Good girl - Harry Styles
a/n: alright so @dontworrysunflower and i agreed that there’s not enough sugardaddy!harry content on here so i took the courage to make a story myself, i hope i didn’t entirely butcher the concept but i had so much fun writing it! it’s hot and whitty, i just loved it. also, the beginning was based on this idea i saw somewhere and i just have no idea where i saved it, so rip to that, but im claiming that it wasn’t my idea though it was so fitting to the story so i took the liberty and used it haha!
PLEASE if you enjoyed the story, give it a like and reblog, it means so much to writers when you give them the feedback, I’m begging you to show a little something if you enjoyed it!
pairing: sugardaddy!Harry / CEO!Harry x Reader
warning: sexual content
word count: 16.8k
You can’t stop yourself from growling when you walk into the auditorium and see Nick sitting next to the seat you always take. He knows that’s your spot, he knows you like sitting there because it’s not too much at the front or at the back, it’s close to the window so you have enough light but not close enough to make you shudder when someone opens them. That’s simply the best spot in the room and he knows you always sit there. And yet, even after all the rejection he has suffered from you, he still wants to sit next to you and shoot his millionth shot just to get dumped again and again.
You roll your eyes as you walk across the room and pay a lingering look at your professor behind his desk. There’s another man with him, leaning against the desk with his back showing to you, so you can’t tell who it is, but judging from the expensive suit, he is not a professor around here. The university definitely doesn’t pay enough to wear Gucci.
“Hi Y/N,” Nick greets you as you walk up the stairs next to the rows and plop your notebook and phone to the desk at your spot.
“Nick,” you mumble, already over his shit. At first you tried to be friendly and respectful, turning him down as nicely as possible, but he kept coming at you and now you can’t even bother to be decent towards him. He needs to learn how to take no as an answer.
“How was your weekend?”
“Fine,” you answer shortly, keeping your eyes down on your phone as you put it on silent. Nick then starts telling you about his weekend even though you did not ask him. You are plotting his murder when your eyes move to the front of the room, meeting a pair of intense green eyes standing next to Professor Robertson’s desk. The mystery man is now staring straight at you, his handsome face pulled into a hard expression as he takes his time watching you.
Who is he?
He is tall and definitely muscular, broad shoulders and curls to die for, a faint stubble on his chin and above his pink lips, not the kind that gives away the vibe that he doesn’t care about his looks. It gives him more of a manly sparkle, something no other guy in the room has, including Nick. This man, he is surely a handful and you can actually hear a few sighs around the room as other girls are noticing him. He is… the definition of a man. But who is he?
“So, are you free tonight?” Nick’s question brings you back from your stance and you growl in annoyance.
“I told you, I don’t want to go out with you. What is so hard to understand about that?”
“Why can’t you give me a chance?” he pouts, seemingly ignoring the seriousness you’ve been trying to beat into him when it comes to you.
“Because I don’t want to.”
You turn back towards the mystery man and you realize that he is still looking at you, a playful smirk tugging on his lips as he hides his hands in his pockets before turning towards your professor who finally starts the lecture, robbing Nick from bugging you any longer.
“Welcome everyone, happy Monday. Today we have a special guest.” Professor Robertson claps his hands together in excitement, glancing over at the mystery man. “Since this is a course about startup businesses, I asked an old friend of mine to talk about how he started his business off, built it from basically nothing. Harry Styles is the CEO of Styles Holdings, the parent company of some of the most successful businesses nowadays, working in many different fields. He was so kind to clear his schedule for us today so you can ask him questions following his brief presentation about his journey.”
Harry Styles, the name now rings a bell, you just never knew the face connected to it. You’ve heard about him already, the man is only thirty, yet one of the most influential businessmen in the States, holding so much power and, of course, money you can’t even imagine what he spends it on. For some reason, you imagined him to be some creepy looking guy who looks fifty at the age of thirty, but he is far from that. His chiseled jawline, charming smirk and piercing eyes make every female in the room swoon as he steps next to the professor.
“He looks like a real asshole,” Nick whispers to you and you slap his upper arm.
“Shut up,” you tell him, eyes glued to the man at the front.
“Thank you, it’s an honor to be here. I hope I’ll be able to give out some new information and motivate you all to start your own business.”
His voice! You need to take a deep breath as you lean back in your seat and cross your legs under the table, watching him at the front. He is doing things to you with just his existence and you’re sure you’re not the only one in the room feeling like this.
You drink every word that leaves his mouth as he talks about how he started his company with basically nothing. Started with smaller investments and then slowly moving to bigger businesses until he worked his way up to the top. You can’t seem to move your gaze away from his ring clad fingers every time he gestures with his hands and you notice some tattoos poking from under his expensive suit. You wonder what his dress shirt hides under it.
In addition, he is so fucking smart, you’re convinced there’s nothing in the world he doesn’t know about, it’s clear that he spends a lot of time broadening his knowledge and there’s something incredibly hot about that. Guys your age just want to be done with school already and never use their brain again. Harry Styles is the exact opposite of that.
“So, are you free tonight?” Nick tries again and you almost start screaming.
“Nick, leave me the fuck alone!” you whisper back.
“Come on! Just one date!”
“You know what? I’ll go on a date with you if you can ask him a question that he answers incorrectly,” you tell him pointing at Harry at the front. Nick’s eyebrows shoot up, his smirk is filled with satisfaction though you’re convinced he will lose this bet.
When Harry finishes his presentation he finally opens up the opportunity to ask him questions and Nick is quick to throw his hand in the air.
“Yes, you in the grey hoodie,” Harry points at him and you hold your breath as you wait for Nick to ask his question that will decide if you have to go on a date with him or not. You glance over at Harry and you catch him looking at you for a moment before he returns his attention to Nick.
“I have a very important question for you, Mr. Styles.”
“Go for it,” he nods and your heart is beating in your throat when you see him twirl one of his thick rings around his finger in focus.
“Will Y/N who sits here next to me go out with me tonight?”
Right in that moment you want to strangle him to death. Everyone in the room starts chuckling, no one really expected this from him and it seemingly surprised Mr. Styles as well. His eyebrows rise as he looks over at you, eyes meeting with yours once again and you feel like you are about to faint. And then he answers.
“No,” he simply says before moving onto the next question. Nick then turns to you, a smug grin on his lips as he leans back in his seat.
“So, where should we go?” he asks, thinking how clever he was, thought he still didn’t nail it completely.
You just roll your eyes and ignore his existence for the rest of the lecture, still in shock this all just happened. He is lucky the room is filled because otherwise he would already be dead.
At the end of the lecture you give him a fake number so he can finally stop bothering you and he leaves the room so full of himself, it’s ridiculous.
When you are all packed you head down next to the rows until you are standing in front of Mr. Styles who is talking to Professor Robertson. He notices your presence and turns to you with a curious look in his beautiful green eyes.
“You seemed pretty sure about your answer to Nick’s question. Why?” you simply ask and you notice the amusement in his eyes at your courage for coming up to him. He cocks his head to the side, a tiny smirk playing on his pink lips as he answers you.
“Because you are having dinner with me tonight.”
Your breath catches in your throat, his answer throwing you off completely, you were not expecting that. It seems like he is rather entertained by your reaction, a smug smirk curling up the corners of his mouth.
“Unless you already have other pla—“
“I don’t,” you quickly say, sounding maybe a little too enthusiastic, but you couldn’t care less. This man, this fine as hell man just asked you out on a date, you’re not gonna turn him down.
Harry reaches into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and hands a business card over you that holds his name, his company’s name and his phone number in golden plated letters and numbers.
“Text me your address, I’ll send a car for you.”
It’s not an offer or a suggestion, it’s an order you are willing to obey to. You nod and slide the card into your back pocket before paying one last look to him, you walk out of the room, feeling his burning gaze on your frame as you walk away.
You’re a nerve-wreck, running around you tiny flat, trying to figure out what to wear. You’ve already put on your sexiest lingerie set, ready for anything the night might bring you, but you can’t decide on the dress. You’re pretty sure Mr. Styles is taking you somewhere fancy, he doesn’t fuck around with low budget places, you have to at least look like you belong to those places even if you’ll never feel like that.
At last, you decide on a skin tight, satin dress that leaves a great amount of your cleavage uncovered for the wandering eyes and also puts your legs on show with a cheeky slit on your right side. You check yourself one last time in the mirror, feeling pretty good about your appearance for tonight, though you also can’t help but feel nervous about meeting him.
Your phone vibrates with a text that says a car is waiting for you in front of your building and you grab your coat and purse, leaving in a rush. Walking out of the building you see a Tesla parked right in front of you, a driver already waiting for you to open the door for you.
“Good evening, Miss,” the man who seems to be in his forties nods in your way with a warm smile as he opens the door to the backseat.
“Thank you,” you nod, a little out of breath about the whole hustle. Mr. Styles is nowhere to be seen in the car and the driver notices your surprise when he sits behind the wheel.
