the pressure his thumb adds to your clit has you slipping into a warm pool of pleasure that feels as if you’re floating on a puffy cloud as the pressure in your lower tummy reaches its breaking point.
“Yes yes—love it so much.” Harry holds back a groan as you sloppily try to match his pace while your walls constrict around him, his eyes watch your face as you close your eyes and lean your head back as you let out a cry of his name. “Oh god—oh fuck I love it—love how you fuck me don’t—don’t stop.” Your voice is breathy as your orgasm washes over you, one soft wave after another making Harry moan as he feels you start to come undone.
“That’s it baby keep squeezing me—fuck you’re doing so good baby making such a pretty mess.” He tells you softly as he moves to lay your back against the mattress, he moves his hands so they are roughly gripping your hips as he keeps your legs around his middle letting him look down at where the two of you are connected, his eyes nearly roll back and he has to bite down onto his bottom lip to stop himself from bursting as he watches his cock that’s slick with your juices get sucked back into your needy hole with each slow thrust. “Shit baby you’re squeezing me so fucking tight I’m—I’m not gonna last much longer.” You let out a soft moan as Harry fucks you through your orgasm, the new angle he has you in allows his cock to continue to hit that spot deep inside you that has you seeing stars behind your closed eyelids.
“Oh god.” You cry out as Harry leans over you so his hands are resting near your head and his hips quicken their pace so he’s all but pounding you into the mattress, your hands tangle into his hair as your eyes open and find his already staring back at you.
“Fuck baby I love you.” He mumbles before crashing his lips into yours as his hips give you a few more thrusts before he’s roughly pressing himself against you, he lets out a moan that you just swallow down as he starts to coat your walls with the warmth of his release.
“All mine.” You breathe out as Harry pulls away from your kiss swollen lips as he rocks his hips just enough to feel you squeezing him trying to milk him of every last drop.
“That’s right baby it’s all yours—all for you.” He pants as he tries to catch his breath as both of you ride out the high of your release. “Just you.” He adds with a quick peck to your lips. Harry lets you enjoy the fullness of having him tucked up inside you keeping in the warmth of his release for a few minutes before he places a kiss to your forehead and slowly slides out of you making you let out a sad whine.
“You’re so mean.” You pout as Harry pulls his sweatpants back up and plops down on the bed next to you and that’s when you notice you’re on his pillow, having been engulfed in his comforting scent the whole time not even realizing it’s why you were able to relax so easily when you were moments away from slipping off into your overwhelming thoughts.
“Don’t look at me like that baby it makes me think you don’t understand how well I know you.” He teases as you turn your head to look at him with big doe eyes and your bottom lip poking out.
“You—you really do know me so well don’t you?” Harry just nods as he rolls over to his side and reaches a hand out to cup the side of your face that’s not pressed into the pillow.
“I do.” He says softly as his thumb brushes away a stray tear that falls from your eye. “I know you so well that I can almost guarantee that after we go take a shower and get you all cleaned up you’re going to be hungry for a little snack and—even though I don’t get your obsession with it I’ll still end up ordering you Taco Bell to eat in bed before you fall asleep.” Your face breaks out into a smile as you sniffle a few times and blink back anymore tears that want to spill over your waterline at how genuine the love Harry has for you feels in this very moment.
“I know you like their nacho fries.”
“I—well yes okay I do like those—they are odd and honestly shouldn’t taste as good as they do.” You let out a laugh as his thumb brushes over your cheekbone.
“I love you.” Harry smiles as he leans over and places a kiss to your lips.
“I love you too sweetheart—happy Valentine’s Day.”
I cannot fucking deal with them ughhh why are they so cute!!!! And the banter between harry and niall??? That's my fave part. I love when they bicker like 5 year olds. But drunk yn is so fucking sweet I wanna cry you don't understand i really wanted to melt away my heart couldn't take all that sweetness from both of them 🥺 I love them so much so so much ❤️ and harry better get her name tattooed on his heart first thing in the morning!!!!!
I seriously LOVE your writing, been devouring your quickies at the mo too. Wondering if you might be willing to write just a basic cowgirl fic with y/n just riding the f outta harry? No pressure just would be very interested if possible xx anyway love your writing and thanks for blessing our timelines all the time!
we ride at dawn, ladies!! thank you both for these requests, i hope you both enjoy!!
Can you hear me now? - A Harry Styles Smutty Blurb
Quickies Masterlist or Main Masterlist
Summary: Harry and Kendall need to have a conversation and you swear you're not jealous
2.8k words
C/W: smut, p-in-v penetration (cowgirl style), lite oral (m!receiving), lite hand job, jealous/insecure reader, kinda sub!Harry, kinda dom!reader, auditory exhibitionism (had to look that one up)
Harry had attempted to explain the situation, the exact details as to why he needed to have a phone call with Kendall Jenner, but you hadn’t bothered to remember them. For some reason, they were both working on some project, you couldn’t recall what, and Kendall felt like she needed to call Harry to iron out the kinks, according to her, and she was tired of calling her people to reach out to his people so she could ask Harry a singular question. Hashing out all the particulars in one phone call over the course of one evening would simplify things, make it easier for everyone.
Everyone except you.
Envy prickled your skin whenever you thought about the impending call. You knew of his history with Kendall, but not much else. Harry preferred to keep his prior relationships to himself, though he promised to answer any questions you had. But your relationship was still so fresh, too new to be as inquisitive, as invasive as you wanted. Now this phone call was answering questions you never asked, filling in gaps with the worst possible scenarios. Why did they break up? Was she aware that he had moved on? Did he still want her? Did she still want him? If you asked those questions now, Harry would get all smug, and ask if you were jealous, which you didn’t want to flaunt, you weren’t proud of it.
Instead of revealing your sour emotions, you keep them locked tight. Your greed for Harry’s time and attention expands into brand new levels of clinginess, not that Harry seems to mind the way you make room for yourself on his lap or how your lips never seem to leave his skin. Or how much more frequently you were parting your thighs, begging for him to ease the ache he caused.
The fateful day of the phone call finally came and all those bitter feelings pool into your panties, possessed by an insatiable horniness. You tried to sort it out yourself, but none of your usual tricks were working, your favorite toy wasn’t satisfying, and your clit was starting to hurt with how furiously you rubbed at it. There was only one solution left: you needed Harry.
Tiptoeing your way into Harry’s office, you see him lounging on his couch, nose buried deep into his phone, his fingers pinching at his bottom lip, making them seem more pouty and red and kissable. His gaze is distracted by your squirming in the doorway, smiling easily as the tension surrounding the call melts away.
“She hasn’t called yet?” you ask, breathy and unaffected, trying to appear nonchalant, as you lean up against the doorframe.
The exaggerated calm you display clues Harry into what you’re doing, the game that you’re not so subtly playing. “No, she texted to say she’ll be a little late.”
“Hmm, shame,” you note, sauntering over to where Harry rests, his legs extended out along the other couch cushions. The light tug he gives your hand is enough invitation. Laying down atop him, you snuggle into his chest, curling up so that you could hear his heartbeat thumping against your ear. “Did she say how long she’d be?” Your finger starts tracing looping patterns over his shirt, dipping into the crevices his muscles formed, carving out the body you’ve been getting to learn the past few months.
“Um, no…” he trails off, checking his phone again. “Just that she’d be a bit.”
Even before the call has started, before her honey sweet voice has the chance to worm its way back into his life, the dip of his attention away from you enrages you. Despite his hand on your back rubbing soothingly, the way his gaze flicks to his phone, to her, you feel envy spark through you like lightning, igniting a need for validation that must be quenched.
Holding back your fury, you press your lips to his pecs, dipping your hand below the hem of his shirt to feel his skin on yours, thumbing at the top of his jeans. “Does that mean you’ve got some time?”
Harry laughs, his belly jostling underneath you, the slight movement along your crotch making your brain short circuit with desire. “Love, she’s gonna call any minute.”
“You’ve finished in a minute before.”
“Oi, I’m not proud of that one, love,” he defends himself, his laugh lingering, only marginally offended. “It was a specific set of circumstances.”
While Harry tries to save his reputation, your fingers have been busy with his jeans, undoing the button and dragging down the zipper as fast as your clumsy hands could. He sighs as the zipper lowers past his bulging cock, a little moan slipping out as his member stretches out from its confines.
“Oh, I-I can’t promise anything, my love,” he warns while you stand up, lifting up his hips to help as you tug his pants down his legs. “Kendall might call at any mome-ooh.” He’s interrupted by a deep moan as you lean forward, taking his cock into your mouth, letting your spit collect around the tip as you sloppily coat him. Swallowing more of him down, you smear your saliva all over him, lubing him up for your use, gagging as you reach the base of him. “Jesus, love, don’t choke yourself,” he worries, petting your hair gently.
Raising your head, you gulp down your remaining spit, wiping your chin clean of the excess spilling out of you. “Could she do better?”
“What?”
“Could she take your cock better than me?” you question, running your fist up and down his dick, your hold tightening when you mention her. You don’t dignify her with a name, already tired of hearing it.
Harry gives you a confused shake of his head, having a hard time understanding your question while you're jerking his cock. “Aw, love, it's not like-”
“That's not a no,” you cut in, letting go of him, his dick flopping down and landing on his tummy with a wet slap, settling between his ferns.
His hands come up to rub at his face, floundering for how to salvage this. “I didn't mean-" but he stops himself when he removes his hands and catches you in the middle of disrobing, your pants and underwear already piling up on the ground, stretching your arms above your head as you pull your shirt off, quick to reach behind and undo your bra strap. “Oh Christ, you're beautiful.”
You can't stop the proud smirk from forming at his breathless compliment as you crawl back on top of him, situating your legs on either side of his hips, sitting so that his cock rests between your lips. Sliding along his length, you wet yourself with your own spit, mixing it with the slick that secretes from your pussy.
Gripping your thighs, his fingers indenting the juicy flesh, Harry thrusts his hips up, running his dick through your slit.
As good as it feels, as much as his enthusiasm for your body tempers your jealousy, you didn’t want him to assist you. You had a point to prove. Slamming your hips down onto his, you force him to be still beneath you. “Nuh-uh,” you say. “You don’t get to move.” Rolling your hips above him, you twist your nipples between your fingers, moaning at the twinge of pain. “Did she need you to help? Could she not ride you on her own?” Your tone has grown sickly sweet, mocking and degrading.
“Mmm, baby, I…” Harry struggles to form his words as you tease him with the warmth of your cunt, dragging it over him, taunting him with how close he is to feeling you wrapped around his cock. “You’re so- oh, baby- mmm, you feel so good, baby?”
“Better than her?”
He doesn’t answer, doing his best to not speak ill of his ex, trying to follow his famous mantra, but you couldn’t care less about treating her with kindness.
Halting your movements, you sit up on your knees, separating your pussy from his cock, strings of arousal snapping as you lift off of him. “Is she better than me?”
“N-no, no, no, no she’s not. You’re better, so much better, baby,” Harry reassures, babbling out what he hopes is an appropriate response. Without the enveloping heat of you, his dick suffers from the chill of the room, twitching angrily. He'll say anything to get you to move, to let him feel you again.
“Good boy,” you praise, patting his cheek condescendingly as you lower yourself back down, cooing at the squelch of your wet pussy slotting around his dick. “Can you hear that baby?” you ask him, bouncing on the spot again, creating that same sound. “Oh, yeah, I bet she never got this wet for you.”
Shaking his head, Harry whimpers beneath you as you keep raising yourself up, then landing back on top of his cock, filling the room with the melody off your colliding genitals. “No, only you, only-oh baby, so wet, baby.”
“That’s it, baby.” Sufficiently satisfied with his compliance, you lift up again, reaching between your thighs, adjusting his shaft so that when you settle back down, you force his head through your lips. As you sink further down onto him, you make yourself push past the harsh stretch, the hitch of pain Harry normally helps work you through by rubbing your clit and whispering sweet nothings in your ear, taking on all of him in one slick movement. Once you’ve fully sheathed him, you give yourself a moment to savor the fullness of him, the thickness, the mouthwatering way he pulses inside of you, the tip of his cock caressing that spot that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head.
Harry’s hands haven’t moved from your thighs, his grip faltering then tightening, flexing with each clench of your walls around him. His eyes flutter close, fighting to keep them open, wanting to watch you fuck him. “Oh baby,” he mumbles. “Oh, baby, but what if Kend-”
“Don’t say her name!” you order, your body tensing up at the first syllable. Harry throws his head back, extending out his neck, as the tight coil of your body clamps around his dick, the pressure unbelievable. A few more clenches like that, and Harry would be painting your cunt with his come, reaching his orgasm embarrassingly quick. “I’m the one fucking you, not her.”
“Ye-yes, baby,” Harry agrees. “Only you can fuck me. You fuck me so good, baby.”
Rewarding his compliance, you raise yourself up then slide back down, working yourself up and down the length of him. With a rumbling groan, you start building up a rhythm of grinding down onto Harry, making him nudge against the deepest part of you. “Ooooh, fuuuck yeeeaaah,” you growl. You remove one of Harry’s hands from your thigh, moving it so that he cups your tit, running his thumb over your pebbled nipple.
“Thank you, baby,” he whines, “thank you for fucking me, oh baby, plea-”
The phone rings, the obnoxious ringtone startling you both out of the moment. Harry lets go of your boob, twisting underneath you so he could reach for his phone on the table next to him, accidentally knocking it to the ground. With a curse, he grabs the device, swiping the screen and bringing it up to his ear. “Hello?” His hand travels up from your thighs, curving around your hip, attempting to hold you down. “Yeah, hey, you alright?”
Your face scrunches up in annoyance as he’s immediately absorbed into his important work conversation, ignoring your naked body writhing above him, instead focusing on her. Quirking your lips into a crooked scowl, you look down at where your crotch meets Harry’s, where he disappears inside of you.
“I’m alright, thanks for asking.”
The commentary isn’t meant for you, but you can’t help but take it personally. “Alright”? He called his girlfriend riding him “alright”?!
Leaning back, you rest your hands between his thighs, adjusting your position above him. His nails dig into your skin as you move, but he doesn’t tell you to stop. Slowly, you shift back, watching Harry’s face flicker with restrained desire, holding back a filthy moan as you slide back across him. Then you do it again, and again, rolling your hips above him at a rapidly growing pace. You know this way doesn’t provide much enjoyment for Harry, at least not as much if you were able to bounce on him, but you don’t really care for his pleasure at this time. If he doesn’t want to focus on you, then you won’t focus on him.
This position allows you to use his cock for your own, like your own personal dildo. Rutting along his length, your mouth drops into a sigh, breath low and silent then growing louder. As you punctuate each grind with a whimper of a moan, you feel that familiar brewing in your belly.
Harry’s eyes flicker up to you, hypnotized by your swirling hips, his teeth biting into his lower lip. He was being rude, he knew it, but how could he focus on the phone call when you were using his dick to get yourself off. Each moan is accompanied with a squeeze of your cunt, your pussy fluttering around him, nearing your release.
“Do you like this?” you ask him. Pumping yourself atop him, you breathe out a laugh. “Do you like getting fucked while she listens?”
“Mhm,” Harry hums.
“Ok, great,” the phone speaker relays. Harry isn’t sure what he just agreed to, but he can’t find it in himself to care right now. “And then I wanted to discuss the color scheme…” The rest of their monologue muddles, droning on like some Charlie Brown character because Harry isn’t paying them any mind now. How could he when he’s enraptured by your shaking thighs, your twisting nipples, and the delicious way you clench around his cock.
“Oh, fuck,” you groan, “I’m gonna come. Gonna make a mess all over you while she listens.”
He clears his throat to cover up his moan, then wets his lips. “Yeah, sounds go-od,” Harry says, choking on his words when you clamp around him harshly.
Tossing your head back, your groans crescendo as your orgasm pulses through you, stuttering above him. Your pussy clenches around Harry’s cock, trapped within the rolling waves of pleasure as your muscles constrict then let go, releasing yourself with a gasping moan, your body shuttering through your orgasm.
Harry presses the phone harder against his ear, something to alleviate the pressure that’s coursing over his dick. His bottom lip slips out between his teeth and he can’t help but mutter, “Oh, fuck.”
“Are you okay?” the person on the phone asks him, concerned by his random outburst.
“Yeah, sorry, I-” Harry stalls, his mouth opening and closing, trying to get some blood to flow back up to his head in order to come up with an acceptable excuse. “I stubbed my toe.”
The person on the other end buys the excuse but you just smirk at him, already rolling your hips, pushing your still sensitive cunt to be filled again. Rising up on your knees, you slowly sink down, taking him inch by inch. “What’s the matter, baby? You don’t want her to know you got someone better fucking you now?”