“Mr. Styles told me to tell you that he is sorry he couldn’t come along, but he had some sudden business to take care of. He is meeting you there.”
“And where is it he is meeting me, exactly?” you curiously asks, but the driver just smiles and ignores your question. Mysterious.
You watch the city lights pass by you, no idea where you are heading, but you can tell tonight is going to be one you’ll surely never forget. The odds of Mr. Styles spotting you from all the other girls in the lecture hall was rather slim, kind of impossible. You never thought yourself to be the particularly pretty type, there are way more gorgeous girls in your lectures, but he still chose you. The way he so easily asked you out still makes your inside burn a little. It wasn’t even a question, but a command. You liked what his controlling manner did to you and you don’t want to fully admit it, but you are already on your knees for this man, ready to do whatever he tells you to.
When the car finally comes to a halt you can’t really tell where exactly you are, you’re just sure it’s a neighborhood that’s definitely not for your budget. The driver helps you out of the car and tells you to let the guy at the front desk know you are Mr. Styles’ guest, they will know where to take you.
The tall building appears to be some kind of boujie hotel, but it surely has a restaurant and a bar as well. You tell the man behind the front desk that you are here to meet Mr. Styles and he escorts you to the all glass elevator, pushing the button of the top level before sending you off to your way.
Arriving to the top, a man is already waiting for you.
“Mr. Styles is already waiting for you, let me show the way,” he tells you and you mumble a short thank you as you follow him.
The top floor of the building appears to be some kind of restaurant, but it’s different from the ones you’ve been to. Every table is in a secluded area that can easily be completely locked away from the rest of the place so no one can see inside the little bubbles. The external walls are completely covered in floor to ceiling windows, giving the most breathtaking view of the city you’ve ever seen.
You follow the man past a few of these private areas until he stops at one of them and as you step inside, you spot Mr. Styles standing at the window, staring out the window with his back to you. He is not wearing his suit jacket anymore and the sleeves of his dress shirt are rolled up, putting his tattooed left arm on display. It’s such a sight, makes you wonder about what other inks he is hiding under his expensive outfit.
Hearing your heels clicking on the marble floor he turns around, eyes falling to take you in as a smirk pulls on his perfect lips you are dying to taste already.
“Y/N, you look gorgeous,” he compliments you as he walks closer and presses a soft, innocent kiss to your cheek before he ushers to the table.
“Thank you. And thank you for the invitation, Mr. Styles.”
“Please, just call me Harry. Mr. Styles is way too serious for this dinner, innit?” The boyish smirk on his lips makes you want to crawl across the table and kiss him hard, but you need to behave, you can only hope tonight will take a more intimate turn eventually.
“I hope you didn’t find me too forward earlier today.”
“I was just surprised, is all. Didn’t think I caught your attention at all.”
“Oh you did,” he nods smirking. “I couldn’t take my eyes off of you through my presentation, if you haven’t noticed.”
“Well, I did catch you sometimes,” you admit with a soft chuckle as you cross your legs under the table. “I’m sorry about the idiotic question from Nick though.”
“Don’t be. It sparkled just enough jealousy in me to make the first step later.”
“Jealousy?” you question with raised eyebrows.
“I saw him trying to chat you up through the lecture, I was close to calling him out on it and asking you out in front of your whole class, but thought I would do it in a classier way.”
“You succeeded in that,” you chuckle softly, finally taking the menu in your hands to choose. Seeing the prices your mouth dries, there are way too many zeros for your liking. Harry catches your discomfort right away.
“Don’t worry, Love. It’s all on me.”
“You know, I would have been fine with just a regular restaurant as well,” you tell him with a shy chuckle, suddenly feeling unworthy of all the hustle around tonight.
“I don’t settle for less than the best,” he simply states and it’s the most attractive thing you’ve ever heard from a man’s mouth.
“So, does that mean I’m the best as well?” you ask with a shy but seductive smile as you lean forward to your elbows, eyes locking with his.
“Yes, definitely,” he answers confidently.
“You don’t even know anything about me, how do you know that?”
He puts his menu aside as he keeps his eyes on you, his intense glare almost intoxicating. Your breathing fastens a little as you try to keep your cool, waiting for his answer.
“I can try and put it into prettier words, but I’m afraid that wouldn’t give off what I truly feel,” he starts with a serious expression. “I have a lot of self-control, Y/N. I didn’t get here with a hothead, jumping into everything without a second thought. I’m a man who likes to plan and be careful with anything he does.”
You shortly nod at his words, not entirely seeing where this is heading, but when he continues, you almost faint again.
“But when I first saw you roll your eyes at that boy in the lecture hall, I was this close,” he holds up his thumb and index finger barely touching, “to fuck you over the professor’s desk without any shame at all.”
Your lips part and cheeks heat up as you squeeze your thighs tightly. A moan almost slips from your mouth, hands gripping the edge of your chair. In just a blink of an eye, you feel your underwear getting soaking wet and he hasn’t even touched you.
“And now that you are sitting right in front of me, wearing this dress that leaves very little to my wild imagination, I need every bit of my previously mentioned self-control to stop myself from laying you across this table and make you scream my name.”
“Fuck,” you mumble under your breath, not able to control yourself any longer. Your arousal is raging, your whole body is in flames for this man.
“I was planning to bring this up later this evening, but now that we are at this point, I better just come clean,” he continues, laying his palms flat on the table. Your eyes wander to his rings and you imagine what they would feel against your bare skin. “I have an offer for you, Y/N. One that I hope you’ll find beneficial.”
“And what would that be?” you ask, a little out of breath, as if you just came back from your morning run.
“I’m way too busy to maintain a regular relationship, but I’m also not a fan of changing my partners often. I was thinking we could help each other out in a way that would be suitable for the both of us. I’m willing to support you financially with a generous amount every week if you agree to spend three or four nights at my place a week and I think I’ve made it clear that we wouldn’t be just watching movies. I’m clearly attracted to you and I would love to have you as my… lover, if you’d like to call it that way.”
His offer is quite forward, you weren’t expecting him to come up with this whole plan for this odd relationship he is talking about. You’re a little taken aback at his words, not sure what to say. You definitely share his attraction, you’d have to be blind not to feel the same way about him and it’s a fact that you could use some extra money, though you don’t know how much he is talking about just yet.
“That generous amount you are talking about…” you wonder shyly.
“Do you have a student loan?” he simply asks and you nod. You’ll probably pay that loan for the rest of your life, or that’s what you thought up until now. “I’m willing to pay it to the last cent as a starter. I also thought about taking responsibility for your rent every month and an additional amount we agree on that you get every week. It is completely up to you.”
“What?” you gasp in shock. “My loan and my rent alone are thousands of dollars.”
“Y/N,” he smiles at you warmly. “I make way more money than I could ever spend. And I do take my part in several charities, but if I’m being honest, I earned your student loan while we were just talking here. It’s not that big of a deal for me and I would love to help you wherever I can.”
It’s amusing how he didn’t sound cocky about his wealth at all, you can tell he didn’t say all those things to brag, he was just stating the facts.
“How much were you thinking for each week?”
“Two thousand seems like a fair amount to me.”
You almost choke on your breath. Two thousand every week? That’s almost ten thousand for a month!
“Two thousand? You are really trying to get rid of your money, aren’t you?” you ask with a shocked chuckle and it makes him smirk as well.
“Just when it comes to things that’s worth the amount,” he cheekily comments.
A waiter appears, interrupting the heated discussion and you realize you haven’t even decided on what you want. Luckily, Harry takes the lead and orders for the both of you and you trust his choice blindly.
“I hope I didn’t shock you too much with my offer,” he softly says once the waiter is gone again.
“It was definitely a lot, in every way.”
“But not too much, because you’re still here, I assume?”
“I have to admit it’s flattering and I could use the money as well. However my morals are telling me this could easily be mistaken for another kind of agreement, if you know what I mean.”
“In no way am I seeing this as an act of prostitution, if this is what you are referring to. It would be strictly exclusive and of course, you can end it anytime you want to. You won’t have to pay anything back.”
“I’m just still a little surprised it’s me you want to do this with. There are so many prettier girls even in my class as well. Why me?” you ask the question that’s been bugging you all evening.
Harry pushes his chair back and standing up he walks over to you, keeping his eyes locked on you the whole time, making your whole inside tremble for him. He stops in front of you, bringing a hand up to your face he runs his fingertips down the side of your face before he cups your jaw in his palm, lifting your head, angling it so your lips part and your neck stretches upwards. His thumb runs along the line of your bottom lip and you are having a hard time keeping your cool and not jumping his bones right in this moment.
“I’m a little saddened you don’t see what I see in you. You’re breathtaking, Y/N. You can capture any man’s attention and I feel honored that you are giving me your time.”
His thumb gently tugs on your bottom lip, playing with it softly and it’s driving you crazy, having him touch you while his eyes are burning into yours, this man is truly something else.
“I want to be the man who pleases you in every possible way. I want to be the one to give you everything you need. Please, say yes and I’ll make sure you will never worry about a thing as long as you let me have you.”