Holding the phone away from him, Harry whispers, “Look so pretty, baby. So fucking pretty,” then places the phone back by his ear, trying to return to his work.
Leaning forward, you press your chest into Harry’s, laying atop him as your hips pound into him, now edging him on. Your lips trail up his jaw until you near his ear, the one not currently listening to his ex. “You know what else is pretty? Those gorgeous moans of yours. Do you think she remembers them? Or did she never get to hear them?” you tease, speeding up your rhythm, chasing that second high that was beginning to rise. “Are all these pretty noises just for me?”
“Mm, fuck,” Harry whines, forgetting to cover up, too lost in the sensation of your quivering pussy around him. “Hey, I’m sorry, I-I’m gonna have to call you back. I’ll call you later, yeah? Sorry, I gotta-” He doesn’t even finish his thought before he’s hanging up the call and throwing his phone across the room, not caring where it ended up. “Holy fuck, baby, just like that, yeah baby, yeah, just like that,” he pleads through clenched teeth, raising his hips to meet yours, unable to hold himself back anymore, reaching even further inside you.
With both of you working towards it, it doesn’t take long for the two of you to reach your peaks, Harry thrusting his hips up into you as you slam yourself back down, twitching and writhing within each other’s arms. Your cunt strokes him until he’s spent all his come inside you, gasping with each additional squeeze you give him. Harry flops back against the couch and you collapse on top of him, shoving your face into his pecs, the both of you worn out.
“You could’ve just said you’re jealous,” Harry pants, running a hand through his hair as his breaths struggle to even out.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you shrug.
“Oh, good, you took her to the vet,” Y/N whips her head around to see Harry, but he looks much different than he did during their first meeting. No dark clothes and black hoodie, no black mask, and no knife – at least none that she could see. He probably has it strapped to his ankle or something, “I was worried you’d just drop her off at a shelter or something. There are plenty of no-kill ones in the area, but you know, sweet kittens can get lost in the cracks there sometimes.”
When he reaches out to let the kitten sniff his hands, Y/N pulls the carrier closer to her, regarding him doubtfully, “What are you doing here?” She inquires, “You don’t have to follow me, I’m not going to tell.”
Harry’s brows raise, “Huh? I’m not following you. I was getting a tea,” he holds up the boba cup in his left hand, shaking it around, then reaches into his pocket and produces a punch card, with ten cups scribbled out, “I come here all the time, it’s my favorite. This was my 10th one, so the next time it’s free. You can ask Gladys, I’m her favorite customer.”
or
Y/N and Harry have the meet-ugly of the century
[WARNING: Harry lowkey has some stalker-ish tendencies, but he isn't being creepy for creep-sake, it's more so 'I need to make sure you don't ruin this very intense, long-standing operation' kind (and things concerning the cat). It's heavier in this part than it will be in the following parts. There are also references to kidnapping, though none actually happen in the fic, and mentions of violence. IF THIS IN ANYWAY MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE, this may not be the fic to read!!]
(17.1k+ words)
i.
Y/N can see the breath in front of her mouth.
That’s all she can see right now, really. That’s all she can focus on, beyond the loud, almost obnoxious thudding that her heart echoes through her ears, bouncing off the membranes inside like a kettle drum. She hears that, her own staggered breathing, and then the resounding silence that can only manifest in times of pure panic. Like that time she honest to god thought a bear was in the backyard of their rented cabin (with a very unreliable door, that even a raccoon had managed to open with a little shove of its body – it turned out that it wasn’t a bear, but someone’s dog from a spot rented nearby, thankfully), or when she was driving in a thunderstorm so horrible that she could barely see the car in front of her beyond the sheets of rain (she was alone, of course, on her way to Niall’s and thinking that she could beat out the storm, but it turns out that when the weather app says rain in 20 minutes, it actually means 5).
Well, it just so happens that when an unknown assailant has her pinned against bricks with something sharp at her throat, her body has the same response. Her sympathetic nervous system is consistent, to say the least, and maybe a little confused about the difference between a thunderstorm and being kidnapped and potentially killed.
Her day had started like any other day. Y/N had woken up ten minutes before her first alarm, then rolled around beneath her covers until her second. She did her morning stretches, a New Year’s resolution imposed by Niall, who was convinced they could hold each other accountable (he stopped doing them a week in), then forced herself into a shower where the water was too on the side of too hot. The way it pelted at her skin felt like little pieces of lava raining from the sky – or what she assumed that felt like. She made half of breakfast because she was already running a bit late and wanted to stop by her favorite cafe on the way to work. The barista, whose name she did not know despite seeing him at least 2-3 times a week, already had her typed in, so she swiped her card and loitered around the pick-up counter until it was ready. She took the subway further into the city, which let her off just a block away from her office building.
Once she got to work, it was much the same as well. She clocked in, and her coworker Aki was usually around the time clock at the same point she was in the morning, so they’d walk in together. Y/N would get to her desk, and she’d set her coffee down on the table, and while she was organizing her stuff to set up shop for the day, Niall would pop his head over the top of her and Aki’s shared space. Only Y/N’s coffee is the only one that Niall plucks up from the desk and steals a drink from without asking (something that would typically send her over the edge, but she and Niall had been friends since UNI, had even lived together for a couple of semesters before he moved in with his boyfriend at the time, and what was hers, was his, and vice versa – he’d beaten that into her within the first month of knowing him).
She’s a part of the marketing team for a music company, and with an album release around the corner, their days were pretty busy. Enough so that when Niall grinned, asking her what she was wearing to her date tonight, she barely looked away from the screen to say, “What date?” And promptly get swatted in the shoulder for it, by Aki though, not Niall (he knew Y/N would hit him back 10x harder) “Hey –”
“You seriously did not forget your date!” Aki’s voice is relatively deep for how girly she looks with pink hair and an even pinker cardigan on, but it can get pretty shrill when she’s upset. “With the handsome guy Niall set you up with? The CEO of –”
“Oh, yeah, yeah, the pet food guy.” Y/N filled in.
“The CEO of the pet food brand,” Niall corrects, “You could be Miss. Yummy Bites Meow-edition, but tell me you brought something different to wear.”
Y/N pouted and looked down at her outfit – sure, maybe it wasn’t the best thing in the world, but it wasn’t horrible, “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
“Are you planning on seducing a CEO in a sweater?” Aki inquired.
Her pout deepened, “It’s cashmere!” She told them, “Besides, I’m not looking to seduce anyone. This is more of a courtesy date since he’s Ni’s friend of a friend, or however this got set up. Bestie's rules say that I can’t make him look bad.”
“That is true,” Niall wrapped around the cubicle half wall, instead of leaning over it as he was, and pulling the stool Y/N used to set her feet up on from beneath her desk to sit, “Sweater or not, I want you to give him a chance, yeah? You were just complaining about not having anyone to cuddle during the winter.”
Y/N sighed and finally spun around from her computer, “I was drunk when I was whining about that, you know you’re supposed to take that with a grain of salt.”
“Drunk mind, sober truth,” Aki quoted, and Niall nodded his assent.
“So when Ni said he was open to tentacle porn after four tequila shots, he was telling the truth?”
“Hey, I was drunk, you can’t trust a thing I say.”
Y/N scoffed, then rumpled her lips, she sagged her shoulders, “Listen, I promise to give the pet store guy a chance, yeah? We’ll fall in love discussing kibble marketing tactics.”
“That’s the spirit!” Aki chirped, squeezing her knee, “There’s love in the air – I’m sensing your soulmate nearby!”
Even with the proposed date, the rest of Y/N’s day went by as it usually does. She went to meetings, she ate lunch with Niall and Aki, then got into an intense discussion regarding a Korean drama that Niall had never watched but liked to have invested opinions on. Y/N almost spilled the pasta she had on the cashmere sweater, but thankfully, it just hit her pants instead, and a stain remover pen works far better on wool-blended pants. The second half of the day is relatively quick, and Aki, who kept a mini flat iron in her purse at all times for her bangs, re-did Y/N’s hair in the bathroom.
By 6 PM, she was sitting in a restaurant with a glass of red wine in front of her. Every sip she took, her face pinched, because she hates wine, actually, but Niall said it would make her look more affluent and cultured or whatever. She thought it’d be better to try and get used to the taste now, while she waited for him to show, rather than trying to police her face in front of a stranger whom she was meant to be “wooing”.
They were supposed to meet at 6:15 PM, but Y/N showed up a bit earlier because she was closer. Y/N had tapped into the two-week-old message thread during lunch break to confirm dinner, because if she forgot, and she wasn’t a CEO, then she’s assuming he most likely forgot too. Surprisingly enough, he confirmed the time and the place, and said he was excited to meet her. She wondered if it was his secretary or personal assistant responding instead of him, because the exclamation points and general excitement seemed not that of a CEO. Maybe she was casting judgment before giving him a chance, though – maybe he would be a quirky guy. He runs a pet food company, and Y/N felt as though she shouldn’t expect a brooding, grumpy executive.
Y/N was open to being shocked by the guy.
If he ever showed up.
Because 6:15 turned into 6:30. And 6:30 turned into 7:00. And Y/N was two glasses of wine and about half a loaf of complimentary bread in before she accepts that she got stood up on a date that she didn’t even want to fucking go to. Y/N knew that her waiter knew, and her waiter definitely went to the back with the rest of the staff and spoke about the sad girl in booth 8 waiting for some prick that never showed. She took her check, sent Niall and Aki a very strongly worded message, and tried to walk out of the restaurant with her head held high, even though she definitely wanted to cry a little. She was embarrassed, above all things, and Y/N hated feeling like she was a part of a humiliation ritual. The only time she likes to be kind of humiliated is in bed, but that’s where she draws the line.
So, yeah, tears were beading at her eyes as she was shoving her arms through her puffy winter coat. She could feel her phone buzzing in her pocket, but she wasn’t in the mood to answer it. Y/N needed to get home, get in a hot bath, and roast in it seafood boil style, then eat her leftovers like she had intended to do from the start of the day. Now she was further from the subway than she’d like to be, and on top of that, it’s late now, in the middle of winter. There was a cold front coming in, too, one that was bad enough they’d been told to turn their faucets on and let them drip. The wind chill was bitter when it slapped her across the face – nearly as bitter as the wine she drank and the way she felt.
She was in the middle of pulling her gloves on when she heard a soft meow. Y/N picked her head up and looked around – there were a few people on the street, but not many. It wasn’t the weekend, and typically on Thursday nights, this part of town wasn’t that busy (even ritzy, wealthy people need to go home and get ready for bed at a suitable time during the weekday, it turns out). The meow is sad – it sounded like a cry, and Y/N frowned at the thought of a stray cat out in this weather. It was far too cold, and they weren’t nearly close enough to the animal shelter for it to scout out one of those heated huts they set up for the winter.
In retrospect, it was stupid of her to be lured into an alleyway because of a cat. Had she known that when she stepped into it with her phone’s flashlight lit up, she’d be yanked further in and placed in this particular predicament? Not at all. All she knew for sure, really, was that if she made it out of this alive, she was going to beat Niall’s ass (not Aki’s, though she held some blame in making her go – because she was well aware Aki could beat her ass).
“Don’t move,” the voice was low, right in her ear, and she felt the cold, sharp tip of a blade right against her throat, “If you do, you’ll get hurt, yeah? We don’t want that, do we?”
Y/N’s mouth runs dry, her heart is echoing in her ears, the visual of her breath ghosting in front of her is all she can see, “N-no,” she replied, her hands stiff at her sides, “I – you can have my wallet, it’s in my pocket, and –”
“I don’t want your money,” he cut her off, “Your little friend you were supposed to meet – you must have been tipped off, yeah? Told him not to show?” Y/N’s brows furrowed, “Who paid you?”
“Wh-what?” Y/N thinks that if this guy wasn’t holding her up, she’d probably fall out, “Nobody paid me, I was – I just got stood up –”
He scoffed, “Do you think I’m stupid?” He replied, “I’ve been following him for weeks, tracking his calls, his emails, his messages – the dumbass didn’t even use a burner. You have connections to Holland.”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about!” Y/N all but squeals, her voice raising, but when he shushes her, she feels the blade against her throat; she swallows hard – her neurons are misfiring, she’s certain of it. She is so overwhelmed, confused, and flushed with fear that she thinks she might pass out. Or that wine is going to make a reappearance on the concrete. Or she’s going to piss herself. Fuck, she doesn’t know. Is she seriously going to get murdered after being stood up? That’s like two messed-up things in one day, and totally not fair! Is this because she didn’t forward that chain mail when she was 11? This has something to do with that, she’s sure of it, because there’s no way that this just happened to her randomly.
Her phone buzzes in her pocket again, “I swear, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she says, voice hushed but rushed, “I literally just work on a marketing team, and I got stood up for a date that my friend set up with some dickhead CEO! I don’t know a ‘Holland’, and I certainly did not tell him not to show up! I barely even know his name!”
A hand reaches into the pocket, her phone is buzzing, and when he holds the phone out in front of them, Niall’s stupid contact photo is on the screen (it’s him, cake smeared all over his face, grinning ear-to-ear after someone random at the bar smushed his head into it after he blew out his candles). “If this call is sketchy in any way,” he threatens, “I’ll kill you where you stand.”
The man behind her swipes the call to answer it, and never has Y/N been so happy with the fact that Niall immediately starts talking as soon as the call clicks over, “Baby, I’m so sorry! I’m seriously going to kick Oliver’s ass, he said this guy was super sweet. And to stand you up, of all people, you’re a catch! You should have been standing him up!” He sounds flustered, “I’m so sorry I made you go.”
She could scream, and holler, and tell Niall to call the cops, but she doesn’t really see what that would do for her right now. This guy could slice her up and be long gone before Niall even believed this wasn’t some elaborate joke to make him feel bad. The blade against her neck was a helpful reminder, too, that he had the upper hand in this situation.
“It’s fine, Ni, I’m just going to go home,” Y/N steels her voice, and tries not to sound like someone being held at knife point, “I’ll – call you when I get there.”
“You don’t want to stay on the phone? I know how much you hate the subway this late. I was kind of hoping he’d use his CEO money to get you an Uber, or like – I don’t know, buy you a car and profess his undying love or something.”
She swallows hard, “No, it’s fine, I just want to be alone with my thoughts for a little while.”
“I get it,” he agrees, “Mope away, baby, call me when you get home, okay? Don’t forget.”
They hang up the phone, and in that same instant, the knife is taken away from her. “Oh, wow, I’m so sorry.” The guy switches up so fast, Y/N nearly gets whiplash, and when she’s twisting to get a look at him, she sees a man with a mask over his mouth and a beanie. He does pull the mask down and pockets the knife – she guesses as a show of trust or something – she doesn’t know. She still feels frozen in her spot, “This is so embarrassing, let me make a quick phone call. Stay where you’re at, though, yeah?”
He pulls his phone from his pocket and dials someone. The guy keeps his gaze on her, and as her eyes finally adjust to the darkness, she can just barely make out his face with the scant amount of light oozing in from the street lamp. It casts shadows over his face – he looks normal. Not like someone who would pull a stranger into the alleyway and threaten them. And he looks incredibly apologetic, scratching at his chin, when the person on the other end answers.
The conversation is short, kind of coded, but Y/N listens when he says, “Yeah, well, I’m staring at the wrong woman right now. Mhm. Yeah – no, yeah, this is definitely bad. Of course I showed her my face, I feel horrible,” he frowned, nodding his head, “Well, yeah that’s a given. Uh-huh. Okay, I’ll tell her,” then he chuckles, “God, shut up, I know – I haven’t done something like this since I was a recruit. Nobody is going to let me hear the end of it.”
He clicks his phone, shuts it off with the pad of his gloved thumb, then slips his phone into his pocket, “Okay, so here’s the thing – I’m not going to hurt you, okay? But I also can’t just let you off into the night – if you go to the police, that kind of really puts a damper on everything, y’know? And this has been years in the making, and a lot of money riding on it, that will piss off some very important people if it gets screwed up.” He pointed to himself, “I don’t want that,” then he pointed to her, “And you definitely don’t want that. I guarantee it. So I’ll have to take you home, okay?”
She stared at him, trying to register everything he told her, and honestly, everything that had just happened in the last 10 minutes. He really didn’t phrase that like a question, so it seemed like what she answered wouldn’t matter either way. When her gaze warily drops down to where he pocketed the knife, he pulls it out of his pocket and delicately gives it an underhand toss across the alleyway. The sound of it clinks and twinkles as it hits the concrete, careening over to a stop against the bricks. “Here, I won’t bring it,” he tells her, then apologizes again, “I’m really sorry, this is so horrible, but – I mean, if you refuse, then I’m going to have to knock you out, and I really don’t want to do that either.”
“You had no problem holding a knife to my throat,” Y/N reminds him, and he holds his chest.
“Hey, that was different, I thought you were someone bad!” He defends himself, “Really, I’m a gentleman.”
She huffs a laugh, finally regaining some of the feeling in her legs, “Um, okay, I guess, I don’t really have a choice,” He nodded, and Y/N couldn’t tell if he mockingly felt bad for her, or if this was genuine, “Can I – can I ask two questions though, really quick?”
“Hm, depends on what they are. I can’t answer some of them.”
“What’s your name?”
He peers at her, squinting a little, “Y’know, I’d normally refuse that one, but it seems like you’ve had a rough night. And if you do go to the police, well – I’ll know, y’know?” No, she doesn’t know how he’d know, but she doesn’t really care to ask either, “And I’ll have time to get things in order, so I’ll be honest with you. My name is Harry. I won’t tell you the last name though,” he held out his hand, formally, to shake, “And your name isn’t Antonyia, I’m guessing? That’s who I thought you were.”
She tentatively takes his hand – she wouldn’t have, if not for the fact that she was wearing a glove too. Their gloved hands meet, and he shakes once, “I’m Y/N,” she replies, “How did you make such a realistic cat sound? Like – that’s the only reason I came in here.”
The man – Harry – blinks, then shakes his head, “Oh, that wasn’t me, that was just really lucky. Good thing you’re an animal lover,” God, is this guy for real? “I reckon there is a real cat in here –” he pointed deeper into the alleyway, “It was meowing the whole time, but I think you were scared, so you didn’t hear. Do you want me to go look? You can keep the flashlight on me to make sure I’m not doing anything weird.”
So Y/N does send him deeper into the alleyway, because she came in here to save a cat, and it almost cost her her life, and she would be saving the fucking cat at the very least. Y/N keeps the flashlight trained on him, watching as he clicks his tongue and calls for whatever cat might be hiding in the alleyway. It takes a while, but soon she hears a gasp, more little chirps, and meows, and then he’s crouching down. When he stands back up, he turns around and makes his way back – when he’s close enough, Y/N can see he’s got a tiny little thing in his arms, covered in mud, and shivering.
“Poor baby,” he sighs, “She’s freezing, isn’t she? And so stinky, ah – let’s get her home.”
“It’s a girl?” Y/N tilted her head, “How can you tell?”
“I can’t,” he answers truthfully, “It’s just a guess. Alright, so my car is kind of far, but –”
“Do you – I mean, do you mind if we take the subway instead?”
They do. Harry is kind enough (that’s funny to say) to allow her the small grace of them taking the subway, rather than Y/N really sealing a night of horrible choices by getting in a stranger’s car. Harry holds onto the cat the entire time and chats idly, as if they were old friends who had just bumped into each other. He talks about the weather, about the show that’s being promoted on the top of the subway, and about what he wants for breakfast tomorrow morning. At this point, Y/N is kind of dissociating, so she’s replying but not to her fullest, probably. He doesn’t seem to take any offense to it, though.
In the light, she can make out his features much better. His eyes are green, his brows are well-groomed, and even his face seems cleanly shaven. His skin looks smooth and soft, like someone who takes delicate care of it. His lips look smooth too, and glossy, and his cheekbones are high. He even has pretty cute dimples. Objectively, he’s handsome and quite pretty, but he was holding a knife to her throat no more than 30-ish minutes ago, so she is still wary. What must his job be, if that’s something he does? Did he work for the mafia? Or just some random gang? Honestly, with how he coos and talks sweetly to the kitten, she doesn’t see how he could be the type of person carrying around a knife at all, but she supposes she’s been wrong in her assessments before.
He walks her all the way up to her door, where he’s handing over the sodden, muddied kitten that had been a very good girl (boy?) during the entire venture home. Her eyes widened, “Oh, I can’t –”
“You’ll have to,” he replied decisively, carefully navigating her, “I have some stuff to take care of, since I messed up, haha.” Y/N takes the stinky, muddy kitten in her arms and tries not to think about getting these stains out of her coat and sweater. “Take good care of her, okay? I’ll keep in touch!”
Then he’s leaving, relatively leisurely for someone who said they had things to take care of. And Y/N is left, holding the dirty kitten, wondering what the hell just happened, because what the fuck.
What the fuck!
. . .
Y/N stayed up far too late for someone who needed to be at work this morning. Could you blame her, though? She’d first been humiliated, then went through something incredibly traumatic, and on top of that, had a scared, shivering, starving, and dirty little kitten in her arms. If she had gone to bed at an appropriate time after that, then she’d probably need to be checked in somewhere for a mental exam to make sure she was processing things adequately.
After Harry left her, she decided to focus all of her attention on the baby that he’d left her with. The kitten doesn’t move around much, which yanks at her heart – she was probably so cold and hungry, Y/N needed to figure something out quickly. So she uses her phone to order a variety of cat-related goods, and what started as just essentials turns into treats, toys, and a warming cat bed. It was scheduled to arrive in 30-ish minutes, since she lives pretty close to a pet store, and the delivery drivers are always making laps around the area (she lives close to several grocery stores, too). She makes a mental note to make a vet appointment for tomorrow after work, but before that, she needs to get the dirt and grime off of this stinky kitten.
The bath goes better than she’d expected, but again, it makes her heart hurt that the tiny baby is probably most likely so exhausted and hungry that she has little fight left to give. She puts one of her towels in the warmer that Niall sent her the link to three months ago (that had changed her showering life entirely), and fills her sink with warm, sudsy, shampoo-y water. She scrubbed her carefully, gently, stripping her of the dirt and grime. She drained and replaced the water three separate times before it stopped getting murky as she massaged her newly revealed, gray fur.
She was fluffy and puffy when Y/N dried her with a washcloth at first, getting the majority of the dripping water off of her before she carefully wrapped her in the warm towel. Y/N placed her carefully in the cradle of her lap, then sat in front of the space heater. There was a little rumble at first, which Y/N almost mistook for the heater, but then she felt the lump of towel with a cat head sticking out of it purring, and her heart did another little twitch. The poor thing was so cold and lonely out there, she wanted to cry thinking about it.
Harry had pretty confidently suggested that she should be close to 8 weeks, and Y/N had asked how he knew that before he launched into a whole thing about their eyes, their mobility, how much weight they should be gaining in a month, etc, etc. To be honest, she’d only been half listening, because she was borderline dissociating the whole trip back to her flat, wondering if she’d actually just drunk too much wine and passed out waiting for her date rather than nearly getting kidnapped.
As Y/N set up the litter box, the food and water bowls, and the warm bed, she had decided for sure that she wouldn’t be going to the police about this. Harry’s vague threat was enough to scare her, that’s for sure, and even though he seems like he feels bad, she’s certain he would be comfortable killing if it meant keeping him out of jail. Niall and Aki wouldn’t be hearing about it either, at least not until she knows more about this, or until all of this blows over and a few months (or years) pass, and she’s confident Harry doesn’t have her chipped somewhere. Plus, both of them are such big mouths (she says this endearingly), there was no way they could keep it a secret.
So what happened tonight was between Y/N, the kitten, and Harry. Those would be the only three who knew anything about anything that was going on. Which was alright; Y/N was kind of banking on stuffing this back in the recesses of her mind so she doesn’t get weird about having to pass alleyways or go out on dates that could lead to being stood up.
“It was just a weird, one-time thing,” Y/N was speaking to herself, but also the kitten, who had just eaten some wet food, drank water, and let Y/N place her in the warm cat bed that she placed on her bedside table (she moved her lamp out of the way for now – she just wanted to keep an eye on her, and it was big enough that she wouldn’t fall right off if she rolled around at all), “I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Harry will probably low-key stalk me for a while, realize that I’m not going to say anything, and then leave us alone. Right, kitty?”
That’s what she expected, at least. The following day, Y/N left the kitten in her bathroom with all of the trinkets she bought for her, along with her food, water, and litter box. On the way into work, she scheduled the vet appointment and, thankfully, got in at a good time with her story. Niall meets her at the time clock today, with an extra coffee in hand, and a bag of a pastry dangling out of his mouth. When Y/N grabs it from him so he can talk, he immediately launches into 1000 apologies and threats towards the guy who stood her up.
“Seriously, I’ll put a hit out on him.” Niall unintentionally makes a mockery of her current situation, and the irony of it is almost funny enough that she wants to reveal everything that happened. “What a prick! I tore into Ricky about setting you up with such an asshole.”
Y/N sighed, “You didn’t have to do that, Ni,” she shook her head, “It’s whatever, you know, some people are just stupid. Maybe he just changed his mind and was too embarrassed to cancel.”
“What he should be embarrassed about is his fuck ass CEO position at a pet food company.”
“Weren’t you just hyping him up yesterday for that?”
Niall turned his nose up, “That’s before we found out he was a major dick,” he slid closer to her, so that as they walked, their arms touched. Niall was a touchy-feely guy in general, but it is exacerbated tenfold when he feels bad or guilty about something. She already wasn’t going to tell him about Harry, but if she had been planning to, all of that was thwarted by the way he slid her favorite order in her palm and used his freehand to scratch gently at the nape of her neck. He feels horrible already; if she let him know that she had almost been mistakenly kidnapped and killed, she thinks he’d lose his mind.
“Really, don’t worry about it, okay? I’m okay. I was sad last night, but I’m just –” I’m honestly, happy to be alive – “ – fine, yeah?”
“Okay,” he pouts his mouth, “But if you want to talk about it, you know I’m here, right? Aki too – I had to tell her so she didn’t say something stupid.”
Aki appears suddenly beside them, “I’ve never said a stupid thing a day in my life,” she rebuts, then reaches in to squeeze Y/N’s side, “You know every Baddie has to get stood up at least once or twice? It builds character and makes you extra hot – I read that somewhere, like a Seventeen article or something.”
“Do they even print that anymore?” Niall inquires, still rubbing at the back of Y/N’s neck – she likes it, so she doesn’t tell him to stop – plus, if she got too weird about her neck, he might inspect a little closer and notice the little cut on her skin. She’d already come up with the elaborate ploy to blame it on the kitten and her clunky, clumsy use of her nails.
The rest of her morning is relatively normal. She sets up at her desk, reveals to Aki and subsequently Niall (who at this point should just shack up in a desk near theirs, because he’s over there more than he’s at his own space already) that she had found a kitten after being stood up the night prior, and both gasp. Obviously, they want to come meet her, but Y/N tells them she needs to make sure she’s up to date on her shots and more comfortable before they do. She does show them pictures, though, and they coo and awe at her phone loud enough that their floor manager also comes to look.
They eventually have to work. Y/N answers emails and coordinates dates for different record stores to release an album's special vinyl edition. She worries her lip between her teeth when she starts thinking too much about what happened last night, then shoves it to the back of her head when she decides to focus on the new addition to her flat waiting for her at home. Actually, anytime the flutter of Harry tries to tiptoe back into her head, she swats him like a fly out of it. Imagining a miniature version of the man she met last night flying away from her head after being hit by the miniature guard version of her that patrols her brain – makes her giggle, at least.
It’s around lunchtime that the front desk receptionist shows up at Y/N’s cubicle before she has the chance to flee with Niall and Aki to the cafe down the road. In her hands is a huge bouquet of wildflowers, an assortment of pinks, purples, and periwinkle blues. “These came for you!” She grinned at Y/N, clearly giddied by flowers sent, “I didn’t know you were dating anyone!”
“Oh, I’m not,” Y/N’s brows raised, taking the bouquet by the glass vase, “Ah? Are you sure it’s mine?”
“Positive,” she replied as she started walking away, the front desk phone ringing. “They were sent for you by first and last name.”
Y/N spots a card in the midst of the flowers, nestled between what looks like lavender, and she plucks it from the center. On one side is her name, and on the other is a little note.
Sorry again about last night ( • ᴗ - ) ✧ - H
Her eyes widen as she reads over it, before she quickly stuffs it inside her work bag hanging open at her feet. Thankfully, Aki was in the bathroom, and Niall’s nosy ass was just far enough that she could get away with it before he made it to her desk. It would be too difficult to backpedal and try to explain the card when she’s pretty sure the guy she was supposed to meet did not have a name that began with H. Not only that, the wording suggests that they had spoken with each other and he’d already apologized, which he hadn’t (asshole), and Aki and Niall both already know that. Clearly, Harry doesn’t care if she seems like a liar whose story isn’t straight in front of her friends – that or he’s trying to test her.
“Holy fuck, look at the size of that!” Niall exclaims, dangling over the side of her cubicle again, and Aki lets out her own gasp when she comes back, letting her fingers touch and graze different parts of the plant, “I guess dickhead thought this was going to fix it all, hm? Did he leave a card?”
Y/N shook her head, keeping her gaze locked on the flowers as if she were marveling at them, only because she knew Niall could scan her face and read her lie in 3 seconds flat. “No, this is crazy,” she murmured, because, objectively, it was. To Niall and Aki, it would make sense how the CEO of the pet food guy would know where she worked, because he was Niall’s friend of a friend, and Niall’s friend would have an idea where Niall worked. But to Y/N, who knows that it was the guy who had just pressed a knife to her throat the night prior – she knew there was no way for him to know without him having done something creepy. Whether it was somehow look into her, on whatever weird, fucked up software hitmen have, or he followed her this morning. Both were equally horrible, she feels.
The logical part of her brain told her that he’d basically told her he was going to do this the night before. He literally said I’ll keep in touch – she just hadn’t thought it’d be in the form of apology flowers. Or, well, threatening flowers. She isn’t sure – she couldn’t get a read on that guy at all! Part of her could see where this was a thinly veiled threat disguised as a flowery, spring-y gift, like a ‘See, I know where you work, so you better keep your mouth shut,’ kind of thing. But the other part of her could imagine that, as weirdly apologetic and helpful as he was after the fact, these were a genuine peace offering. She couldn’t decide. How quickly he switched up his attitude once he realized she wasn’t the woman he was after made it hard to tell what kind of person he was. Did he have split personalities? Maybe you had to, to do the work that he does. If she could even tell what that work was – she’s really just guessing.
And what was up with the emoji after?
“Guys always think flowers are going to make up for their shitty disposition,” Aki clicks her tongue, taking the vase out of Y/N’s hand, and setting it on their shared space in between them, “But we needed some garnish for our desk, it’s been looking extra depressing lately. You know, we should really look into decorating it all cutesy.”
“Please do, I reckon we could really liven it up with your Hentai collection.”
Aki rolls her eyes, “I think you mean your Hentai collection, you fucking perv.”
Y/N is thankful for her friend’s varying levels of attention deficits that get the heat off her quicker. The back of her neck feels hot, and she feels a curl in her stomach – it feels wrong to lie to them, but it felt like she didn’t have much of a choice. It was either that or Harry would probably kill her, so she’s sure that they would understand if it came down to it. The note that he sent is burning a hole through her bag; she can practically feel it radiating heat. Her fingers itch to grab it, but what would it matter if she did? Rereading it wouldn’t help – it’s not like there would be some clue or something.
She needs to view it as a weird, hybrid apology/threat and go about her day.
So that’s what she does. The rest of her day is as normal as the first half had been before lunch, and her boss lets her leave a little early for the vet appointment. She beats the evening rush of people going home on the subway, then makes it to her flat in record time, all without being accosted by some random criminal. The kitten is happy to see her, chirping and meowing loudly when she opens the door to greet her. Last night, she had purchased a small, collapsible crate, and she coaxed the kitten inside it with treats, then stuffed Y/N’s winter scarf inside so that she could smell it.
The vet went well – better than she thought for a stray kitty. Y/N finds out that she is, in fact, a girl. They did a flea check, and there were none, thank god, because Y/N had not considered that a possibility when she let her sleep beside her bed. Preventative dewormers, a broad-spectrum antibiotic for what they told her was a respiratory infection, an ointment for her left eye that was looking red during the exam, a vaccine schedule for the coming months, and a day to be spayed. They also give her an idea of what sort of food would be best for her, concerning her age and other factors. Y/N appreciates that they aren’t trying to force her into purchasing the food they have at the counter. There’s also a new patient sign-on bonus and a discount for stray care (since they require more interventions than a run-of-the-mill adoption, but they want to encourage people to help strays on the street).
Leaving the vet, Y/N felt a lot better about the situation. She was going to stop at the pet store again, to get the food they suggested, though she was starting to panic about how she was going to carry all of this home. Y/N had the (now) sleeping cat in the crate, a bag full of meds, and the thought of adding a huge thing of food to that seems just horrific.
Whether by the grace of the universe or as another slap to her face, she hears an all too familiar voice.