You want to scream yes, you want to fall to your knees and tell him to take you right then and there, but words don’t feel right for the moment. So you turn your head a little just as you grab his wrist with a hand so he can’t move it. Your lips brush against his fingertips until you stop at his middle finger. You make sure to look straight into his eyes as you slide his finger into your warm and wet mouth, lips wrapping around his digit until your teeth can bite onto the thick silver ring at the base. Harry’s lips part as you press your tongue against his finger before pulling your head back, bringing his ring with you, sliding it off him. His finger slips out of your mouth and you tip your head back, opening your lips to reveal his ring that’s caught between your teeth. This is your clear answer to his offer.
Harry draws in a shaky breath before he shuts his mouth, jaw clenching as he stares down at you still. You take the ring out of your mouth and slowly put it back on his finger. His gaze falls to his fingers for a moment before he moves away fast.
At first you get scared you took it too far and he is going to just leave you, but then you see him march to the door, he calls out to someone outside before shutting the door closed, locking the two of you away from everyone else on the other side. He walks back to the table and you gasp when he simply pushes everything off of it, every glass, plate and cutlery flies to the ground, breaking into a hundred pieces, but you don’t have too much time to process it, because Harry yanks you up from your seat and slams his lips hard against yours, one hand on the back of your head while the other one takes a strong grip of your waist, pulling your against him. You moan into his lips, kissing him back with the same amount of vehemence, the feeling of his perfect lips on your completely numbing your senses out.
You faintly feel him moving you, his hands grabbing the back of your thighs before he lifts you up and sits you on top of the now cleared out table. You part your knees wide so he can stand between them, his growing bulge meeting with your pulsing core, the friction driving you crazy immediately.
“Oh fuck!” you moan when he buckles his hips just the perfect angle so you feel just how much he desires you. His lips work their way down your throat, kissing every inch he can reach, while his hands push up your skirt, exposing your legs for his greedy fingers.
“You surely know how to drive a man crazy, Y/N,” he growls when his lips return to you, kissing you in a demanding manner. You have one hand planted behind you for support while your other one travels down his body until it reaches his dress pants. Thank God he is not wearing a belt, because you easily flick the button open with just one hand.
“Yeah? You are doing the same to me, Harry,” you breathe out, giving his pants a tug and he is quick to help you out, pushing them down his legs before his hands come to work on your underwear. He hooks his fingers unto your lacy thong, pulling it down with a swift movement, you’re surprised the fabric didn’t rip. It easily glides down your legs, falling to the marble floor as Harry gets on his knees, his face at the same level as your burning core.
“Seems like I’m having my dessert first tonight,” he hums, lips nibbling on the inside of your thighs as he moves closer to your center, fingers digging into your heated skin.
“Harry, please!” you whine when he is so close, but still hasn’t touched you where you need him the most.
“Please what, Love? Tell me what you want.”
“I want you!”
“You already have me. Where do you want me? Tell me!”
“I want your mouth on my pussy,” you pant, completely losing control over yourself. He doesn’t need more, he presses an open mouthed kiss to your clit, swirling his tongue against the sensitive bundle of nerves.
You’ve always thought you are not into it when a man eats you out. Turns out you are, but only if it’s Harry whose head is pushed between your legs. The man knows what he is doing and you know he can easily make you cum just with his lips and tongue. But right now you are dying to feel him inside you so there’s not time for more foreplay.
Grabbing onto his hair you pull him up and he is panting a little when he stands back up, his green eyes piercing down on you.
“Fuck me, now,” you tell him, getting blunt with your desires, but it seems like this is exactly what Harry likes. He smirks, leaning down he kisses you hard and you can taste yourself on his lips and tongue, it’s intoxicating. Your hands move down between your bodies and find their way into his boxers, wrapping around his erected length. He is huge, certainly the biggest you’ve ever dealt with and your inside already shakes and he is not inside you yet.
“Are you on birth control?” he asks, lips pressed against yours as he pushes his boxers down, completely freeing himself. You stroke his cock, feeling up his length in your palm, making him whimper under your touch.
“Yes. And I promise I’m clean.”
“Me too. Are you fine with going raw?”
“Please!” you beg him, every fiber in your body screaming for him.
“Be a good girl and hold onto me,” he tells you, moving your arms around his neck. He grabs the base of his cock and lines himself up with you, kissing your lips one last time before he pushes inside you gradually, but quite hard.
“Oh fuck! Harry!” you gasp at the feeling of him stretching you out, filling you up entirely. He fits inside you so perfectly, like the pieces of a puzzle finally clicking.
“So wet and warm, all that for me, baby?” he coos, staying still for a little.
“Just for you,” you whisper back, pressing your lips against his when he finally starts moving.
He starts off slow, but quickly picks up his pace, thrusting his whole length into you every time he pushes forward. You bring your legs up around his waist, locking him in your hold both with your legs and arms, just wanting to be as close to him as possible.
He fucks you so good, you completely forget about the fact that you are in some boujie restaurant and there are people outside. Your bare ass is on top of a dining table, but it doesn’t matter as long as you feel Harry’s hard cock inside you.
“Feeling good, baby?” he asks between his pants.
“Yes, oh God!” you moan, fingers digging into his luscious curls at the base of his neck.
“Are you happy you went out with me instead of Nick?”
“Don’t fucking talk about Nick when you’re balls deep inside me,” you growl just when he hits your G-spot, your eyes rolling back at the sensation. Harry chuckles before his lips attack the soft skin on your neck, kissing and nibbling it while he keeps up his steady pace.
You’re nearing the end, your whole body feels like on fire and your ass has gone completely numb on the hard table, but you don’t give a single fuck. You just want to feel him cum inside you while you cum with him.
“Harry, I’m close,” you whine, your orgasm clearly close to burst inside you.
“Cum for me, baby. Cum on my cock,” he urges you, a hand moving down between your bodies and when you feel his fingers circling on your clit, a scream erupts from you without shame.
It doesn’t take long for you to reach your high. A few more thrusts and the pleasure washes over you in waves, making you chant his name as if it was a magical spell. Seeing you orgasm throws Harry over the edge, his thrusts become uncoordinated and he whimpers uncontrollably, fingers digging into your waist until he comes to a halt, both of you panting heavily. His head falls to your shoulder as he is trying to catch his breath. Several minutes pass by before he pulls out of you, a whimper escaping your lips at the sudden empty feeling. You lean back onto your arms, chest still heaving while Harry pulls his pants back up before he walks over to the pile of debris that’s left from your table setting. He saves a napkin from the remainings and gently cleans you up with it before throwing it into the bin in the corner of the room. He then helps you off the table and gives you support while you put your underwear back on.
“M’sorry, I got a little carried away,” he chuckles softly, cupping your face in his hands, but you just smile up at him cheekily.
“Don’t be, I enjoyed every minute of it.” You steal a quick kiss before parting from him.
“Does this mean our deal is on?” he asks, eyes filled with hope as he waits for your answer.
“It definitely is,” you smirk at him before pulling him down for another kiss. You’ll never get enough of his perfect lips, whether they are pressed against your lips or somewhere lower on your body…
“Giving me the number of a Domino’s? You’re a cruel girl, Y/N.”
Nick takes the seat next to you with a huff, clearly pissed that his plan didn’t work.
“You lost the bet, Nick,” you simply tell him, not even looking up from your notes.
“What? He said no, so if you went out with me he would have been incorrect!”
“But I didn’t. So he was correct,” you retort, paying him one short glance. “Besides, I also had plans already that evening.”
It’s been one week since your dinner with Harry at SkyHigh (you later found out that was the name of the place and he also happens to own it, no wonder he had no problem with basically destroying the dining set and fucking you on the table), and you’ve already spent four nights at his luxurious penthouse, fulfilling the deal you two have agreed on. Harry made sure to show you around his home in the most pleasing way, if you might say. In a matter of time no surface will be left untouched by the two of you.
“Plans? So then why did you offer to go out with me if I get it right?” You sigh rolling your eyes, this guy is really getting on your nerves today.
“I had a date, Nick. With an actual man who can take no as an answer, but he doesn’t have to because he knows how to treat a woman. Now stop fucking bothering me, because I’m not interested in you.”
Just as you finish your little speech, your phone’s screen lights up with a text from Harry. Your anger towards Nick washes out of you in a second as you reach for the device to read his message.
Harry: Have an amazing day. Can’t wait to see you tonight.
You quickly learned that Harry is not big on using emojis when texting, but you learned to read his lines correctly. You spent Friday and Saturday night at his place, but eventually had to go home so you can get ready for school on Monday, it seems like that one night apart was just as hard on him as it was on you.
Harry is a very affectionate person, he likes to touch and to be touched, keep a hand on you at all times when you’re over. He offered you your own room for your staying, but he made it clear you are more than welcome in his bed and you’d be stupid not to sleep with him. He likes to cuddle and usually wakes up all wrapped up around you, it’s surely a sight to see such a powerful and handsome man cling onto you like a koala bear. When he is still sleeping, you like to run your fingers through his hair, gently massage his scalp. He often hums in his sleep and he looks so much younger and more carefree when he is that vulnerable to you, even if he doesn’t even know about it.
Y/N: What do you want to see me in?
You’ve stepped up your game in dirty texting since meeting Harry. He is busy throughout the day so calling him is not too convenient, you’re left with texting so he can reply whenever he has the time. It seems like he is in a boring meeting or having a breather, because he replies right away this time.
Harry: Preferably nothing, but I’m happy with whatever.
Your professor has started the lecture in the meanwhile, so you try to keep your giggle down as you read his text. He has a brilliant but also dirty mind and you can’t get enough of him.
Y/N: You’re making me misbehave at my lecture, stop with the shameless flirting!
Harry: Be a good girl.
You have to push down a moan reading his last words. This man knows his power over you and he surely likes to play with it. Leaving his text read you put the phone aside and try to focus.
You miserably fail.
The day can’t come to its end fast enough. You’re the first one to leave the room when your last lecture ends and you jolt home to pack your overnight bag. Harry has tried to convince you to let him send a car to you every time you set your feet outside, but you told him it’s useless and you like wandering on your own. Though he wasn’t entirely satisfied with your answer, he respected your decision.
When you leave your apartment you decide to swing by the grocery store so you can make something for Harry. His personal chef always makes the best dishes for the two of you, but you figure Suzan would let you take care of dessert if you asked her. So you get everything you need for a killer tiramisu before you head over to his place. He texted you earlier that he would get home around eight, meaning that you have plenty of time to do your magic in the kitchen with Suzan. At first you found it surprising how easily Harry trusted you to come and go in his house as you please, but then you realized the place has such a high security, you couldn’t do harm even if you wanted.
“Hello Suzan!” you call out happily when you arrive and the elderly woman is already working on dinner. “How are you?”
She smiles at you widely, her wrinkles swallowing her eyes almost entirely. You haven’t spent that much time around here, but you always made sure to treat the staff right. Most importantly because Harry treats them like family as well, he told you how Suzan has already retired, she works for him so she can save up some more money for her four grandchildren. Elliott, his driver has three daughters and Harry is paying for their tuition at the best school in the city which Elliott wouldn’t be able to afford on his own, no matter how much he worked. There are three cleaning ladies who work in rotation, Nadine, Juliet and Iris, all of them are working mothers, Iris is raising two boys on her own. Harry makes sure they can take a day off anytime they are needed at home and he pays them extra after each of their children and you can guess how generous that extra amount is. It’s clear that all his employees are highly appreciated here and he takes good care of them for the work they are doing. It’s such a rare thing to see especially when it comes to extremely wealthy people. But Harry is different and you find out new things to praise about him every day.
“I’m doing splendid. How was your day, Darling?” Suzan coos as you join her in the modern kitchen.
“Tiring,” you huff, setting your grocery bag on top of the counter. “I was wondering if I could take care of dessert tonight, would that be okay?”
“Oh, of course! What are you planning to make?”
“My aunt has a killer tiramisu recipe, thought I would give it a go myself,” you smile at her in excitement.
“Let me know if you need any help, alright?”
Time flies by fast as you work in the kitchen with Suzan. She tells you all about her secret for the perfect garlic sauce while you share stories with her how you used to bake with your aunt when you were younger. She is such a delight, makes you feel like home at a place you’ve been coming to for just a week.
“You have a nice evening, Darling. I’ll see you around,” she smiles once dinner is finished and set on the heating serving plates so it doesn’t cool before Harry arrives. You’re almost done with dessert as well and Harry could be home any moment.
“Thank you, Suzan, see you soon!” you call out before she leaves.
Once you are all alone you put on some music, dancing through the kitchen as you clean up after yourself, singing along to the songs without a care. Your music taste is not essentially the same as Harry’s, but he is always open to your suggestions, never missing out on a chance to listen to something you like so much.
Now The Weeknd is singing through the speakers as you twirl around the marble floor of the kitchen, putting away the cleaned dishes. You don’t even notice Harry’s arrival, you’re way too lost in the song.
“I don’t know why I run away, I’ll make you cry when I run away…” you sing with the singer, putting the finished tiramisu into the fridge as Harry walks in, a playful smirk tugging on his lips as he watches you.
He has been loving having you around, you surely bring life to his home that often feels too big and empty for him. Seeing you fool around in his kitchen brings him a warm feeling in his chest and he can’t push his smile down when you bust some weird yet interesting dance moves.
“Take me back ‘cause I wanna stay, save your tears for another…” You sing into a spoon using it as your microphone when Harry sneaks up behind you, making you jump when he curls his arms around your waist from behind. “Oh shit!” you gasp turning around in his hold. “You scared me!”
“M’sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt your worldwide tour,” he smirks smugly and you roll your eyes at him, but steal a quick kiss regardless. “What are you doing in my kitchen?”
“I was just cleaning up. I made dessert tonight, I know I’m not Suzan, but I think you’ll like it,” you smile at him proudly.
“I’m sure I will, I’m starving.”
“Great. Then go and change while I set the table for us,” you shoo him out of the kitchen, but not before he steals another quick kiss.
When the table is all set Harry returns wearing a pair of sweats and a plain white shirt. You absolutely love him in his expensive, perfectly tailored suits, but there’s something in seeing him so loose and comfy. The two of you sit at his dining table on each side of the corner so it feels intimate even with eight other empty seats at the table. He always asks about your day first, listens to whatever insignificant little thing has happened, seemingly very interested in anything you have to say.
“Nick called me out today for giving him a fake number,” you admit with a chuckle.
“Still bitter about the failed date?” he smirks at you over his plate.
“Very much. But I told him I had a date with someone else.”
“Really? Was he jealous?”
“I guess. Couldn’t feel nice when I told him I was with a man who can treat me right.” Putting your fork down you lean onto the table with a satisfied grin. Harry reaches up and caresses your cheek gently before he pinches your chin between his thumb and index finger, pulling you into a slow but definitely heated kiss.
“Love that for you,” he chuckles softly before you both return to the food. “Are you staying over tomorrow as well?”
“I can’t,” you sigh. “I have this extra credit thing tomorrow until like eight, by the time I get home, pack my stuff and get here it would be way after ten and I have an early morning the next day. I’m sorry.”
“You know, you can always just… leave some of your stuff here. You can have one of the dressers or just simply use the closet in one of the guest bedrooms.”
You’d be lying if you said you haven’t thought about it, but you were waiting for him to bring it up himself, not too keen on inviting yourself into his home more than he would want.
“You sure about that?” you ask just to be certain he wants it. He clearly has boundaries when it comes to maintaining any kind of relationship, the last thing you want is to push something on him that he is not entirely comfortable with.
“Of course. Would be easier and it’s quite logical,” he nods and you look for any sign of doubt, but you find none.
“Okay,” you shortly say. “I’ll bring some stuff over next time.”
He tells you about his day briefly after that and you give him the same amount of attention he always pays you even when you have absolutely no idea what he is talking about. It’s hot when he talks about business, gives him a lot of power.
Then you bring out dessert and watch him take his first bite in excitement, curious if he likes it.
“Mm, are these cherries?” he hums, taking a better look at it.
“Yeah. It gives the whole thing a nice sour taste, it’s a little unusual but I love it. What do you think?”
“It’s easily the best I’ve ever had.”
“Oh, don’t be such an ass kisser,” you laugh. “You eat at the best restaurants all over the world and dare to say my tiramisu is the best you’ve had?”
“It is,” he nods with a cheeky smile, his hand reaching out to pull you to his lap. You happily obey, throwing a leg over him so you sit on his lap facing him. He brings the fork to your mouth and feeds you some that you proudly take. It does taste amazing, but you doubt it’s the best he has ever had.
“I’m not lying. It really is the best.”
“You’re just saying it to get into my pants, huh?”
“Oh baby, I don’t think I have to lie to do that,” he chuckles lowly, his eyes darkening a little as he pecks your lips softly. “But I do think it’s the best because you made it just for me. Gives it something extra.”
“You are such a flirt,” you grin at him, shaking your head. He chuckles, dipping his finger into the dessert, bringing it to his face as he wipes the cream to your jawline before he leans closer and licks it off your skin.
“Mm, I am,” he hums, kissing down your neck, his hands wandering down your body until they can slide into your shorts, his fingers playing with the elastic of your underwear.
“You’re not gonna finish your dessert?” you breathe out, already getting lost in his touch, not caring much about the tiramisu anymore.
“Oh I’m planning to. But I was thinking I could eat it off of the chef herself,” he grins at you, his green eyes filled with lust and that boyish excitement you always see in them when he is trying to seduce you. Not that he has to try, he has you wrapped around his fingers just by his existence.
“Oh, I guess now is the perfect time to tell you I was lying, Suzan made it, but I don’t think she’d be a fan of your idea,” you tease him, your grin widening as his eyes meet yours.