“Oh, good, you took her to the vet,” Y/N whips her head around to see Harry, but he looks much different than he did during their first meeting. No dark clothes and black hoodie, no black mask, and no knife – at least none that she could see. He probably has it strapped to his ankle or something, “I was worried you’d just drop her off at a shelter or something. There are plenty of no-kill ones in the area, but you know, sweet kittens can get lost in the cracks there sometimes.”
When he reaches out to let the kitten sniff his hands, Y/N pulls the carrier closer to her, regarding him doubtfully, “What are you doing here?” She inquires, “You don’t have to follow me, I’m not going to tell.”
Harry’s brows raise, “Huh? I’m not following you. I was getting a tea,” he holds up the boba cup in his left hand, shaking it around, then reaches into his pocket and produces a punch card, with ten cups scribbled out, “I come here all the time, it’s my favorite. This was my 10th one, so the next time it’s free. You can ask Gladys, I’m her favorite customer.”
She relaxes a little – there’s something about Harry that is very convincing. . .she doesn’t know. Maybe it’s a part of his job to be convincing, whatever his specific job title is. He seems so unsuspecting and normal right now, Y/N is starting to wonder if she’d hallucinated the whole attempted kidnapping and knife to throat part. How could this guy, who is in a white shirt with a lamb on it, a zipped-up windbreaker, and athletic shorts, be the same person she’d met last night? He’s got sunglasses pressing his hair up and out of his face, and in this light, his eyes are very green. Really, the only suspicious-looking thing about him was the fact that he had a small bag strapped across his body, which really could be holding anything. It was decorated with pins and keychains, though. Would someone really keep something nefarious in a bag that had a patchwork cat with big button eyes dangling off the side of it?
“Oh,” she replied, “Well, after the flowers I just thought – I don’t know.”
“The flowers,” Harry repeated, tilting his head, “You didn’t like them? But you had wildflowers on your doormat?”
She blinked, “No, I liked them! They were pretty, but I just thought you sending them to my job was like a threat or something.”
His eyes went wide again, “A threat? Jeez, you are very distrusting. Which is wise, sure, but you should be just a little more trusting sometimes, your life would be much more lax.” It was a crazy thing to say, all things considered, but he continued as if he didn’t realize how stupid what he just said was, “Your hands are kind of full? Do you need help?”
Would it be stupid to agree to this? Of course it would – this man is probably dangerous! He is dangerous, and she doesn’t know the extent of what he could do or to whom he does it. But it’s like. . .he already knows where she lives. And the thought of lugging a 6kg bag of food around, plus her work bag, plus the cat, and all her meds. . .it just seems like a lot, really. She also thinks that if he was going to actually hurt her, he would’ve done it in the dark alleyway that he found her in, and not in broad daylight outside of a boba place and an animal clinic.
“Actually, would you help me carry this home? I need to stop at the pet store and get food for her. They think she should be on a semi-special diet – one for sensitive tummies.”
He easily took the crate from her hands, fixing his fingers around the straps at the top, “Ahh, I see – they probably put her on a lot of meds, right? Sometimes those antibiotics can be really harsh on the stomach.”
“Yeah,” she told him as they started walking – the pet store wasn’t very far, and she’d really prefer not to walk in silence, honestly, it’d give her way too much time to think. And right now she can’t really think, or she’ll overthink, so she just talks – maybe she’d even be able to get some information out of him. Not that she really needs anything. She doesn’t want to be involved, but she’d just like to know how involved he’s actually going to be with her, so that it could settle her mind. “Um, do you know a lot about cats?”
Harry turns and looks at her with a smile, nodding, “I foster them from time-to-time,” he explains, “Every couple of months. But then I get attached. They’re usually medically complex, so they need a lot of time and attention and love, and when work gets busy, I’m unable to provide all they need, so I don’t adopt them officially, even though I really want to.”
“Oh, that. . .was not what I was expecting,” Y/N thought he’d admit to growing up with a cat or something – maybe saving a stray once a long time ago, or knowing a friend of a friend who did. She guesses it makes sense, though, how comfortably he’d been cradling the kitten to his chest the night before. And she was surprised to find that there were fluctuations in his work, but this at least gave her an opening to ask, “So, I’m not trying to be nosy or anything, but what is it that you do, exactly?”
Harry hums low, tucks the straw into the corner of his mouth, and takes a drink. It doesn’t seem like he’s stalling, though. “Well, officially, and as far as the government and my family are concerned, I work remotely as a financial advisor for some of the wealthier people in the area. I got my degree in finance with an emphasis on business administration.”
Y/N slides her work back from her left shoulder to her right, rolling out the tension that had started to form from having it hooked and heavy over her arm for so long, “And unofficially?” She prompts, and the corner of Harry’s lips twitches in something of a soft smile.
“Ah, there really isn’t a name for that.” He tells her, “Just some part-time stuff.”
She blinks at him, “I guess I was just wondering how much this part-time stuff was going to involve like. . .like watching me, or whatever.” Y/N gently prods, “I understand why you have to, I guess, but just – like knowing what you’re doing and when you’re doing it would make me feel a little better about it all. At least I think it will.”
Harry is quiet for a moment, like he’s contemplating his response. Finally, it seems like he’s having an appropriate response to the situation, though his gentle and overall flippant, calm, and otherwise friendly attitude has kept her calmer than she thinks she would have been otherwise. There’s something about him that is just. . .it makes her let her guard down, a little – she can feel it. Y/N doesn’t even know if she’d have felt comfortable enough to let the CEO come with her to the petstore, yet here she is with this stranger. A stranger, who was probably far more threatening than he let on.
“Again, I’m telling you a lot here,” he finally began, “Only because I feel so bad for what happened last night. The fact that you got stood up and got mixed up in shitty, rich people bullshit. I just have to track you for a little while; it would make the people I work for feel a lot better, and I’d rather it be me than them sending someone else. Especially since I’m the one who got you involved in all of this.” He waves his hands around, motioning like he was referring to the bigger picture, but ends up bopping the kitten around a bit in her crate, “So, full disclosure: I’m tracking calls and texts, and I know when you leave your flat and where you’re going! Otherwise, I’m leaving you be.” He smiles like it’s something to be proud of, and something that she should appreciate. “Today, though, I really wasn’t following you. I’d already been getting my tea when you showed up, and I wanted to greet you to check-in. If I were really following you and didn’t want you to know, then you wouldn’t.”
That was an unsettling note to end it on, for sure, “I – uh. . .I appreciate the honesty,” she nods, swallowing.
Harry sighs, almost comically, dragging a thumb across his brow, “Ah, you’re so understanding! I’m glad we got that settled; it was kind of eating away at me, too,” he replied, “Anyway, I’d suggest staying away from that CEO; he’s under a lot of scrutiny right now, by a lot of angry rich men – definitely not the place to be. I’m one of the kinder options of my colleagues, so it would be a shame if someone else mistook you for Antonyia.” He tucked his cup between his bicep and chest before using his newly free hand to squeeze her shoulder, and Y/N tenses under the grip but doesn’t pull away. “Anyway, what are you going to name her?”
“Pardon?” Y/N’s head is reeling, her thoughts tied up in disjointed knots.
“The baby?” Harry holds up the crate, “Her name? Have you given it any thought?”
Y/N finally registered what he was asking her and shook her head, “Ah, no, I haven’t,” she answered honestly, “I’ve just been so focused on getting her settled that a name has completely slipped from my mind.”
A gentle hum leaves Harry, almost sounding like a purr himself, but then she realizes the kitten is purring in her crate, and when Y/N peers through the side window, she sees her kneading the scarf she has in there. Her heart felt soft as Harry spoke, “Let’s name her Muffy.”
“Muffy?” Y/N tilted her head, “Do you mean Miffy? Like the rabbit.”
“No, silly, I mean Muffy. Like a Muffy.”
The kitten stretches up to the little window and presses the soft, new skin of toe beans up against the wall. They had somehow stayed so soft, even after her rough life on the streets, and Y/N thinks that’s nice. Really, the only indication that she had been in an alleyway the night before was the small tear in the thin skin of her ear. Her big eyes either plead with her to not name her Muffy or to keep the name Muffy – she really doesn’t know.
“Okay,” Y/N agreed, “Muffy it is.”
“Yay! Muff for short,” he smiled, “And when she hops off the bed during midnight zoomies, we can call it Muff Diving.”
Y/N doesn’t know who this “we” is, but she lets it go as they walk into the pet store.
It was interesting. Harry suggested a cart because, allegedly, they couldn’t just come here to get pet food and nothing else. He was telling her all of the things that she needed with the bag of food. More toys that are “mentally stimulating”, a small cat treat, scratchers for her nails, a special brand of shampoo, and conditioner. He loads her cart, all while talking her ear off about how important every one of these items is to ensure success for Muffy’s life. Y/N has no choice but to believe him, all things considered – he did allegedly foster cats and seemed pretty knowledgeable about it all. And since he would be there to help carry, she was okay with it. The only slightly off-putting thing he said the whole trip was when they were near the beds and he murmured, “You’ve already got one of those, so we’re good here.” Which meant – yeah, for sure, he was somehow in her phone – but she tries not to think about that.
He carries all the heavy things while she carries the kitten and the lesser full bags. Harry doesn’t complain, and she thinks that if his jacket were off, his biceps would be bulging out of his sleeves. They felt big last night when they were wrapped around her at least, and she was, for the most part, immobile. He barely breaks a sweat on the entire walk to her car, or when they discover the elevator is down and have to trek up the stairwell.
Once they get to her flat, he politely turns his head when she punches the code into her keypad and then only steps inside the very front door to set the things on the floor.
“Ah, thanks for letting me tag along,” he smiles, as if he’d asked to go, “Anyway, I’ve got somewhere to be like –” he checks his watch, “30 minutes ago. Do you mind if I set a camera up outside your door?”
“Um, a little?”
Harry gives a nod, “You’re right. Okay, bye!”
Y/N unzips Muffy, who ambles out of her carrier and then stares at Y/N with eyes that could only suggest Hey, what the hell is up with that guy?
“I don’t know, Muffy,” she clicks her tongue, “Let's get you fed.”
. . .
The coming weeks were uneventful.
Work was busy as ever, but that’s to be expected. As the rollout for one album progressed, they started the beginnings of marketing for another, so the team was divided in half, heavying the workload on both ends. Their days were so jam-packed with meetings, calls, creating playlists that include new singles, and promotion of an upcoming tour – that Niall could only stop by Y/N and Aki’s desk 30 times, which is far less than his typical 93 a day. Everyone is a little miserable, but their trio especially, because they have been afforded no time to be even a little silly. Aki, every so often, will take one of her hair clips off her head and scrape it against Y/N’s scalp to clip it, which offers three giggles before they are reduced to silence again. Y/N has been halfway arguing with the production team of a talk show to briefly mention the album, because there are two separate covers, and for some reason they are stuck on the risque one being too much for TV (“Which is why you would use the single’s album artwork, as discussed in the prior email.”).
So, yeah, work sucks, but it shoves all of what happened last month to the back of her head like a distant memory. The only proof that it had occurred was Muffy toddling around her flat, now done with her antibiotics and becoming more and more comfortable with the space (Y/N has even taken to letting her roam around the flat in her absence rather than shutting her away in the bathroom when she’s at work). Otherwise, she hadn’t heard from Harry or seen him, which she doesn’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. He had told her that she wouldn’t know if he was following her or not, which she thought would make her more nervous, but it turns out she really doesn’t care. It’s not even like she feels prickles on the back of her neck or anything. Either Harry is really sneaky, or he’s too busy to be following her at all.
Even the little scar on her neck had since faded, replaced by many scars on her hands and thighs from someone who isn’t in the best control of their claws yet (her name rhymed with Tuffy). The flowers he’d sent had withered and wilted, so Aki threw them out, and the card he’d sent with them, Y/N, had tucked somewhere on her desk at home, so it was surely lost. It really did seem like just a bad dream. Or a very vivid, wine-induced hallucination.
On a Friday, she, Niall, and Aki go for drinks. They needed it, for sure; their clock-out time is typically 5 PM, but the three of them ended up staying until closer to 7, merely because they’re good friends and excellent coworkers. Y/N and Aki were pretty much finished up with their end of the marketing for the newly released album, but the other project that Niall’s team got placed on was still in the working phases, and at its most difficult when promoting the single of a relatively new artist. It was always a little harder to get different ads and influencers on board advertising someone that they weren’t familiar with. However, Niall was in luck to have two friends deeply invested in social media, who knew that someone making a really good edit to a song was a sure-fire way to get people interested. So long as they had a clip of it that they could utilize.
Still, contacting the artist’s team to get a clip of the song takes time, explaining their thought process takes time, and then hoping that whatever college student is pouring their heart and soul into editing their favorite celebrities in high definition is willing to bite. They eat there, ordering takeout for themselves and the janitorial staff on their floor that stays late. Niall, who had been in desperate need of physical contact for the past couple of weeks, was practically glued to her and Aki at every move they made. At some point, he was practically in Y/N’s lap while she was on the phone because he knew that she couldn’t tell him to shove off.
The extra time together hadn’t been enough, she guesses, because all of them are game to go out afterward. Especially when Niall tells them that the bar closest to them has half-priced drinks until 10 PM.
Y/N is about two drinks in (and two drinks short of being ready to have this happen) when her phone buzzes on the table in front of them. She sees that it’s a text from the contact STUPID DUMB FUCKING PET FOOD GUY (it used to just be ‘pet food guy’, but after that night, she’d changed it in a fit of rage), and her heart drops to her stomach.
I’m so sorry about the other night. Something came up that I had to take care of, and time got away from me.
I should have messaged you, though, sooner, but I was embarrassed.
Would you let me make it up to you? Are you free sometime next week?
“Who’s messaging you?” Aki hooks her chin over Y/N’s shoulder, squinting (she desperately needs to renew her contact prescription but refuses) at her screen, which garners Niall’s attention, who also leans into Y/N’s space, “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”
Niall’s brows furrowed, “Is he joking? That was literally last month! That’s so obnoxious. Give me the phone so I can call him a dumb fuck.”
“I’m. . .wow. That’s – wow. Men actually might be the stupidest things to walk this planet.” Y/N blinks at her phone, “I’m going to turn my read receipts on, so he sees I saw it.”
Aki and Niall are nodding, “Yes, yes,” they agreed, then Aki goes on to say, “C’mon, Ni, let's get her more drinks. We’re getting you more drinks and a basket of fries.”
“Why do I have to go?”
“Because we’re putting it on your tab, babe.”
Y/N is left at the table, angrily putting her read receipts on. It’s so stupid, honestly, because he was indirectly responsible for her almost getting killed and halfway getting stalked over it! He was also indirectly responsible for Muffy, which pisses her off, because she refuses to give him credit for anything good in her life. And her sweet little Muffy is the light of her life.
Her phone buzzes again, and she suspects that it’s the CEO (what was his real name again?), but it’s an unknown number. Y/N’s brows dip, and now she’s squinting at her screen in a similar way to Aki.
Wow, what a douchebag.
Do you want me to block him for you? I can sign him up for the church of Scientology while I’m at it.
Y/N has a feeling deep in her loins that this is Harry. He had told her that he was inside of her phone – honestly, he’s probably the most honest man in her life next to Niall, and she’s only met him twice in person. Honestly, Y/N should probably be more worked up about that, but at this point, she’s more worked up about this guy thinking he could message her a month after the fact, and she would answer him and go out. What the hell does he even want to do with her anyway? It’s not like she’s a model, a millionaire, and he’s got no indication whether or not she has a good personality – so what would possess him to message her?
She could ignore Harry’s message, but she doesn’t. Y/N lets her fingers slide across the keyboard while Aki and Niall are busy, because as much as she loves them, they are very nosy and in her business, so they’re always reading over her shoulder. Y/N’s lucky his message was sent when it did rather than when they were still over here, because she has no idea how she would have explained that.
Hahahahaha, I know right, he’s a fucking prick
I’ll block him later. I sort of want to see if he explains himself
The Scientology thing would be cool tho
Harry hearts the message. Y/N clicks out of the thread just as Aki and Niall are returning, and Aki already has a fry tucked between her teeth, “Baby, they gave us two baskets!” She cheers at her, sliding them onto the table, “Has he messaged anymore? We saw you on your phone.”
Y/N shook her head, “No, I was just on Twitter,” she lied, a little bit of guilt welling in her belly. She really didn’t like lying to them, but she has to move on. “Should we eat these and then go dance? My bones feel jittery, like they need to move.”