“You are… such a pain in the—“
“Where?” you cock an eyebrow at him, fingers dancing down the length of his neck, across his chest until they reach the waistband of his pants. “Tell me, where do I pain you, Harry?”
The tiramisu quickly gets forgotten as Harry growls against your lips, pushing his chair back as he carries you into his bedroom to show you where exactly he feels that so-called pain.
“Alright, come clean. Who have you been fooling around with? You’ve completely fallen off the face of Earth these past weeks!”
Your best friend, Cece throws the question at you the moment you arrive at the bar. You laugh at her accusation even though it’s completely true.
“Who says it has anything to do with fooling around with someone?” you ask as you wave at one of the waiters. The young man quickly makes his way over to you. “Hi, a tequila on the rocks, please.”
“The best you have,” you simply tell him, your friend eyeing you in shock. The guy walks away and you turn to face Cece. “What?”
“Since when are you drinking fancy tequila? I didn’t even know you like drinking tequila on the rocks.”
You didn’t either, but it’s Harry’s favorite and he often makes you a drink as well whenever he is feeling like loosening up a little at the end of a long day. You’ve brought some of your stuff over to his so you don’t have to return home every other day now, you’ve already spent an entire week at his not long ago, only dropping by your apartment to water your plans and air the place out a little in the middle of the day. You quite enjoy going to his place straight from school and spend your evenings with him and not just in his bed, but in general. You’ve been doing a lot more things together recently, he has taken out to his favorite restaurant besides the ones he owns and you’ve been watching a lot of movies together, showing your top five to each other on cozy evenings when you didn’t feel like jumping at each other the moment Harry arrived back from work.
“I mean, I know your grandma left a good amount for you, but I thought you were saving up,” she comments.
“I am, but… I have other incomes these days,” you tell her quietly, feeling a bit guilty for talking about it.
“Okay, spill the beans. Did you become a stripper without telling me? I thought we agreed we would hit the stage together!”
You laugh at her reaction shaking your head.
“No, I’m not a stripper. I… I’m not sure if it’s the right term to use, but I guess I have… a sugar daddy now? This feels weird to say because he is not some creepy old dude.”
“What the fuck?” she gasps, slamming her hand to the table. The waiter guy arrives with your drink and gives Cece a weirded-out look, but she couldn’t care less. “How did that happen? And who’s the guy?”
You take a sip from your drink and pull your phone out, showing her a photo of Harry you recently took of him sneakily. He doesn’t like to be photographed even though he is probably the most photogenic man to ever walk the planet, so you had to get a little tricky, snapping a picture of him when he was on the phone one evening, looking so fucking good in his dress pants and white shirt, the first few buttons undone to reveal his chest tattoos he hides so well under his expensive clothes.
“Wait, I know this dude, isn’t he like that young millionaire? What’s his name… Henry?”
“Harry. Harry Styles,” you correct her.
“Yes! Bitch, where the fuck did you meet him?”
“One of my professors asked him to present at our lecture. It’s a long story, but he ended up asking me out after the lecture and he kind of gave me an offer.”
“What kind?” Cece asks with narrowed eyes as she takes a sip from her cocktail.
“Well, we cleared the air out that we are both obviously attracted to each other, so he offered to financially support me if I’m willing to spend time with him,” you tell her, implying that you’re not talking about just playing board games with him, but it seems like the message wasn’t that clear to Cece.
“Like how? Going to places with him? Cleaning his place naked?”
“Cece, we are having a sexual relationship,” you sigh. “It’s basically an exclusive relationship where we use each other for our… physical needs. I spend most of my nights at his, don’t see it as some kind of sex slavery, it’s all consensual and actually pretty nice. We spend time together, he is treating me great.”
“So… basically you are dating him?” she points out and you pull your brows together.
“No, I said—“
“I heard what you said, but it entirely fit into what we call dating.”
“Yeah, but it’s not that.”
“Does he take you out?”
“Yes,” you nod.
“You spend the nights over at his place?”
“And you said you’re exclusive, right?”
“We are, yes.”
“So the only odd thing is that he is paying you for your time, but that’s not that weird seeing that the guy could buy out the whole city if he wanted. This pretty much sounds like you two are dating.”
“But there are no emotions involved,” you tell her quickly, trying to prove your point. Cece gives you a who-are-you-trying-to-fool look and you stare back at her in confusion.
“You can’t do no emotions, Y/N. I’ve known you my whole life and there’s absolutely no chance you won’t fall for the guy if you haven’t already started falling. You are basically living in a relationship and it’s just a matter of time before you catch feelings.”
“You think you don’t have feelings for him, but you’re just living in denial,” she bluntly tells you.
You take a moment to think about what she said. The two of you have been really living like a real couple, spending time with each other as often as possible, being exclusive and acting like you really are dating, but that’s not what you agreed on. Harry made it clear he has no time to maintain a normal relationship and you’ve been honestly fine with it until now. Because you do care about him, that’s why you always make sure dinner is ready even on Suzan’s days off whenever he gets home, or why you make his morning coffee just the way he likes it, or why you text him checking in on him whenever you know he is having a rough day. These little things went over your head the whole time, but now you realize you are doing them because you care about him.
“Look, it’s not a bad thing,” Cece starts, grabbing your attention once again. “Just make sure you don’t fall entirely before finding out if he feels the same way. There’s a chance he is going through the same thing.”
Could he be? Is there a possibility that he has changed his mind about the nature of your little agreement? He surely acts like he cares about you too, he does all those seemingly insignificant things for you as well. He always sets the water a little cooler after his shower so it’s the perfect temperature when you get under the water, he offers you to choose a movie to watch even when it’s his turn and he doesn’t whine when you actually take the chance and put on another silly teenage drama to watch. He calls you in the mornings when you spend the night back at yours, telling you he just wanted to hear your voice. The way he keeps a hand on your thigh in the car or whenever you are out for dinner, it always flutters your heart, but is there a chance he is doing all these things because he has feelings for you. Your little arrangement has been going for over a month now.
Harry is a physical person in general, it could be just his nature, how he is with everyone else. He is a caring and polite man, all these tiny things could be just his decent manners, generally looking out for the person he is sharing his bed with. You can’t make yourself believe his intentions with you have changed.
“Shit,” you mumble under your breath before chugging down your whole drink at once, waving at the waiter to bring you another one.
Cece successfully gets under your skin, made you realize things you might have not even thought about if she didn’t point them out. You hate her for that, but it was also needed. The thoughts cleared out before it was too late, hopefully.
You order drink after drink and Cece has never been the type to say no to some partying. She drinks with you, only difference is that she takes it way better than you. When it’s nearing midnight, you are completely drunk, wildly dancing to the music the no name band is playing in the corner of the bar. Cece decides it’s better if you head home, but you’re quite persistent.
“I want to stay! Come and dance with me!” you beg her, but she can tell you’re close to the phase where you just pass out and she won’t be able to take you home on her own. So she takes your phone and searches for the contact she knows will help her out.
“Hey baby, having fun?” the deep voice answers the call and it makes Cece blush for a moment.
“Hi, this is, um—This is Cece, Y/N’s friend.”
“Oh. Is everything alright?” he questions, immediately becoming alerted.
“Well, she had a little too much to drink, I’m afraid. I could use some help with her before she passes out entirely.”
“Text me the address, I’ll be there in ten.”
Cece does as she was asked and then goes to finally beg you away from the dancefloor. Not too happily, but you let her walk you back to the booth the two of you shared through the night.
“Be a good girl and drink this, please,” she tells you, shoving a big glass of water into your hands, and you just grimace.
“Good girl? That’s what Harry calls me.”
“Oh Jesus, I would have been fine without this detail,” Cece chokes out, but she is pleased to see you drinking some of the water finally.
“He is so fucking great, C. Like, the whole package!” you start raving with a heavy sigh. “He is beautiful and nice and so fucking funny! And the things he does to me in bed…”
“Maybe keep those to yourself, alright?” She chuckles shaking her head.
Right at that moment, Harry barges through the door, looking around with a hard stare until he spots you sitting in the booth, still mumbling to Cece.
“Hey,” he breathes out stepping to the table. Cece’s eyes widen as he sees the man himself, wearing a pair of light flares and a simple black shirt, the first few buttons undone, revealing his thin chain with the cross pendant. Cece now gets why you are so into the man, not that she had any doubts before. “Cece, right?” he glances at her.
“Oh, um, yeah. Nice to meet you,” she stutters offering a hand that Harry shakes firmly. The man has a great hold for sure. “Sorry I called you, but I wasn’t sure I can make it back to her place with her like this.”
“Harry! You’re here!” you gasp upon realizing that the man standing at the table is him.
“Yes, baby, I am. Had a little too much fun?” he asks with a small smile playing on his lips.
“Are you mad?” you pout at him, afraid he might see you as this immature little girl who can’t stay within her boundaries when it comes to alcohol.
“I’m not, but let’s get you home, alright?” He gently caresses the side of your face and Cece watches the small interaction with parted lips. “Did you have a tab?”
“Uh, yeah. I’ll just—“
“Don’t worry about it, I got this,” he tells her, already making his way to the bar to pay your drinks.
“Isn’t he the fucking best?” you mumble to Cece, feeling out of breath from just the effort of keeping yourself in a sitting position. You really shouldn’t have drunk this much…
“He is!” Cece gasps. “I’m so jealous of you now.”
“It’s a shame he might not be that into me though,” you scoff with a frown.
“I highly doubt that.”
You don’t have a chance to react, because Harry returns and he helps you out of the booth before turning to Cece.
“Do you need a ride home?”
“I’ll be fine, I’ll just call an Uber,” she smiles at him nicely, grabbing her purse from the seat as she follows the two of you out.
“Send Y/N a text when you get home so I know you arrived safely.”
“Sure,” she giggles, feeling lightheaded that he is concerned about her. “Take good care of her, Harry,” Cece tells him as he helps you into his car. This time there’s no driver, so he makes you sit at the front, buckling you up like you’re a kid.
“I will. Thank you for calling and I wish next time we meet will be under different circumstances,” he chuckles softly before getting into the car.
The drive back to Harry’s place pulls you into a shallow slumber, enjoying the warmth of the car and the comfortable seats. Harry wakes you up just so he can help you out of the car once you arrive, but seeing how sleepy you are, he decides it’s easier to just carry you up to his bedroom.
“Harry?” you mumble under your breath when he lays you to his bed.
“Yes? Do you feel sick?”
“No,” you shake your head softly. “Sleep with me?”
“Of course,” he smiles, kissing your forehead gently. You faintly hear him shuffling around the room, probably undressing before he finally slips under the covers, his strong arm curling around your middle as he cuddles you from behind.
“M’sorry you had to pick me up,” you sigh, already sobering up slowly.
“S’alright. Get some sleep,” he tells you truthfully as he kisses your shoulder.
“You are so good to me,” you whisper, more to yourself rather than to him, but he definitely catches your words.
“Of course. You deserve the best, Love.”
“You are the best,” you breathe out before you finally fall asleep.
The morning comes with a killer headache. Harry was considerate enough to draw the curtains in, but even the lack of natural light can’t ease the pounding in your head. As you slowly blink your eyes open, you spot a big glass of water and two Advils on the nightstand with a note next to them.
“Had to go in, will be back shortly. Have a nice recovery. Xx –H”
Growling you snatch the pills from the nightstand and swallow them quickly, washing them down with the water. Then you take some time to yourself to contemplate what happened last night, staring up at the ceiling. Cece’s words still occupy your mind entirely about your feelings for Harry. Upon realizing them, you managed to get so drunk that Harry had to come to get you. He didn’t fuss about it, didn’t say a word, just took you home and put you to bed. Last night was the first time the two of you shared his bed without anything sexual happening and you’re not sure how to feel about it, you wish it happened differently, but there’s nothing to do about it now.
It’s pretty late by the time you get yourself out of bed, but Harry is still nowhere to be seen. You wonder if he is upset that he had to pick you up from a bar in the middle of the night and he is now avoiding you. The thought is eating you alive so badly that you decide it’s best if you talk to him right away and apologize for your behavior last night.
You get two coffees from his favorite place and head to his office, feeling anxious about facing him and also because it’s going to be your first time seeing him at his workplace. It’s not that he told you not to go there, but he never invited you either so you’re not sure how he feels about you showing up.
“Good afternoon, how can I help you?” the nice woman at the reception greets you upon arriving.
“Hi, I’m here to see Har—erm, Mr. Styles?” you shyly tell her.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No, but um… Can you tell him Y/N is here?”
“A moment, please,” she politely excuses herself before getting on the phone. You look around in the fancy looking hall of the building and you can only imagine what the rest looks like if the hall is like a page from an expensive interior design magazine.
“Miss?” the woman catches your attention. “Mr. Styles is waiting for you in his office. Thirty-fifth floor, Daisy at the front desk will help you out up there,” she instructs and you thank her before heading to the elevators.
It’s a long way up and people get in and out of the elevator as you make your way up to the top. You feel so out of place, everyone is dressed in fancy looking suits and dresses while you’re wearing just your usual jeans and a knitted sweater, your bag thrown across your body, the two coffees in your hands as you nervously chew on your bottom lip.
Arriving at the top, you are immediately greeted by Daisy, as the woman downstairs told you.
“Good afternoon, Miss Y/L/N, let me show you the way to Mr. Styles’ office,” she offers kindly and you follow her down the hallway that’s filled with pictures of Harry with several influential people. Some of them you recognize, singers and actors, but some are completely strange to you, though you can imagine them being big names in the business.
Daisy leads you to a double door and she knocks on it firmly before you hear Harry’s voice calling out. Daisy opens the door for you and you step into the spacious and rather luxurious office. Harry is standing behind his long desk, his eyes snapping up at you as you walk in, Daisy closing the door behind you.
“Hey, what brings you here?” he asks with a soft smile, abandoning the papers on his desk as he walks around it, kissing your cheek shortly when he reaches you.
“I, um… brought you coffee,” you awkwardly tell him, handing him his cup.
“Is that all?” he asks with a soft chuckle.
“No,” you huff. “I just… I didn’t know when you’d be back and I really wanted to apologize.”
“For what?” he furrows his eyebrows, leaning against the edge of his desk behind him.
“Last night. I totally lost control, I know I shouldn’t have drunk that much and I’m sorry you had to come and get me. It was very immature and childish of me.”
“Don’t be silly, it happens to everyone. And I’m glad Cece called me. I would rather go and get you anytime of the day than have you find your way home on your own.”
“But it’s still not your responsibility to take care of me when I randomly get drunk. Not that it happens that often.”
“Okay, but I like taking care of you,” he replies. “Don’t worry about it, alright? It’s all good. You said it yourself, it doesn’t happen all the time so I’m fine with stepping in once in a while.”
You sigh in relief, happy that he doesn’t hold a grudge for coming to your rescue last night. You were worried he would see you differently because of it, but it seems like he really is cool with it.
“Did it really get you that worried?” he asks with a soft expression, his fingers dancing across your jawline before he tips your head up so he can look into your eyes.
“Kinda,” you admit with a shaky chuckle. “I was just afraid it would make me look like a helpless child. I know you’re older than me, but I’m not like this and I don’t want you to get the wrong idea of me.”
“It was just one tiny thing among everything else I’ve seen from you during our time together. It won’t change my opinion about you that easily. It just tells me that you still like to let loose sometimes with your friends which is completely fine. You definitely should, you’re only in your early twenties. I don’t want to hold you back from experiencing things I’ve already been through.”
“So you’re telling me you’ve drank too much before and someone had to pick you up?” you ask him raising your eyebrows.
“Well, it hasn’t happened recently, but I’ve been there, yeah,” he admits chuckling.
“I can’t imagine you drunk.”
“Haven’t been in more than five years, if I’m being honest. The hangover in the morning kills the fun in it now. If I got drunk now, I would need three days to recover.”
“You’re talking like you’re sixty or something,” you chuckle, your hands finding their way to his hips as he cups your face in his palms.
“I’m halfway there already,” he smirks at you playfully, but you just roll your eyes at him.
“You’re still a hottie.”
“Glad you think that,” he chuckles before pressing his lips against yours. He takes his time kissing you, pulling on your bottom lip, playing with your tongue and you feel like a giddy little teenager. You get so lost in his kisses that you don’t even notice the knock on the door.
Harry pulls back, turning his attention towards the door that opens without his approval. When you glance over your shoulder you see a tall, gorgeous woman with fiery red hair walk in, wearing a tight dress that’s business casual but also very sexy at the same time.
“Oh, I didn’t know you had a guest,” the woman stops at the door.
“It’s alright, Diana.” Harry’s hands fall from your face and you turn to face the woman fully. She is… perfect. In every way. Her makeup, her hair, her figure, she is everything you ever wanted to be and suddenly, you feel like a little mouse compared to her. “Y/N, this is my right hand, Diana,” Harry introduces her and she steps forward with a charming smile, holding a hand out for you. “Diana, this is… a good friend of mine, Y/N.”
You try not to flinch at the title Harry gave you as you shake Diana’s hand.
A good friend? Does he fuck all his good friends?
It’s not that you agreed on a title when it comes to others, but this is not what you were expecting for sure. Would have it been that bad calling you his girlfriend? You are exclusive after all, people don’t have to know it’s just an agreement.
“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Sorry for barging in, Daisy was on the phone so I didn’t know you weren’t alone, H.”
H? She calls him H? You don’t like Diana. Not at all.
“No worries,” Harry waves in dismissal.
“I just wanted to tell you I just got off the phone with Mr. Harlow, he is willing to close the deal next week.”
“That’s fantastic,” Harry beams.