“Oh my god, yes,” Aki breathes a sigh through his nose, “That sounds beautiful. Do you think the DJ takes requests? I’ve always wanted to close my eyes and exist in the same sphere as Charlie XCX blasting since BRAT summer.”
“You’re in luck, it’s a jukebox, not a DJ – we need to download the app though.”
Y/N is still able to have fun – that isn’t a hard feat with the two she’s with, that’s for sure, but there’s still something niggling at the back of her head. She just can’t brush it off. How weird it is that he’d choose now to send her a message? Was he really just that stupid? Had he forgotten about her entirely, and then the guilt of it clawed at the back of his throat? She really didn’t think he even knew her enough to feel guilty about it, if she’s honest. It was just weird is all. Like an ex that messages you when they sense your emotional stability is a little too well-balanced.
Harry must think it’s odd, too, for him to message her. He’s weird, sure, and she hadn’t heard from him for about a month either, but had he suspected this was her involvement in something greater, Y/N doesn’t think he would have messaged her. He would have let her respond and seen how the conversation went, then probably do away with her for lying to him if it seemed in any way sketchy. Though at this point, Y/N thinks Harry could be fairly confident she had nothing to do with anything that he initially thought. She also thinks he could be pretty certain she wasn’t going to go to the police about this, either, at this point.
Y/N was content on pretending that all of it never happened, and gaslighting herself into believing that she’d found Muffy in a completely normal, sane, work-friendly story way.
They actually don’t stay out very late. By the time they’re leaving, Y/N and Aki had sobered up a fair amount, but Niall was about ten sheets to the wind. It sucks, because those two take a different subway than she does to her home stop, and she really didn’t want to go alone. But she didn’t want to leave Muffy home alone for the night just yet, and already felt like she was damaging the poor cat’s psyche by not coming home the time she usually does. And as fun as it was to wrestle a still ready to party Niall out of his outside clothes and into bed, she desperately wanted to be submerged in the bathtub and then snuggled in her bed. She’d just washed her sheets last night, so they were still fresh and smelling like fabric softener.
Everything was okay until she and the others actually had to split ways. Then, when Y/N was on a subway car by herself (save for a handful of other strangers surrounding her, all various states of disarray, from just about to start their night to clearly ending it), she starts to get paranoid. She really does not like taking the subway by herself, but it’s either a well-lit underground cart or she’s trekking more than 5km home alone in the dark. And Y/N would rather take her chances with a couple of drug-induced waves of hysteria surrounded by equally dumbfounded strangers.
Even after getting off the subway, she has a couple of blocks to walk before she’s at her flat building. Fridays were typically busier, but she still didn’t live in the most exciting part of town, so even being busy was a little too empty for her liking. The click of her shoes against the pavement echoes hauntingly, and the sound of her breath is too loud. She can hear the rapid thud of her heartbeat. It’s a little too similar to last month, when all of this started, only it was much warmer in the night than it had been then. She doesn’t see the smoky plumes of her breath in front of her mouth this time, but she still curls her arms around her upper half anyway.
Her phone is fixed in a tight grip. She would call Aki, but she knows they’re still in the subway and the service is shit on their route. Y/N swallows thickly and looks back behind her, wondering why her city didn’t seem to believe in an obscene amount of street lights and advertisements with huge, bright LED lettering. It would make her feel a lot better about traveling.
Y/N keeps looking behind her, though, and when she spots someone a few meters behind her, her heart starts racing faster. She doesn’t know if he has anything to do with anything, but her brain has convinced her that he totally does. And he isn’t the same frame or stature as what she remembered Harry was, even when most of his body was hidden in all his bulky clothes. This guy wears a similar black hoodie and hat, from what she can tell. She swallows hard again, dragging her gaze ahead of herself again. She passes a couple leaning against the brick of a closed bakery, sharing a cigarette whose scent burns its way through her nose. Y/N could have stopped with them, pretended to bum a smoke off them, and see if the mysterious, cloaked in a black hoodie figure, kept moving along, but she decided against it. What if it is one of Harry’s deranged coworkers, and she gets two innocent strangers involved in her mess? Then she’d be no better than the dick fuck that got her interwoven in it.
Clutching her phone, Y/N doesn’t spare too many thoughts about what she does next. The idea of it had popped into her head as soon as she was feeling paranoid, but it also seemed kind of crazy to do. It’s not like she could entirely trust him, either, but for whatever reason, her chances felt better with him rather than the guy behind her, all things considered. The glass on her screen has condensation from her sweaty palm as she clicks on her message thread and finds where Harry had sent her the text, right at the top. She has no clue if this is his actual number or not, but she clicks it anyway, lets it take her to the contact screen, and presses the phone icon to call.
It rings twice before it clicks over, Harry’s voice low and a little syrupy, “Hello?” He sounded groggy, almost – had he been asleep? Y/N twists around to look behind her again, and the stranger is not holding a phone to his ear and muffling his voice at all. Both hands are still in their pocket, suspiciously, “Y/N? What’s wrong?”
“One of your colleagues wouldn’t happen to be following me, right?” Y/N cut right to it, feeling like there was no time to beat around the bush, “Like, do you guys have a standard uniform of black hoodie, black beanie, or was that just a you thing?”
Harry makes a noise in his throat, “I only wore that because I wanted to completely disappear into the alleyway. Otherwise, wearing all black like that can be more suspicious than anything.” Y/N thinks she can hear the sound of a mattress on the other end, or maybe a sofa. Something settling beneath the shift of weight, definitely, “As far as I’m concerned, nobody should be following you at all. I’m assigned to you as of now, since it was my fault you got involved. The others thought it’d be better to pay you off or do away with you at first, but I convinced them otherwise.”
Her stomach turns, “Yeah, well, I don’t know if I’m being paranoid or if someone is actually following me, but I’m feeling –” scared, “--annoyed. Like, if someone is following me right now, that’s so annoying.”
“Where are you? I’ll come get you.”
“No, it’s fine, I just – will you just stay on the phone for a second? Until I know whether or not this is something to be panicking over?”
Harry hums, softly, “Yes, of course,” he replies, “I’ll stay on with you until you get home, yeah?”
She’s quiet for a second, turning to look behind her again, and her shoulders sag when she watches the guy pausing to light a cigarette, the ember glowing in the dark as he waits at the bottom of a stoop. The door opens – Y/N can hear the greeting of someone from far away, and Y/N sees a woman hook her purse over her arm as she shuts and locks the door behind her. She probably looks creepy, gawking from afar like this, but she watches them link hands and turn in the opposite direction from her.
Y/N sighs into the phone, “Fuck,” she gives a breathless laugh, and Harry hums a little.
“What? What is it?”
“It was just some random guy,” she admits, turning back around and walking with a little less tension-ridden muscles than she had been, “God, who just walks around in a black hoodie with it up? It’s like – early spring, it’s nice out right now!
“Ah, men are weird,” Harry tells her, “Reckon it’s programmed in most of them to unintentionally look like the sketchiest person when they’re just walking down the street. There needs to be a course in schools about how not to look menacing.”
Y/N huffed a laugh, “Yeah, I – thank you, for that. Sorry to call – did I wake you up?”
“Don’t worry about it! Really, it’s the least I can do,” he drops something on the other end of the line, and it thuds – he murmurs a cuss under his breath about a shoe, then grunts when she assumes he bends down to pick it up, “I fell asleep on the couch, yeah. I was up late last night.”
Her mind starts racing immediately. Y/N imagines Harry in several scenarios, all in rapid succession. Him sneaking along the perimeter of some billionaire’s estate, lurking until he finds a faulty spot in the security system, and crawls through an open window. Him in some abandoned warehouse, in the middle of a shootout, where he’s hidden behind barrels of who knows what. Him on a dock, beating information out of someone, pulling off fingernails until he admits that there was a under the books deal with Friskies cat treats or something.
“Oh, was it... work-related?”
Would he tell her? Was he allowed to? Did someone listen to his phone conversations? Y/N is still pretty confused about what the hell it was he was doing. When she’d asked before, Harry made it sound like he was just some part-timer helping out with odd jobs, not interwoven with some sketchy crime syndicate.
“Not at all,” he replied easily, “I got caught up watching Stranger Things and finishing out the last season. Hated how it ended, though, so then I stayed up watching video essays about it online.”
That was. . .not what she expected. Harry is quite full of surprises.
She laughs a little again, “Yeah, I saw a lot of people weren’t happy with it,” she scratches the side of her neck, just below her jawbone, “Alright, I won’t keep you on. I’m sorry for waking you again.”
“No, don’t apologize, seriously. And keep me on the phone,” he added, “At least until you get home safely. Tell me about my sweet Muffy. Is she adjusting well?”
Y/N stays on the phone with him, because honestly, she hadn’t wanted to hang up at all; she’d just been trying to be considerate. At least in this moment, in her slightly tipsy state, something is soothing about his voice on the phone. Even if this very same voice had threatened her not too long ago, his drawl is slow and thoughtful, like he’s choosing his words carefully. He listens well, asks the right questions, and does not give off ‘finance bro’ vibes at all, which is refreshing (their finance team at work is the worst, honestly, like leftover greek row alumni that wouldn’t let their fraternity days go – Niall had fucked his way through at least half of them at this point, and they all sucked. . .literally and figuratively).
This definitely wasn’t healthy or probably appropriate, but neither was any of this, so – she thought it was okay to use this weird dynamic for her advantage just this one time. Y/N felt safer on the phone, and Harry seemed okay with staying on it, all the way until she was in front of her door.
“I see you made it home,” he noted, “Do you feel safe now?”
Y/N’s brows furrowed, “How’d you know I made it home? Hey, I thought I told you not to put a camera out here.”
“I didn’t! I just have your location, remember?”
“Oh yeah, my bad,” she giggles again, typing in her keycode and slipping into her flat, really feeling all the tension leaving her joints and muscles the moment she locks her door, slips the bar lock closed at the top, and then uses her additional, portable door lock as a tertiary line of defense. “Yeah, I’m okay now. Thank you again for staying on the phone with me.”
“Again, don’t even mention it,” she can imagine him waving his hands, like he’s brushing her gratitude to the side – he gesticulates quite often when he speaks, or at least he did in their brief meetings, “I’m glad you made it home safely. Give Muffy lots of kisses from me.”
When they get off the phone, Y/N finds herself. . .kind of wishing they had stayed on. Which is crazy. She tries to convince herself that she only wishes they would’ve, so she could have poked his brain on why he thinks the CEO would have messaged her randomly tonight, but she knows that isn’t the case. Honestly, she’d forgotten all about that when they were just talking.
Y/N had always considered herself the more well-adjusted of her friends, but she’s starting to find that hard to believe now. There’s no way a well-adjusted person would be reacting to this situation like this, she thinks. Hell, tonight was the first time she’d felt genuine fear since it all started, and she’s certain she probably should have been feeling paranoia and worry to that extent this entire time.
But there is something about Harry and knowing that he was watching her, to some degree, that was. . .disarming, she thinks, is the word for it. Maybe it was the blatant honesty that gave her a sense of security in him, whether it was false or not. She isn’t sure, and she thinks that if she looks too deeply into it, it’ll drive her crazy.
So she chooses to ignore it instead. Muffy greets her in the living room, and when she plucks her up, she presses kisses to the top of her head.
. . .
Y/N is shit at bowling.
Like, seriously, she’s the worst at it. Somehow, she gets roped into a bowling extravaganza every month by Niall, who owns his own platinum blue bowling ball that was customized to the shape of his very hand. When he’d first mentioned liking bowling, Y/N told him she enjoyed it too, but they were talking about two very different types. Y/N enjoyed the kind where you’re with your friends, silly names on the board, negging each other for bumper balls, and finding creative ways to roll the ball down the lane. Niall enjoyed the competitive, you’re against strangers, critiquing techniques, and the toe of your shoe better not cross that line type of bowling.
Y/N found out his approach to the sport was far different than her own, and while she was imagining Niall putting a name like Monster Cock on the scoreboard and sneaking in a flask of tequila, he was wondering where Y/N’s custom ball was. She never did come clean about what she suspected, mostly because he just seemed to happy to have someone to practice with, before his competitions. Even when he found out Y/N was horrible at it, he was stoked to create a proper training regimen to help her get better. And to see the fruits of his labor when she got her first (completely accidental) strike? Y/N doesn’t think he’s ever been so proud of her.
It makes Y/N happy to make Niall smile. For as obnoxious as he was, he was her very first friend when she started at this company three years ago, feeling battered and beaten from her last job, and coming out of a ridiculously convoluted situationship. Her first day on, the woman who trained her (who has since left the job, thankfully) ripped her a new one about how she formatted emails and her less-than-proficient use of Excel (even though use of Excel had not been on the job description and she’d even been honest with them during her interview, that she knew bare minimum and they still hired her!), and Y/N’s only option was to find somewhere to cry during her lunch break.
There was a spot on the fourth floor that Y/N thought would be very popular among the workers there. It was set up like a cafe, almost, with a self-serve station and a basket of snacks that were routinely swapped out for new ones. They also had a microwave, a hot water spout, tea bags, and various syrups of all different flavors to mix in your coffee. There were windows, very big and slanted, that took up the entirety of one wall, which always had plenty of light pouring into it from the outside world. That’s what Y/N thought would have been the selling point to get people sitting in the booths and tables they had set up here.
But in this particular spot, not only was the service bad, but during the extremes of weather – either very hot, or very cold – the windows made sure you felt every bit of it. On nicer days, sometimes there’s a couple of people, but enough below-freezing days and sweltering hot mornings have steered people clear of it. So during her lunch break, she charges her ass up there, finds the booth in the furthest corner, and tucks herself away to cry. It just turns out that Niall, who had only started a year before her, also storms up there to have a good cry. And when they are confronted with the other one, all teary eyes and frowning faces, because it turns out that their floor is not kind to new orientees.
So he scooted into the seat across from her, a big pouted lip as he wiped away the tears in his eyes, “Lorraine is a huge bitch.” He tells her, sniffling, “She’s shitty with all her orientees, so don’t take it to heart.”
Y/N nodded, knuckling at her left eye, leaving the side of her finger all wet, “And Victor has a stick up his ass, I heard he’s always too hard on new people.” She’s referring to Niall’s trainer. They both giggled, shared a muffin, and then exchanged numbers and have been in each other’s business ever since. (And Aki was trained by Y/N, who had been a year in and not feeling like an imposter too much anymore, so she made sure to give her a far better experience. Aki still cried, but that was because Y/N was being too reassuring when she screwed something up, and she’s got some intense ‘former prodigy child’ stuff to work through.)
There are no secrets between them, not really, but keeping Niall out of the loop of Harry has been making her feel pretty guilty lately. So when Niall told her it was about time for his yearly bowling competition and he needed to start training, Y/N obviously offered to go with him. He always wipes the floor with her, but she tries her best, and they do have fun, even when Niall gets weirdly serious about her technique.
So that’s where they are now – at the newly renovated bowling alley that was equipped with an arcade that she and Niall would definitely stop at and try to get stuffies from the claw machines. The food is pretty good here too, and after a particularly gruelling match (Niall almost doubles her score), he’ll treat her to a milkshake. They won’t actually eat the burgers like they used to because then they have all of fifteen minutes to get home before they shit themselves.
It’s the usual crowd here on a Saturday morning. There’s a birthday party taking up the last two lanes on the left, which accounts for most of the bowlers here today. Other than about 10 kids and a couple of parents, there was a group of six people with greying hair in the classic bowling button-ups that Y/N is surprised Niall doesn’t own one of. The later into the night, the crazier and more hectic this place gets, with teenagers and tweens, because you only have to be above 12 to enter without an adult, so they run amok here. For that reason, she and Niall come bright and early when they’re all still sleeping in because no matter how much older they get, the age range of 12-17 is scary as hell, and Y/N will not be getting bullied on her day off work.
For the quieter atmosphere, it makes it easy for Y/N to people-watch while Niall is taking his turn. It always takes him at least 30 seconds to a minute (sometimes two, if it seems particularly difficult, like two pins on adjacent sides of the lane) to decide how he’s going to throw it, so she keeps herself busy. Since the classic button-up wearers were pretty chill, just taking their turns and chatting amongst themselves, Y/N was watching the party. The kids were well-behaved, everyone politely taking their turn, and only seeming a little zany while they were sitting and waiting. One of them had a birthday crown and a sash. Two of them were dancing around in a circle, but it was confined to their area, and they weren’t very loud. Y/N would think it was a church group, but usually they all have a matching shirt. And she’s pretty sure she saw one of the adults smoking outside when they came in.