“Congrats, Harry. Another successful deal closed,” she smiles at him and you feel the sudden urge to wipe it off her face along with her stupid, perfect lipstick.
“Thank you, but it wouldn’t have happened without you.”
“I’ll start the paperwork,” Diana nods. “It was nice to meet you, Y/N,” she smiles in your way before walking out.
“She is… your partner?” you ask, trying your best to push down the jealousy that’s about to flood you entirely.
“Yeah, have been working with her for years, she is very good at negotiating,” Harry explains, his focus on the papers on his desk. You feel like this is your cue to leave.
“Cool. I’ll just… get going then.”
He glances up, leaving the papers once again, stepping back to you.
“I’ll be home soon, alright? Will try to finish soon. Choose a movie we can watch when I arrive.”
“Sounds good,” you smile faintly. He kisses you softly, running his fingers down the side of your neck before letting go of you.
All while you’re at Harry’s place on your own, you keep thinking about Harry. To be exact, Harry and Diana and what they might be doing in his office. They spend so much time together through the week, and Diana is literally the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. There’s no way she and Harry have nothing going on. But even if they weren’t hooking up, why would Harry choose you over her?
The more you think about it, the worse it gets. Your thoughts get clouded by jealousy and you have no idea how to stop it. You keep reminding yourself you don’t have the right to feel this way, but you just can’t help it.
When Harry arrives late noon, you already feel out of control. He barely makes it into the living room, you throw yourself at him.
“Hey, missed me this much?” he chuckles, but wraps his arms around you anyway, walking you to the couch.
“I always miss you,” you truthfully admit, kissing the corner of his mouth. You want to feel him, you want to be the one to please him so you can convince yourself you are the only one who can make him feel that way.
You push him down to the couch, straddling his lap before your lips attack his, kissing him hard and passionately. Your fingers work fast on his shirt, pushing it down his toned arms as you grind against him, the friction of his growing erection underneath you already driving you crazy.
“I want to make you feel good,” you moan against his lips, hands wandering down his chest and abs until you reach his pants, unbuttoning it without wasting a moment.
“I’m all yours, baby,” he breathes out, sinking into the soft cushions. Before you could reach into his pants and free his throbbing erection, you pull back just enough to look into his eyes.
“You are?” you ask quietly, his green eyes burning into your gaze.
“Yes,” he nods, a hint of seriousness obvious in his look. You believe him and it just riles you up even more. You need to have him. Now.
Kissing him once again, you move down until you are kneeling between his legs, hands pulling down his pants along with his boxers. His hard cock springs free, so glorious and welcoming, all ready just for you. You wrap your hand around it, giving it a few pumps before leaning closer and kissing the tip softly. Harry whimpers under your touch, his head falling back in his pleasure. Sticking your tongue out you give his whole length a lick, spitting on it at the end to wet his skin and get him ready for you.
“Shit,” he moans, his hand moving to your hair as you wrap your lips around him, pushing down on him slowly, enjoying how he completely falls apart under your touch.
Seeing him in this state is better than any drug. Such a powerful and unreachable man, completely vulnerable just for you, it’s a dream come true.
He is pushing on your head but not hard enough to control your movement, it’s just a nice pressure to let you know what he wants. You start bobbing your head, taking him as deep as you can without gagging, working your hand on the rest you can’t reach with your lips.
“Oh fuck, Love, you are such a good girl,” he pants, his hips buckling up to meet your head’s movements. He is so deep inside your mouth, you suck on him hard, your hand that’s been on his thigh moves to hos balls, gently massaging them to add to the sensation.
“I want you to cum in my mouth,” you tell him when you come up for some air, panting your words heavily.
“You sure?” he asks. It’s not the first time you’re sucking him off, but he never finished in your mouth before. You nod confidently before you sink his length back into the warmth of your mouth.
Harry grips your hair harder, more and more whimpers and moans leaving his perfectly pink lips as he nears his end. You are desperate to please him, to see him come undone under your touch, to have an effect of any kind on him.
You press the head against the inside of your cheek, the change of contact catching him off guard and he growls your name when you sink down on him one more time before he finally orgasms, his cum spurting to the back of your throat.
“Oh fuck, baby!” he breathes out, completely lost in his high as you let go of him with a pop and sit back on your knees, pleased with the state you managed to pull him into.
He reaches out for you, bringing you to his lap while he pulls at least his boxers back up. You sit on his thighs as he nuzzles his nose against the crook of your neck, his touch is so delicate and soft, as if he wasn’t cursing and moaning your name just a few moments ago.
“What was that for?” he questions with a soft smirk on his lips.
“Do I need a reason to suck you off?”
“Absolutely not, I was just… surprised.”
“Did you like it?” you arch an eyebrow at him.
“I think it’s pretty obvious that I loved it.”
“Then that’s all that matters,” you smile sweetly at him, kissing his lips chastely.
You successfully forget about the existence of Diana for about a week. Everything is back to its normal, you spend at least five days a week at Harry’s place, basically already living there. He takes you out on Friday which ends up in some hot sex in his hallway, because according to him, your dress was way too hot for him to control himself any longer, but you’re not complaining.
You’ve been planning to go for some book shopping on Saturday, the urge to read something new has been killing you and Harry offers his company for your little trip, suggesting the two of you have lunch somewhere near the pier.
Saturday morning you are woken up by featherlike kisses on your bare shoulder, and a warm palm massaging your hipbone before moving closer to the between of your legs.
“Mmm, mornin’,” you hum into the pillow, smiling to yourself when you feel Harry pressed up against you from the back, his excitement very evidently poking your bum. His lips kiss their way up your neck and jawline and when you finally turn your head they meet your lips in a sweet morning kiss.
“Slept well?” he asks in his deep morning voice.
“Mhm,” you smirk, feeling his fingers teasing you between your legs. “What are you doing, Mr. Styles?”
“I had a dream about you,” he murmurs, his lips nibbling on the soft skin where your shoulder meets your neck. His fingers slide between your folds and it’s no surprise you are already wet for him.
“Yeah? What happened in that dream?”
“I fucked you from behind. Woke up with a painful hard-on,” he bluntly tells you, a smirk tugging on your lips. Moving a hand behind you, your palm meets his very obvious erection that’s been poking your ass. Wrapping your palm around him you give him a few pumps, earning some soft moans against your skin as you arch your back and angle him so when he thrusts forward, his cock slides right between your legs, but not inside you just yet.
“Do you have dirty dreams about me often?” you ask in a teasing voice as you start moving your hips, making his dick slide between your wet folds, the tip poking at your clit every time you push backwards.
“It’s been occurring more often lately,” he admits, his hand moving up on your body, slipping under the thin fabric of your top that you threw on last night before falling asleep, his palm covering your breast, giving it a nice squeeze that makes you moan shamelessly.
“What happens in those dreams usually?” you breathe out, the friction of his cock between your legs building up your own orgasm slowly.
“Not sure it’s very gentlemanlike to share them with you,” he chuckles boyishly, pressing an open mouthed kiss to your shoulder as he pinches your hardened nipple with his fingers.
“Showing your hard dick into my ass is not that gentlemanlike either, if you ask me,” you call him out grinning smugly and it earns you a harder thrust between your legs.
“You bring this out of me,” he growls into your ear, tugging on your earlobe gently as the urge to feel him fill you up grows inside you.
Just when you reach between your legs, ready to usher his length inside you, his phone starts vibrating on his nightstand and you growl in frustration when he reaches for it, stopping what you had going on entirely.
“M’sorry, baby. I have to take this.”
“Really? Now?” you whine as he pulls away from you, grabbing a pair of clean boxers from his dresser as he brings the phone to his ear.
“I’ll make it up to you,” he grins before answering the call, walking out of the room, but you still hear him greet the person on the other end of the line. “Hi Diana, what’s up?”
He left you in bed all riled up for Diana? Is he fucking serious?
Jealousy and rage washes over you in a blink of an eye as you push yourself up in the bed. You can’t believe he chose her over you on a Saturday morning, he could be balls deep inside you by now, but he is now probably locked up in his study, talking to Diana.
You march into the bathroom, feeling like a cold shower might help you, but as the water rains down on you, you still feel like you’re about to burst and it might be because you were getting close to your orgasm.
Driven from a sudden idea, you grab the removable showerhead and change the setting of the water stream on it before moving it between your legs. It’s nothing like Harry’s dick or even his touch, but it’s what’s left for you, because the man you want is too busy talking to another woman. You reach down and start playing with your clit, the stream pushing you towards your edge more and more and you’re desperate for a release.
When it finally comes, you let go with a gasp. The bitter taste in your mouth ruins it for you however and you keep thinking about how it wasn’t Harry who made you feel good. Raging thoughts flood your mind as you get out of the shower and get dressed.
You are sitting at the kitchen island, drinking on your morning coffee when Harry emerges from his study.
“Sorry about that, it was kind of an emergency.”
“No worries,” you dryly answer, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
“When do you want to leave? Have you eaten? We could have brunch somewhere near the mall.”