One of the adults was clearly the birthday girl’s mom, because she wore a shirt with the birthday girl’s face on it, which was quite cute. Her hair was pulled out of her face, and she was smiling pleasantly. Two of the adults were talking animatedly off to the side, one of them waving their hands, their eyebrows lifting in shock at whatever the person in front of them had said. One of them was on their phone, with a dupe LV case that Y/N only knows is a dupe because she spent an hour one night watching a video of a girl pointing out all the things that help you spot a real from a fake (like she had money to be buying Louis Vuitton in the first place – she just liked to be in everyone’s business). And then one adult was Harry, who was staring at her.
…
Huh.
Yeah, there he is. He also has a shirt with the birthday girl’s face on it, and Y/N’s eyes widen – holy fuck, did he have a daughter? Were he and this lady together? Did she know that her husband and/or boyfriend and/or baby daddy was threatening people in alleyways? Did Y/N have a duty to tell her, or was she supposed to mind her business for once in her life?
She can’t stop staring, mouth falling agape. Niall’s presence is sudden beside her, and she almost screams when he starts talking, looking to her side to find his gaze already trained across from them, “Okay, what hot dad are you looking at?”
“I’m not,” she shook her head, turning her body so that she wasn’t facing them directly, “I think we just locked eyes or something.”
“Okay, well, you must’ve had ‘come over here’ in your gaze because he’s headed this way.”
“What?” Y/N exclaimed, turning again to see him, and lo and behold, he was stepping over one of the kids sitting criss-cross on the ground, on his way to them. What was he doing? Wasn’t this stupid? Y/N’s pretty sure he was supposed to act like he didn’t know her, and they would go on their merry way. Doesn’t he know how bad she is at lying?
The closer Harry gets, the nearer Y/N can see he’s already showing a dimple. “Hey!” He greets her familiarly, “Weird to run into you here.”
Y/N opens her mouth, but Niall starts speaking before she can fumble through her own acknowledgement, “And who might you be?” He inquired, head tilting, “I’ve studied every single one of Y/N’s followers and following on Instagram, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen your face.”
Harry doesn’t even seem startled by Niall, though he comes off quite strong, “Oh, I really don’t have social media,” he answers smoothly.
“Hm. In a weird, ‘I’m better than it way’, or an ‘old soul’ way?”
Harry seemed to chew over the thought before settling on, “In a ‘I don’t know what I’m doing with it and my pictures always come out kind of shitty’ way.”
“Very well,” Niall likes that answer, “Proceed. Who are you?”
“I’m Harry,” he smiles, “I – “ almost kidnapped her instead of this woman named Antoniya on that blind date you set her up with a month and a half ago, “-- know Y/N from UNI. We were in the same Psych lecture.”
“Yes!” Y/N finally spoke, agreeing, nodding her head, because whether Harry had actually dug into her past or not, he had said the perfect thing, “You remember, Ni – I’ve talked about him before?” There was a guy she mentioned every so often, from her psych lecture, who was cute and had a pretty smile. She only mentions him because she had a wet dream about him like two years ago, but it was so filthy it stuck with her.
Niall’s eyes went wide, “Ohhhhhh, that one? The hot guy?” Y/N forgets, though, that Niall doesn’t have a filter. And even though this is not the same man, her stomach still drops all the same when he says it, and Harry chuckles warmly.
“I didn’t know that you – um – that you had a kid?” Y/N tries to change course before Niall can get too crazy, motioning to Harry’s shirt.
He looked down like he’d forgotten he was wearing it, “Oh, I don’t – see?” He pointed to the star button fixed to the upper corner that says WORLD’S BEST UNCLE!! in big letters, “I’m the world’s best uncle, actually. My niece is turning 8 today.”
That makes Y/N relax a little, her shoulders slumping when she breathes out a soft, “Oh! Right, yeah, that’s – that’s great.” And she’s happy because she isn’t spiraling that Harry has a wife and daughter that has no idea what he gets up to, but she thinks Niall mistakes the sigh of relief and the relaxed shoulders. Because, ever the wingman, he pinches her hip in the way he does before he’s about to ‘work his magic’ as he calls it.
“So are you single or. . .?”
“Ni!” Y/N chides him, but Harry only answers easily. He always answers questions so easily, like he doesn’t have a thing to hide.
“Yeah, I am. Have been for longer than I care to admit.”
Niall snorts, “I hear that,” he murmured, then motioned to Y/N, waving his hand up and down her torso, “Y/N is pretty, isn’t she? I heard that she’s really good at breaking people out of a dating slump.”
She thinks that if anyone felt her cheeks, their fingers would be immediately set to flame and seared from how hot they burn. It’s one thing when Niall is pulling these moves out at a bar or club, and Y/N’s tipsy and actually dressed pretty. It’s another thing when she’s in a shirt three times her size and her pre-period bloat sweatpants (that were just nice enough a brown and straight-legged, so she could pass them off as actual pants), hair pulled out of her bare face, and not even a single bit of jewelry on. It probably looks like she just rolled out of bed. And if Harry wants to squash this right here right now, he’s honest enough that he could probably say something like, “Eh, she wasn’t my type then and isn’t really my type now, but there’s plenty of people out there that would like her!” Then she’d have to curl up and roll herself down the lane to crash into the pins and disappear into the bowling abyss.
“Oh, she’s beautiful,” Harry answers, and his tone is so sickeningly genuine, Y/N thinks she’s going to roll herself down the lane anyway, “I’ve thought that since the moment I got a good look at her. She’s far too good for me, though.”
Something twirls and spins inside of her that hasn’t twirled and spun in a long time. There’s the reasonable part of her that reminds her he only said that to be nice, but then there’s the evil, deluded part of her. The one who thinks “to be nice,” all he had to do was agree she was pretty and move on, but he really didn’t have to say she was beautiful or anything.
Even so, what did it matter if he thought she was beautiful? Clearly, she’s a little disturbed to feel a giddy rush through her veins when the circumstances of their meeting are the way they are, but. . .like it feels good. Harry’s cute, and his biceps are just as big as they felt wrapped around her that first night, and even though she can tell the shirt he’s wearing is supposed to be oversized, it still stretches around his chest pretty tight. Plus, he’s got this 70s porno mustache that’s doing things for her. And she has never been one who can differentiate feelings of gratitude from real feelings, so since he’s been nothing but nice to her (after the obvious), and had answered her call no questions asked when she really had no business calling him the other night. . .well, she isn’t proud to admit it, but she’d had a dream about him too.
It was brief! Really, she barely remembers any of it – just a bleary subconscious rendezvous where he was holding her, but he was shirtless, and Y/N was gnawing at his arm. That’s all she remembered – she didn’t even see his face, but she just knew it was him from his slightly distorted voice murmuring, “You’re worse than Muffy,” all breathy, “Naughty thing.” – and she woke up confused, a little breathless, and with a weird dream crush that would eventually fizzle out if she ignored it.
God, this is so fucked up – she’s probably so fucked up. It’s not even like she can tell anyone about it, and she thinks that would make her feel a lot better, but who the hell is she going to tell? Harry? She can’t even make a Reddit post in case he’s still looking at her search history!
“Oh god, she’s been stunned into shy silence,” Niall pinched her hip again, “Sweet baby she is. Are you willing to write your number down for her?”
Harry puffs a laugh through his nose, and she isn’t sure if it’s because of how forward Niall is being or because Y/N already sort of has his number, “Ah, sure,” he shrugs, “Why not? I think it’s more empowering for the guy to give out his number first, y’know? Then you don’t have to feel pressured to answer when they message you, and you can let them down easily in the event that you never text at all. It’s a win/win and much better for not getting harassed.”
“I’d think you were being performative right now, but you have a very genuine aura and tone,” Niall clicks his tongue, “Was he like this in school? Should we be suspicious?”
There are like a thousand things you should be suspicious of right now. “Yeah, he’s always been pretty genuine,” Y/N clears her throat, “I do think Niall is doing more of the pressuring right now, though.”
“No pressure, just gentle guidance.” Niall has never had anything gentle about his guidance, but Y/N bites her tongue before she says anything, “My sweet Y/N is the one that got away for loads of people in the back. It’s heartwrenching, the number of suitors at her door, but she’s got high standards and doesn’t like time wasters, so tread carefully. Those she deems worthy are those who get a chance.”
Now he’s just straight up lying, but leave it to Niall to make her seem like some desirable lady in a high court. This same tactic is actually what launched her into her last situationship, who did, in fact, waste her time.
“I’ll be on my best behavior then,” Harry plays along easily, and for this reason, Y/N already knows that he’s on Niall’s good side. Anyone who doesn’t scurry from Niall’s generally intense demeanor always has a win in his book. Instead of sliding the number and leaving it on the table, Harry places it delicately into Y/N’s hand, his fingers stroking along hers when he passes it over. “I should get back, I reckon it’s almost my turn. I’ll look forward to your call, Y/N, if you decide I’m worthy enough. It was nice to see you,” he turns to Niall, “And it was lovely to meet you.”
When he’s out of earshot, Y/N turns to look at Niall with wild eyes, “You are out of your mind.”
“What? He’s cute! And you’ve been talking about that dream with him for two years unprovoked, so it’s time to get a real taste, and maybe your subconscious can finally rest.” Niall presses himself up from his seat, “Okay, no time to dawdle, we need to get back to this game. You missed my spare this last round when you were staring; it was impressive.”
Later that night, when she’s at home with Muffy in her lap, Y/N looks at the number Harry had given her. It was different from the number he’d messaged her from before. Was this his real number?
I’m sorry about him
Ni gets excited sometimes
That was one way to put it, for sure. Harry answers almost immediately, though.
Oh, don’t worry about it, he was funny
I did a full background check on him, too, since he was the one who set you up on the date
Came back clear! He did get a ticket for jaywalking, though
Y/N blinks at her phone screen, then looks in her lap to Muffy, who is giving her that look again – one that reads, ‘Seriously, what is up with this guy,’ and Y/N can only shrug her shoulders because she has no idea. He’s so weird, and that message should scare her, but instead, it just reminds her how weird he is. And because she’s sick in the head, she actually feels a little endeared, even, by how weird he is.
Wow, was she really this easy? Apparently, all you’ve got to do is seem pretty apologetic for holding a knife to her throat, and she practically forgives and forgets! Be nice to her a couple of times and call her beautiful? Well, hell, go ahead and do a background check on her and her friends! She’ll do you one better, and she’ll give you their fingerprints too. Would that make it easier?
It’s messed up, but she guesses she’s a little messed up, too. Niall and Aki both have always said that she needed to be in a ‘Freak for Freak’ kind of relationship.
But she’s getting ahead of herself. This is stupid! Harry was just playing along and having fun with Niall, that was all. There was nothing more to it, and Y/N needs to stop turning it into something. Besides, he “mostly” kidnaps people for a living, whatever the hell that means! He’d told her that himself. Y/N had no business getting anywhere near involved with something like that, even though she is already kind of halfway involved. Not for much longer, though – surely Harry could prove to his coworkers that she, without a shadow of a doubt, had nothing to do with the pet food guy and was simply at the wrong place at the wrong time. So long as he doesn’t keep messaging her or something stupid, then she could just put all of this behind her. If she and Harry ran into each other in public like the universe seems keen on making them do now, they’d give each other a polite nod and be on their way.
Her phone buzzes in her hand, and drags her eyes to the top of the screen again.
I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable though!
Earlier, y’know
Y/N’s fingers swiped quickly over the keyboard.
Hahaa, not at all, that’s okay! I know you were just playing around with Ni
You’re lucky tho, usually he can spot lies from a lightyear away
The three dots reappear almost instantly.
I wasn’t lying though
You are very beautiful
Who I thought you were is a model, and I didn’t question if you were actually her or not for a second y’know
I don’t lie about things like that!!
Anyway, you should go to bed soon, Muffy’s vet appointment is early tomorrow morning
CW: bit of jealous Harry, obsessive behavior, smut, banter, minor language, the nickname muffin is back (sorry not sorry) and a dash of possessive Harry.
Word Count: 6.4K
A/N: It’s been a minute since we’ve seen these two so I hope y’all enjoy a little glimpse into how your fave freaky friends to lovers duo is doing!🌟
Summary: You and Harry attend a party and it makes him just a little jealous how much attention a certain friend of yours is giving you🌟
Harry feels every muscle in his body go tense as he watches the scene in front of him unfold, his eyes hold a harsh glare as they focus on the arm that’s draped over your shoulder pulling you closer into the side of someone that Harry knows is just a friend but he also knows this happens to be a friend you’ve shared a drunken kiss with. You have a smile on your face as you laugh at something Zayn just whispered in your ear, normally the bubbly and joyous sound of your laughter has Harry’s heart melting and his face breaking out into a grin because it’s one of his favorite sounds but when it hits his ears from across the small room it just makes his jaw clench and his grip tighten on the watered down glass of whiskey in his hand all because he knows he’s not the reason behind it.
Harry is well aware that he has a nasty jealousy streak when it comes to you, even when you two were just friends he would always find himself getting irrationally upset anytime he wasn’t able to be with you but someone else like Niall or Zayn was. He knows your relationship with the handsome dark haired man that your sharing a laugh with is strictly platonic, Zayn has always been one of the few people in your life that you can count on to be there whenever you need him no matter what you need him for and he’s glad you have a friend like that but it doesn’t change the fact that as silly as he knows it sounds, Harry would much rather you only call him for anything and everything. He doesn’t like to share your attention and that’s only amplified ever since he exchanged the title of being your bestfriend for being your boyfriend almost a year ago. And now that the two of you have been living together ever since the lease ended at your tiny apartment Harry paid the last four months of rent at he has noticed that his jealousy has somehow morphed into a kind of possessiveness that drives him a bit mad when he sees other people’s eyes linger on you for a beat too long or someone lean in too closely when trying to engage in conversation with you.
It’s gotten to a point where he’s even snapped at Niall for simply placing a hand on your lower back when he was standing beside you for a photo at Amelia’s birthday dinner a few weeks back. There’s just something about you in a social setting when you’re surrounded by people that causes a prickling and burning need for Harry to stake his claim over you as if you’re some sort of thing he’s managed to win. But even as horrible as that sounds he can’t always fight off the urge to act on those feelings and it usually ends up with him dragging you away to a bathroom or a secluded corner somewhere and reminding you how good only he can make you feel, letting you return back to socializing with a blissful smile on your face and a few red blotchy marks on your neck to ward off any unwanted advances.
He does all of this because he just can’t fathom the idea of someone else not knowing you’re his, not knowing that he’s the one you’re leaving with and that he’s the only one who gets to know what it feels like to be loved by you. And by the looks of it, Harry fears he might have to make his way over to you sooner rather than later and steal you away for a bit because something about the way Zayn is so casually leaning down and whispering things to you making you smile and giggle has his blood reaching a boiling point.
“You keep looking at him like that his heads gonna explode.” Harry just rolls his eyes as Niall appears next to where he’s standing at the bar.
“And that would be a bad thing?” Harry asks without any hint of playfulness making Niall let out a laugh as Harry places his glass down on the poorly decorated bar that just has a few rose petals scattered on top of it.
“Yeah it would be a bad thing I mean look at him,” Niall motions towards you and Zayn with his hand that’s not holding a beer bottle. “He’s bloody beautiful.”
“He’s decent looking.”
“Decent? Oh fuck right off with that—we both know that man is attractive.”
“If you think he’s so fit why don’t you go over there and take my girlfriend’s place huh?—let him whisper in your ear and make you giggle like a school girl with a crush.” Harry’s harsh words have Niall slowly looking over at his bestfriend who is glaring at the side of Zayn’s head, all the angles of Harry’s face take on a harsher appearance and it all begins to click in Niall’s mind why suddenly your friendship with the tall dark and handsome man standing next to you is such an issue.
“You need to calm down before your jealousy gets you in trouble—they have been friends for years Harry and nothing has ever-”
“They kissed once.”
“What? Really? When? No—no one told me anything about a kiss.”
“I don’t know probably years ago it was a dare or something and-”
“And clearly it didn’t mean anything because she’s with you and they are still just friends.” This makes Harry let out an annoyed sigh as he runs a hand through his hair, his eyes still on Zayn as the two of you continue to talk amongst the small group of friends you’re standing in the middle of. “Seriously Harry this whole jealous boyfriend thing isn’t cute and it’s gonna piss her off if you don’t get it under control.” If Niall only knew that when Harry gets in these kinds of moods you don’t usually mind that much, because you understand that sometimes he just needs some reassurance but then again Harry hasn’t ever felt this intense of a mixture of both jealousy and possessiveness pumping through his veins like some sort of drug, and he isn’t at all sure how you’re going to handle it.
But he’s about to find out.
“Don’t worry Niall.” Harry says with a mischievous looking smile on his face as he turns to look Niall in the eye. “I have it all under control.” This makes a loud booming laugh come out of the Irishman’s mouth as Harry shoots him a wink before turning and heading in your direction while Niall just shakes his head and turns towards the bar so he doesn’t have to see whatever scene he knows Harry is about to cause.
“You have got it all wrong—Noah was never going to marry anyone else. He was in love with Allie and just Allie.” Harry grins as the sound of your voice hits his ears, he can tell by the tone of it that you’re in the middle of a very intense but still playful argument with the man next to you who Harry watches roll his eyes at you.
“I know all of that I’m saying that Allie didn’t give a fuck about our boy Noah—she was out there moving on and getting engaged so I just think he deserved better that’s all.” You let out an exaggerated huff as Zayn explains his side of things with a smile and just as Harry gets an arms length away from you Zayn reaches over and fixes the silver S pendant you wear on a delicate silver chain around your neck that’s somehow managed to flip over during the evening, seeing his hand casually graze your soft skin has Harry’s vision going red. “You look lovely tonight by the way.” Even though the way the words roll off Zayn’s tongue hold not even a tiny hint of flirtatiousness Harry can’t help but feel his hands balling up into firsts at his sides.
“Thank you.”
“Anytime babe.” Just as the petname falls out of Zayn’s mouth Harry is stepping behind you, his green eyes catch Zayn’s honey brown ones and the smile he gives Harry nearly sends him over the edge with how fake it is.
You can sense him before you feel his large hands grab onto you, having always been able to tell when Harry’s around by the way he causes all the attention in the room to be turned in his direction even if he doesn’t necessarily want it. The moment you feel the firmness of his grip when one of his hands lands on your hip you start to get an idea of what kind of mood he’s in because you know that for some reason your friendship with the man next to you has always stirred up some feelings of jealousy within Harry. But then he places his other hand on the side of your neck so his thumb can run up and down the back of it soothingly before giving it a small squeeze and it solidifies your earlier assumption about what kind of mood Harry is in and it has a small ripple of excitement spreading through your body, already knowing exactly how Harry handles his jealousy.
“Sorry to interrupt.” You hold back a laugh as you lean into Harry’s touch making a smile spread across his face as he keeps his eyes locked on Zayn. “You don’t mind if I steal her away for a moment do you?” He asks with a quirk of his brow making Zayn laugh as he gives Harry a shrug.
“Go for it mate—it’s not like she belongs to me or anything.” You look over at Zayn just in time to see him glance down at you and shoot you a little wink as he lifts his champagne glass up to his lips because you’re not the only one who is aware of what is happening in this situation and sometimes Zayn just can’t help himself when it comes to how easy it is to rile Harry up.
“Exactly.” Harry’s tone holds a harsh edge to it and you feel his grip on your hip tighten causing the silky material of your pink sparkly dress to bunch up under his fingertips. You don’t even have time to tell Zayn bye before Harry is giving your hip a small push so you start walking in his desired direction, his hand doesn’t leave your neck as your feet start moving but he lets his hand drop away from your hip so he can reach over and grab the drink out of your hand that you’re only halfway done with.
“I wasn’t done with that.” You tell him with a pout when he places it on an empty table as the two of you walk by, Harry lets out a small chuckle as he leans down so his lips are next to your ear.
“Don’t worry baby—I’ll get you another one when we’re done.” You sink your teeth into your bottom lip as his words make your mind start to swirl with all the possibilities of what he could possibly mean, his voice is deep and you don’t miss the lust filled husky undertone to it that has your core starting to throb with a familiar sense of anticipation.
“Okay.” Harry doesn’t need to see your face to know you’re started to get flustered, your breathy mumble gives it all away making him smile as he leans down further so he can place a quick kiss to the top of your shoulder, his lips are warm against your skin that’s visible thanks to the thin strap of your knee length dress that Harry bought for you to wear just for this occasion.
“Have I told you today how much I love you?” He asks as he continues to steer you towards a dark hallway with a door at the end of it that leads to a stairwell and only has one dimly lit light on the wall above a picture of the New York City skyline.
“No I—I don’t think you have?” You say with a light tease to your voice making Harry just let out a hum in response.
“Well that just won’t do will it? Considering this whole dumb party is meant to be about love and all that.” Harry looks around to make sure no one is paying the two of you too much unwanted attention before he moves so he can push open the door letting you walk into the stairwell that’s only lit with a few fluorescent lights, their low buzz being the only sound in the enclosed space.
“It is not dumb you just don’t like the fact Zayn beat you to the idea of hosting a Valentine’s Day party.” Harry’s eyes darken as the other man’s name falls out of your mouth as you step into the stairwell with him following behind you and before you can even fully get the last word out and turn around to face him, he’s using his grip on your neck and pulling you in for a kiss.
Your eyes shut as his lips move against yours feverishly, his tongue swipes across your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth. Your hands tangle into his hair and you don’t even hear the door shut as Harry manages to maneuver the two of you into the corner of the the stairwell until you feel your back being pressed up against the wall with his back facing the door blocking anyone’s view of you if they happen to step out needing some air or to leave the party in a hurry. Harry’s hands gives your sides a squeeze before traveling down your body until he’s grabbing at the skirt of your dress and pushing it up towards your hips, you feel him smile against your lips when you automatically spread your legs enough for him to fit between.
“This is such a nice dress.” He mumbles against the skin of your jaw. “Know you like to be a little messy but we don’t wanna ruin it now do we muffin?”
Your mind starts to go fuzzy as Harry calls you the petname he now saves for very specific situations because it serves as a reminder of how he still happily continues to pay your way through life, and sometimes it can plant a seed of guilt that grows into a toxic vine that latches onto every innocent gift or small token of his love for you and turns it into something that leaves you feeling unworthy and creates an ever growing list of things you feel you haven’t earned and surely don’t deserve. But Harry knows you well enough to know that slipping it into moments like this, when he has his hands on you and his lips peppering kisses all over your neck it will only have you further melting into his touch and turn you desperate for more of him and that’s exactly how Harry likes you, desperate for him.
Especially when he’s losing the battle against his jealousy.
“N—no don’t want to ruin it because y—you bought it for me and it’s so pretty.” You whisper as one of Harry’s hands slides between your legs softly rubbing his thumb over the soft flesh of your inner thigh. Your words have Harry holding back a grin as his lips find yours for a kiss that’s too quick for your liking making you poke your bottom lip out in a pout when he pulls away and locks eyes with you.
“You know I love buying pretty things for you baby.” His tone is soft as he drags his hand higher up your thigh, he lets out a deep sigh that turns into a dark chuckle as he rests his forehead on top of your shoulder. “Fuckin’ hell muffin why is it you never wear anything underneath dresses like this?” Your hands grab onto his shoulders as he turns his head so his lips are only a breath away from the sensitive skin of your neck while his thumb expertly finds your clit, rubbing over it in slow circles that has your head leaning back against the wall. “I buy you all those cute little sets and yet most of the time all I find is your bare drippy little cunt underneath all your pretty dresses and skirts—why is that hmmm?” He asks as he slips his index finger into your needy center making you arch into him, his hand on your hip keeps you still when you start to buck your hips as his thumb increases its pressure on your bundle of nerves.
“Because I—I want you to be able to-” a low moan cuts off the rest of your sentence as Harry adds his middle finger and starts to slowly slip his thick digits in and out of your wetness.
“Want me to be able to what sweetheart?” He asks as he presses his lips to the top of your shoulder, he feels your hands tighten their hold on his shoulders as he quickens the pace of his fingers.
“To touch me.” You answer with a soft moan as Harry adds a third finger letting you get hit with the welcomed stretch you always feel with the thickness of his fingers being tucked inside you making a gentle warmth spread through you.
“Hmmm I don’t know muffin I think you do it so I can do a little more than just touch you—we’ve been in this situation before haven’t we?” He teases as he keeps your hip pinned to the wall not allowing you to try and match the pace of his fingers that he has pumping in and out of you at a torturous pace that’s turning your dull need for him into a blazing hunger. “Tell me the truth.” His eyes find yours as he quickens his pace, curving his fingers in the way he knows will have you willing to do or say whatever he wants because a tiny part of you is worried if you don’t he’ll stop and put an end to how good it makes you feel.
“I want—want you to f—fuck me that’s why I do—do it.” Your words come out a muttered mess as Harry pulls you closer and closer to the edge of your release with each movement of his wrist that drags his fingers out of you and then pushes them back into your achy center.
“You always want me to fuck you while we are out like this—always need me to make you feel good even if it’s in some random bedroom at a party or in the bathroom of a club you’re always so needy for me aren’t you baby?” His words have memories of the two of you in very similar situations playing in your head and Harry can’t help but smile as he feels you start to clench around his thick fingers. “You like it when other people can hear how good I make you feel don’t you muffin?” You can only manage to nod as Harry’s hold on your hip loosens just enough that you can grind down onto his hand making you let out a loud moan that bounces off the cold walls letting the soft echo of your voice hit Harry’s ears.
Your head leans back against the wall and Harry can’t help but get lost in the sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of your soaked center, so much so that he misses the very telling moan of his name that falls from your mouth that usually signals him you are only moments away from your undoing. But lucky for him Harry has gotten to know your body better than anyone and he can sense how close you are based on the way your walls start fluttering around his fingers and your hips keep jerking uncontrollably while your hands tighten their hold on his shoulders. Harry pumps his thick digits into your warm wet cunt, his eyes darken as he watches your face twist up in pleasure but then he has to fight off a smirk when your mouth forms a small pout when he doesn’t make any moves to continue the delicious pace he was thrusting his fingers in just a few moments ago.
“Tell me baby who is it that can get you this wet and messy with just a few fingers?” His voice holds that certain edge to it that has your insides trembling. “I know you’re close—I know all you need is for me to wiggle my fingers and you’ll be making such a mess it’ll be dripping down my wrist before you’re even done chanting my name.” His breath is hot on your neck as he whispers in your ear before sticking the tip of his tongue out and licking a delicate stripe down the side of your jaw making you let out a breathy moan. “So just be a good little muffin and tell me—who makes you such a pretty mess like this?” Harry can’t help himself but to press his lips into yours when you pucker them for a quick kiss as he drags his lips over the smooth skin of your jaw.
“You—you do.” Harry shakes his head and lets out a disapproving sound at your rushed answer.
“What’s my name baby?” He asks quietly as your knees threaten to give out as he gives his fingers a small wiggle while pushing them deeper into your center, the metal of his rings sending a pleasant shiver through you as they get tucked up against your entrance.
“H—Harry.” Your voice is shaky and Harry smiles to himself as one of your hands grabs at the back of his neck while you move your hips to create a delicious friction with his thumb that’s pressed against your clit.
“Little louder muffin—know you can do better than that.” He teases as he adds more pressure to your bundle of nerves sending a shock wave through you that has your eyes snapping closed and your hand tangling into Harry’s hair as the thin cord that was holding you together snaps.
“Harry—oh fuck Harry Harry—oh oh god.” Your loud cry of his name mixed with a few moans has a grin spreading across Harry’s face as he slowly pumps his fingers in and out of you, his grip on your hip and your hand on his shoulder and in his hair the only things keeping you from crumbling to the floor as your orgasm plows into you like a freight train. “D—don’t stop Harry oh please—please don’t stop.” Your voice is pleading and desperate sounding as his lips place little kisses to the top of your shoulder as he fucks his fingers in and out of you trying to prolong your moment of pleasure for as long as he can. He lets out a throaty groan when your hand gives his hair a harsh tug before you rest your forehead on his shoulder, finally feeling the fog of your climax rising as you try to catch your breath while he slowly slides his fingers from your center. “W—want more Harry—please.” Harry has to close his eyes as your hand slides off his shoulder and starts to travel down his chest, he lets out a moan when your palm lays flat against his painfully hard cock that’s being held back by the black slacks of his suit.
“God I wanna fuck you so bad baby—stuff your greedy little hole full of my big cock—make you walk around all night with me dripping down your thighs.” You hear him let out a deep groan as your hands work open his belt and undo his zipper.
“Want that so bad Harry—please.” Normally you begging for Harry to fuck you would have him turning to putty in your hands and make him do anything you wanted but he has always had a rule about not doing certain things in public and giving you his cock is one of them.
“I want to baby trust me I want to so bad but—not here muffin—” he tells you with a kiss to your pouty lips. “I’ll let you ride me in the car on the way home since we have a driver for tonight—know you love to bounce on my cock.” He hears you let out a sad whine when he pulls away making him let out a little chuckle as he moves his hand from your hip so he can fix his pants, but just as he’s about to pull up the zipper you’re pulling him down by the back of his neck so your lips are near his ear.
“Please Harry—I’ll be so good and let the whole party know only you and your big fat cock get to fuck my pretty pussy—please let me have it.” Your filthy words have Harry pushing all his usual rules to the side as you pull away just enough to look him in his lust filled eyes just before he presses his lips against yours in a rough and hungry kiss. His hands are grabbing your hips and pulling you closer to his chest, your hands grab hold of his pink dress shirt that perfectly matches your dress and you let out a small squeak that Harry just swallows down as he suddenly turns the two of you and starts to walk you backwards until your lower back meets something cold and metal.
“Turn around.” He demands softly as he pulls away from your heated kiss, you don’t hesitate to do what he says and you feel your heart start to beat harder when you realize he has you pressed against a half wall with a handrail, the wall separates the level of the stairwell the two of your are currently on from the set of stairs that will take you to the lower levels. “I never have been able to say no to you have I baby?” He says with a sigh as his hands make quick work of pushing the skirt of your dress up over your hips, you feel him press his lips to the back of your neck as you place your palms flat against the cold concrete wall. You feel a tingling of excitement and anticipation as the sound of Harry messing with his slacks hits your ears before his hand that isn’t holding your dress up gently pushes at your back encouraging you to bend over.
“Got me so obsessed with you and your perfect cunt that I’ll do anything you want.” You let out a gasp that turns into a soft moan as you feel Harry grab the soft flesh of your ass giving it a harsh squeeze, he lets out a deep groan as you feel him drag the leaky tip of his hard cock back and forth through your slick folds teasingly nudging at your entrance making you whine as you clench around nothing. “No whining muffin—you wanted this remember? You wanted my cock so bad so you’ll take whatever I give you.” You feel the air get knocked out of your lungs as he gives you one harsh thrust pushing his thick cock deep into your needy cunt. “Shit baby I’m not even all the way in and I can feel you squeezing me already.” You let out a loud moan as his hand gives your ass a squeeze before grabbing your other hip, Harry groans as he looks down and watches the rest of his length disappear into your wetness pressing his hips up against your backside letting you only get a moment to adjust to the familiar fullness of him before he’s pulling his hips back just enough to slam back into you.
“Oh fuck.” You moan as you lean forward so Harry can hit deeper with each harsh thrust, before you can even think twice you press your cheek against the wall and let out a sigh at the sensation of the cold wall against your warm skin.
“Be good for me muffin and let this whole building know who fucks you so good—tell everyone whose big cock you love so much.” His voice is rough as his grip on your hips tighten and he pounds into your at a relentless pace making your chest bounce with each harsh thrust, the strap of your dress slips off your shoulder causing one of your breasts to fall out but you don’t have it in you to care, only being able to focus on Harry and how you can practically feel him everywhere and loving how overwhelming he is.
“Sh—shit oh god—Harry.” You cry out his name as his hand reaches around and cups your breast in his hand, your eyes squeeze closed as he rubs the pad of his thumb over your pebbled nipple before giving it a pinch with his thumb and index finger. “Harry—please please Harry—oh yes.” You don’t really know what you’re saying as he moves your hips to match his pace, the sound of skin meeting skin mixed with the squelching of your soaked cunt as Harry pumps his fat cock in and out of you is obscene and the thought of anyone hearing it sends a shiver of excitement down your spine.
“So good baby doing so fucking good for me—love your pussy so much god it’s so perfect and takes my cock so well.” He pants as his pace gets sloppy, you lean your head back as he leans over so his lips can press against the top of your shoulder as he circles your nipple with his thumb. “Know you’re close baby—be my messy little muffin and soak my cock so I can give you what you really want.” His voice is low as he kisses his way up your neck, you let out a soft moan as the tip of his cock nudges the spot deep inside you that has you pushing your hips back into him and your eyes rolling back.
“Shit—Harry.” He can’t help but grin as you cry out his name as your walls start to flutter and clench around him, he moves his hand to your lower tummy helping you keep upright as you get hit with your release.
“Fuck baby—shit I’m so close.” Your mind is foggy as Harry keeps up his brutal pace while he lets go of your dress so he can reach out and interlock his fingers with one of your hands that’s against the wall. “Tell me how bad you want it muffin—let me hear how much you want me to fill your needy cunt up.” His breath is warm on your skin as he presses his hips firmly against your ass letting feel him throbbing deep inside you.
“Want it so bad—need it Harry please please let me have it I want it so—so bad please.” You beg as his lips press against your neck, you moan his name when you feel his teeth lightly nip at your ear.
“Okay baby—I’ll give it to you.” His voice is soothing as if he wasn’t the one that asked you to beg for him and it hold a gentleness to it, not at all matching the situation the two of you are in and in a tender moment you feel his hand give yours a squeeze before he moans your name over and over in your ear as he start to pump you full of his release. You let out a soft moan as you feel the addictive warmth that spreads throughout your whole body as he slowly rolls his hips into you dragging out the bliss of your climax until your muddled thoughts start to uncloud themselves.
“Oh wow.” You breath out with a laugh making Harry smile as he lets go of your hand so he can grab your hips and slowly start to pull out of you, he fixes his pants before kneeling down just enough so he can see the mixture of your releases slowly leaking out of your glistening hole. “Don’t be a perv Harry.” He lets out a laugh as he reaches a hand out and swipes the tip of his index finger through your folds so he can gather some of the mixture up so he can get a little taste, not being able to control himself when it comes to getting to sample the delicious way the two of your releases taste when mixed together.
“It’s not pervy if it’s my girlfriend’s cunt I’m staring at.”
“Okay well you have your girlfriend’s cunt on display so can you maybe-” your words get cut off by Harry’s hands pulling your dress back down over your ass while you adjust the top of it making sure your straps are secure on tops of your shoulders.
“I love you baby—so so so much.” He mumbles as he turns you around so he can cup the sides of your face. “Sorry I got a little jealous—I think I got it all out of my system now.” You roll your eyes as he leans down to press his lips against yours in a sweet kiss.
“I love you too Harry.” You tell him as he pulls away with a smile on his face. “I kinda like it when you get jealous—even if it is silly because you know Zayn is-”
“Baby please don’t say another man’s name while my cum is literally dripping down your legs.” You let out a scoff and swat at his chest making him laugh as he drops his hands to your waist.
“You are so annoying.”
“I know—now come on let’s get back to this lame party.”
“You think anyone heard us?” Harry rubs his lips together to hold back a smirk as he grabs your hand and walks towards the door that leads back to the party.
“No I’m sure no one heard us—or at least not enough to actually know what was really going on.” You roll your eyes as he opens the door for you.
“Just for that I’m going to have a shot at the bar with Zayn and Niall while you go wash your hands.” Harry pokes his bottom lip out into a pout as the two of you walk down the dark hallway and back towards the party.
“So bossy.” He huffs as he leans over and presses a kiss to your cheek. “I like it.” You giggle as he gives your hip a pinch before letting go of your hand so he can search for the nearest restroom to wash up. “Behave yourself while I’m gone baby.” He says with a wink making you just wave him off with a roll of your eyes.
“Yeah yeah whatever go away.” You mumble slipping back into the lighthearted and teasing way the two of you talk to one another as he heads off in the opposite direction of you.
“I don’t know love I think it has to be the red one.” You quirk a brow at Harry as he gets situated between your legs in the oversized bathtub that he pouted and all but begged to join you in after getting home from Zayn’s Valentine’s Day party. “He’s way better than the blue one and—well he just looks the coolest.” He adds as you wrap your arms around his shoulders making the warm bubble filled water slosh around the edge of the tub.
“You are so wrong—the white power ranger is the coolest one but the black one is the one who looks the best.” You argue making him roll his eyes as he leans his head back so it’s resting on his shoulder while you run your fingers up and down his chest.
“How are you even saying that when yellow is your favorite?”
“Because I know yellow is a badass but I also know that when it comes to looks no one is beating black.” This makes Harry laugh as his hands soothing run up and down the sides of your thighs.
“I hope these are the types of things we argue about when we’re old and gray.” Harry’s voice is smooth and gives you a feeling of comfort as his words wrap around you like a warm hug.
“You think you’ll still want to be with me when we’re all old and wrinkly?” Your question has Harry sitting up so he can turn around and press his back against the other side of the tub, his hands immediately reaching out for you so he can pull you into his lap making you giggle as the water splashes over the edge of the tub just a bit with the movement.
“There’s never going to be a time when I won’t want to be with you—I’m afraid you’re truly stuck with me until I die.” He tells you softly as his hands rest on your hips. “I love you too much to ever want to live without you.” He adds as he leans in and presses his lips to your forehead.
“I love you too but—wait did you say until you die? As in you plan on dying first?” Harry just shrugs as your hands rest on his chest.
“Well yeah? There’s no way in hell I’m living in a world where you’re not alive so I have to go first.”
“Harry that’s so—oddly romantic but also very narcissistic.” He gives you a dimpled grin and he leans down so his lips are just a breath away from yours.
“I know—that’s kinda my whole thing though isn’t it? Romantically narcissistic.” You don’t even get to finish rolling your eyes before he’s pressing a kiss to your lips that has you smiling against him before pulling away.
“You really are so annoying.”
“Maybe so but at least my favorite power ranger isn’t the yellow one.”
Oh how I missed these two!!!! I love them so much, my precious babies 💞
But Sarah what have you put in this one? Because I felt bad for harry throughout?? Normally in a situation like this I'd be like "okay harry your jealousy is cute I like it but don't over do it you're being unhinged" but with this one i legit felt so sad for him i literally wanted to cry? What is wrong with me!!! And I thought even he was going to cry at some point because this situation is so frustrating for him. He's caught between rationality and jealousy. He is jealous and he is pissed at Zayn but he knows he doesn't have a reason to be and he can't do anything about it. He can't just magically not feel any jealousy anymore and he can't tell her to stop being so close with zayn so that he can feel at ease because that's literally one of her closest friends. So i feel his pain. Other times I'd be like 'get over it' but this time I really wanted to hug him and cry and tell him it's fine and...hear this....I even wanted to punch Zayn because he was enjoying his suffering way too much. See, I have lost my mind!
I love how well she knows him and how sassy she is. And they are so freaky!!! And cute! Their argument about power rangers, harry talking about getting old with her aaaaaaahhh i fear im obsessed with them. Love them way too much 🥺❤️
Oh can't forget Niall, love him too! Love that he was kinda there for harry and tried knocking some sense into his head even though I'm sure he's gonna throw a fit later about why he didn't know about the kiss 😂
Hi!! This is the first time I'm making a request here 😊 English isn't my native language, so I apologize for any possible mistakes.
Well, my idea is like this: nerd!harry and a little bit sub!harry. He's with Y/N and some friends from college. Y/N feels a little out of place because everyone is VERY intelligent and they're talking about very nerdy things. She tries to join the conversation and one of Harry's friends teases her, and instead of defending her, Harry laughs and makes jokes too. At home, she punishes him 😈 She's riding his defined abs while his hands are tied to the headboard and he's begging her to let him touch her and make him cum, and she's like "no, you were a bad boyfriend, and bad boyfriends don't cum."
❌ Bad Boyfriend*
Summary: Harry faces a punishment for making fun of his girlfriend.
CW: strong sexual content (f!riding, sub!Harry, denial of touch, begging), slight humiliation/embarrassment, strong language use, minor angst
Word count: 1k - short & sweet
Pairing: Nerd!Harry, Sub!Harry x Fem!reader
A/N: Thank you Anon for this request, hope you like it! Sub Harry is 😮💨 let that man beg!
The sound of laughter echoed throughout the small space. Harry’s girlfriend gave the group a weak smile, slightly annoyed. Harry had invited his course mates to their shared flat on a Friday night to discuss an important program they were in the process of building. When she had asked why it couldn’t wait, he muttered how she wouldn’t fully understand and how important the program was. Now, she was forced to cater to a group of men who seemed to be joking more than doing any actual work.
“That’s it, it's the math that makes it so much more appealing. If you can’t see that, you’re blind mate,” Harry bickered, his attention fully directed to the three men taking up space. Harry was so intelligent; it was one of the qualities she loved about him. He made coursework look easy, getting perfect marks on every exam. For her, it was the opposite. She struggled with math and science, which was how she had met Harry through a tutoring service. As a Humanities major, she excelled in conversation, body language, and empathy. Harry was logic, and she was reason. He was her safe space and never made her feel lesser.
“Exactly! It’s like a Bach fugue, but in Python,” one of the men said excitedly. She didn’t know what possessed her to join the conversation—maybe an attempt to feel included or worthy of being Harry’s girlfriend? Her voice spoke up confidently, a smile on her face.
“I mean, it's pretty cool… how the sequence repeats, right? It’s kinda like… sunflowers! Patterns in nature…” The moment the words left her mouth, their eyes focused on her. Harry looked half-mortified, half-shocked that she was even paying attention. An obnoxious laugh cracked through the quiet, and the others followed suit.
“Sunflowers? That’s really… cute, but we are discussing the complexity of computational sequences, not some primary school botany project,” one of his mates scoffed with a smirk.
Harry’s girlfriend swallowed hard, her eyes drifting to her boyfriend, silently waiting for a rescue that never came. Instead, Harry joined in on their laughter, shaking his head in disapproval. It irked her how his soft, humorous laugh carried on with the group—a private sound that was usually just for her.
A blush rose to her cheeks as she turned away, busying herself in the kitchen as a distraction. Still in earshot, she heard Harry add to the joke. “Next she’ll say how ‘pretty colors’ make codes run faster. Careful, mate… she’s a bit of an intellectual compared to us,” Harry joked, keeping his gaze away from her. She couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth.
Making fun of her?
She expected that from his friends, but never him. Without hesitation, she slammed the cabinet door shut. Quiet fell among the males as she disappeared down the hall to their shared room.
TikTok and Instagram were a welcomed distraction for a few minutes before she sat in her frustration. She was the sensitive one in the relationship, which was why she loved how Harry usually treated her with care. As disappointment coursed through her, she thought about how she could get back at him. He couldn’t go without punishment for embarrassing her.
An idea popped into her head—improper and cruel, but deserved. Her footsteps were quiet against the wood as she heard the men laugh in the distance. She opened a drawer to find a silk ribbon she used for her hair, biting her lip at the thought of Harry tied up and at her disposal.
Over the next forty-five minutes, she made herself irresistible. She fixed her hair and makeup, applying the blush Harry loved. She let her hair fall over her shoulders and slipped on a small lace nightdress that accentuated her curves.
To her dismay, laughs still lingered from the main room. She huffed, tired and easily aroused by her thoughts. Taking one last look in the mirror, she opened the bedroom door and walked out confidently, head high. At first, she paid no mind to the group until one of them cleared his throat. Harry spoke first, stuttering in utter shock at her appearance.
“B-Baby, what… what are you doing?” he asked, his voice growing firmer. She carefully brushed her hair behind her ear innocently.
“What do you mean?” she blinked, flashing a fake smile at the group. Harry’s friends stared at their laptops, closing them and standing awkwardly. “Uh, Harry, we can continue this another time…” one said. They all followed, gathering their belongings.
She didn’t budge, standing in the kitchen as the men left. She crossed her arms as Harry stood up, shaking his head. “Are you serious?” he questioned. His eyes dropped to her cleavage and the high slit on her thigh.
“I really don’t know what you're talking about…” she played, turning her back and walking to the bedroom. She knew he would follow. It was a trap.
“Really, baby? You have no idea why I’m upset?” his voice followed his footsteps into the room.
“I mean, I could have an idea, but I think it’s only fitting that I am more upset at you,” she rolled her eyes, mirroring his stance.
“Upset at me?” he scoffed. “What did I do?”
“Get on the bed,” her demand came out like silk. Harry stood there, confused by the sudden shift. He started to stutter, but she cut him off. “Get on the bed… please,” she added, being too nice.
Harry slowly walked toward the mattress, eyes fixed on her. He sat down, waiting. “Take your shirt off and lie down,” she ordered with more conviction. Harry followed, removing his shirt and laying back. She felt herself clench at the sight of his toned abdomen, her eyes lingering for a second too long.
Once he was situated, she dimmed the lights and grabbed the ribbon. Silently, she grabbed his wrists, anchoring them above his head to the iron bedframe. She wrapped the ribbon tightly, binding him.
“Baby,” he said, his breathing hitching. “You really think this is fair?” His accent came out more pronounced and deep. She only tied the silk tighter. She stepped back to look at him; he was breathtakingly beautiful, his chest heaving.
“I’m not your baby. What did you call me?” she asked, climbing onto the mattress and straddling his waist. “An intellectual, right? That’s so sweet… if only you meant it.”
“So that’s what this is about, petal?” He smirked. “You’re upset because I made a little joke?” He let out a humorless laugh. “Baby, I was just trying to have a bit of fun—” He stopped once she rested against his abdomen. His muscles flexed as he felt her arousal against his skin.
“Fun?” she hummed. “You think that was fun for me?” She locked eyes with his green ones, now hazy and dark. “You know what sounds fun to me? Using you as my little toy.”
She began to grind down on his muscular abs, moaning immediately at the contact. She rocked her hips, hands on his bare chest, increasing her pace before slowing again. She whimpered each time contact was made.
“Fuck,” she mumbled as Harry struggled against the silk.
“Baby, baby… you’re dripping all over me. Let me help you, hm?” he pleaded. He wanted to punish her himself for showing off her body in front of his mates.
“No,” she whispered breathlessly, continuing to move. She could feel how hard he was against her.
“Please baby, look at how hard I am for you…” Harry gasped. She ignored him, rocking harder until she was on the brink.
“Oh my God,” she moaned, urgently moving against him.
“Please let me cum, baby… Please forgive me. Please, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it petal,” he pleaded, his cock aching as he watched from below.
“No. You were a bad boyfriend, and bad boyfriends don’t get to cum,” she said matter-of-factly. She cried out his name as her walls clenched. Warmth coursed through her, and for a second, nothing mattered but the pleasure.
“Fuck,” she cursed, coming down from her high. Harry looked at her in shock, a smirk forming on his lips. “Such a good girl, making yourself cum with my hands tied. You liked that, didn't you?” His voice was half-sinister, already plotting his own version of punishment.
“Shut up,” she told him, breathless, before reaching up to untie his hands. Harry instantly gained control, flipping her onto her back. He hovered over her, eyes dark with desire. “Don’t think you’ll get off so easy, petal,” he warned.
Girllll you've done such a good job with this because I'm actually mad at this harry. Like I'm fuming. He was so rude? And he thinks it was just him having fun? No sir! She was already uncomfortable in that setting, feeling left out and he didn't even consider her feelings and went on to laugh at her with his friends. And then he had the audacity to me upset because she was showing her body? Well if he can make jokes at her expense then she can do whatever she wants with her body, at least she's not hurting anyone's feelings. Honestly if it had been me he wouldn't get punished like that, he'd properly get a piece of my mind, I'd be far more upset and sex won't fix it for me and I won't even let him touch me until he understands why I'm hurt. And I don't think understands why she's mad he's too focused on trying to punish her for showing too much skin!! Dumbass! He needs to be more in tune with her feelings because this is not just about one day. Little things like that, little jokes and jabs add up to the list (no matter if he's doing it unknowingly or because of peer pressures) and if he doesn't even bother notice how it makes her feel then he's definitely a bad boyfriend all the time. Like what do you mean he said she wouldn't understand?!! Okay. She might not understand then do these things that she can't take part in somewhere that's not her own home. You can't make her feel like she doesn't belong or she's not worthy in her own home. Ughh I'm way too mad at this fic. Only shows how well you managed to capture the feeling! But he deserved to suffer a little moreeee 😤
Hiii lovey!!! Just popping by to say hello and see how you’re doing! Love you!!💖
Hi my love!! Thank you for checking in on me. I have been inactive for a while I know. So it makes me happy that you were thinking of me. I wasn't doing very well health-wise. I'm doing fine now i think. How are YOU doing??!! I'm excited to catch up on everything you've posted since. I want to stalk your blog like i usually do 🫣 but I think it's a bad idea because I'll get distracted by the many fics that I'm sure you've reblogged. So can you please be a darling and just link whatever you've posted in the past week or so because i cannot get distracted right now I have much on my tbr 😭 I think the last fics I read of yours were the disturbing the peace and bought a cow texts
Look at me being a spoilt brat demanding things from you but I know you love so 🤷🏼♀️🫶❤️
Sarah I need a text with the whole “I bought a cow” dialogue from that plot list you posted because how would Harry handle that?😂❤️
Hiii babes!! Yessss you can get this text because fun fact I legit almost put a calf in the back of my car because there was a gap in the fence of a cattle farm I drove by on my way home everyday in high school 😂 so I hope you enjoy!!💖
titsay
yousharknotpass
janainaart
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