“Oh, I forgot that I was invited for a birthday party tonight and I thought I would check in on my apartment, get ready there. I haven’t been home for a while.”
Harry grabs himself a bottled water as he joins you at the kitchen island, looking at you with furrowed eyebrows.
“We can drop by your place after shopping and then come back here.”
“Yeah, but I really want to clean up a bit there and you know, pretend like I still use that place.”
I also would love some space from you, because right now, I’m way too close to flipping over this whole Diana thing.
“Yeah. Can we postpone the shopping to next week maybe?”
“Works for me,” he simply shrugs, giving you one last look before dropping the whole thing.
You are out of Harry’s place before twelve and arriving back to your place, you can’t help but feel this sharp pain in your chest whenever you are thinking about him, which is basically every second.
You can’t lie to yourself anymore, everything you feel whenever it comes to Harry, it all points to one inevitable thing: you are hopelessly in love with the man. And to think that he might be into someone else is heartbreaking. You can’t stop thinking about how he might have feelings for Diana instead of you and it takes a toll on you, crushing you unmercifully.
You didn’t lie about the birthday party, you just didn’t plan on going, but this morning changed your mind and you decided you could use some time apart from Harry and the party gave you the perfect excuse. You weren’t essentially good friends with the people that were invited, but they seemed like a nice bunch so you thought it couldn’t hurt to give it a go.
The only thing that’s already pissing you off by the time you arrive at the bar is that Nick is there too, being friends with the birthday girl as well.
“Well, well, well! Haven’t seen you outside of the lecture hall in a long time,” he smirks at you once you are settled with your drink. He sits beside you, luckily keeping some distance but you’re ready to kick him in the balls if he tries to get closer.
“I’ve been busy.”
“With the man you went on a date with when you were supposed to meet me?”
“Okay, first of all, I was never supposed to meet you, Nick. Stop pretending like we ever had anything going on. And second, yes, I’ve been with that man.”
“Is he your boyfriend?” he questions and you almost snap at him saying yes, but then you realize that it wouldn’t be true. “So he is not? I guess then you still can go out with me finally.”
“Just stop already, okay? How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not interested?” you growl at him, turning away from him to join the conversation on your other side.
Later that evening a group photo is taken and uploaded to Instagram and it’s mere coincidence that Nick is still sitting next to you when it is taken. You don’t pay much attention to it, even share the picture in your story as well, but until you get a text from Harry.
Harry: Didn’t mention Nick would be there too.
You stare at it for a few moments, not sure how he knows Nick is there and then you realize. As unusual as it seems, Harry has an Instagram, he just never posts on it, only following his close friends… and you.
Opening the app you quickly scroll through who has seen your story and there he is, Harry’s name hidden somewhere at the bottom, but it’s clearly there.
Y/N: Didn’t think I have to report every time I see him somewhere.
Your reply feels just as passive aggressive as his was, or that’s what you think. His answer comes in seconds.
Harry: The guy has been trying to get into your pants since forever, would have been nice if you told me he was there too.
Y/N: A lot of things would be nice, Harry.
Harry: Are you trying to imply something?
Y/N: Idk, you’re a smart man, figure it out.
You mute the phone and place it to the table, ready to ignore it for the rest of the evening, but you don’t make it too long. About ten minutes later the screen lights up with a call from Harry. At first you want to ignore it, but then you climb out of your seat and walk outside so you can hear what he is saying.
“What?” you snap not too friendly.
“You didn’t fucking answer my texts!”
“Did it occur to you that it’s because I don’t want to talk to you right now?”
“What’s with the attitude all of a sudden?” he questions and you can tell he is getting angry but he is not the only one with a temper.
“I don’t know, Harry. You text me about Nick out of nowhere, demanding to know whenever he is around me as if he was some kind of criminal. What’s up with that?”
“I told you, the guy is always up in your ass, you’ve told me yourself, I just don’t like it that he is anywhere around you.”
“Out of the two of us it’s not you who gets the right to feel that way. As far as I know I didn’t leave you naked in bed right when we were about to have sex for another person. Think about that for a moment,” you throw it at him, feeling relieved you can finally speak your mind. The line gets silent for a moment and you wish you could see his face at the moment.
“I’m coming to get you,” he then states, it’s definitely not an offer.
“You are not.”
“I am. We are not having this conversation over the phone.”
And with that, the line dies. You could throw the phone against the wall in frustration, he could piss you off so badly, you hate how much effect he has on you.
The bar where you are is not too far from Harry’s place and you barely get yourself another drink and return to the table when he walks in. You don’t spot him at first, but other girls from your group do.
“Oh my God, it’s that hot businessman from Professor Robertson’s class!” One of the girls, Mindy gasps and your eyes snap over to Harry who is roaming the place, clearly looking for you. He is wearing a pair of light washed jeans and a simple, black long sleeve, his hair a little messy, but he still looks breathtaking. You hate him for that.
“Shit,” you mumble under your breath, right when he finally spots you and makes his way towards you.
“He is coming here, oh my God!” the girls gasp in excitement while you are trying to figure out a way to escape the situation, but you miserably fail.
“Y/N,” he calls out your name stopping at the table, his eyes flickering over to Nick who sits two people down from you. You spot the frown on his face, but he manages to control himself so others don’t notice his hate towards the guy.
“I’m not leaving with you,” you simply shake your head the rest of the group watching the scene unfold intently.
“Wait, he is the guy you’ve been seeing?” Nick speaks up upon realizing the situation. “You are fucking Harry Styles?”
“Nick, shut the fuck up,” you snap at him, completely over his shit at this point.
“Mind your own business,” Harry tells him, but just as expected, Nick doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut.
“No, wait. You turned me down and then went out with him? He is like, what, thirty or something?”
“So what?” you give him a puzzled look.
“Shouldn’t you be with someone your age?”
“No, she shouldn’t,” Harry answers before you could even think of an answer. “Don’t put the blame on others for being a disgrace to men and bothering women when they are clearly not interested in you. Grow up and try to get some manners for yourself and maybe you won’t die a virgin, buddy.”
Everyone gasps at the way Harry put Nick to his place and you can’t hide your smirk either, no matter how angry you are at Harry. Nick just mumbles something under his breath totally defeated before he disappears in the direction of the bar as Harry turns back to you.
“Y/N, can we please talk?”
“I told you, I don’t want to talk right now.”
“But we fucking need to, so would you please at least come outside so we don’t have to do this in front of all these people?” he snaps, clearly running short on his patience and you’re not sure you want to wait for when it’s completely gone.
Sighing you grab your phone from the table and shimmy your way out of your seat once again, walking out of the bar with Harry following right behind you.
“You can’t just come here and order me around, Harry, not when I especially told you I don’t want to see you!”
There’s a little alleyway next to the bar and you snap at him the moment you are hidden from the prying eyes and ears.
“You can’t expect me to just sit around at home and wait for you to come back whenever it’s convenient for you.”
“But that’s exactly what you should have done! You don’t have the right to be all… possessive and act like a fucking cave man just because Nick was next to me on a picture! Not when you fucking leave me in bed for a call from Diana!”
“Y/N, it’s not what you think, okay? Let me explain it to you.”
“Okay, explain why you chose her over me and if we are at it, just let me know if you want this whole thing over because I definitely won’t be second after her. I did not sign up for that.”
“What?” he looks at you with widened eyes. “Why would I want to end it?”
“Because you clearly have a thing going on with Miss Perfect!”
“Diana and I are just friends. Have always been.”
“Oh yeah, and should I just believe it?”
“Well, you might want to, because she is married and very much planning to start a family with her husband.”
You instantly freeze. You were not expecting this information and it throws you off. It never occurred to you that Diana might have a spouse herself, you were way too hung up on the thought of her and Harry.
“I know this morning was very awkward and I wouldn’t have answered the call, but she’s been having trouble with getting pregnant, her and her husband, Peter have been trying for years now and she’s just started treatment to help her conceive. She called because her lab results came back and they weren’t as promising as she hoped them to be. We’ve been friends for a long time, I’ve been there with her through it all and I’m her closest support other than Peter. I’m sorry I made it seem like I chose her over you, I was just not sure if I should share it with you. After all, it’s not my place to talk about it, and to be honest, I didn’t think it would leave such a scar in you, baby.”
Now you just feel like the biggest asshole in the entire world. You had this whole situation mistaken and let your insecurities get into your head.
“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t think…”
“You couldn’t have known. I’m sorry too, could have handled the situation way better.” Harry takes a few steps closer now that he is sure you won’t throw a punch at him and reaching up he runs his fingers down the side of your face. “And I’m sorry about this Nick thing, but I just… completely lost my mind when I saw him next to you on the picture.”
“You should know the best out of everyone that he has no fucking chance at me.”
“I know, but still, I’m a very jealous man, especially when it comes to people I love.”
Your lips part and eyes widen as his words set in. Did he really just say that he loves you or is he just playing some kind of cruel game with you?
“Y/N, this was not my plan, but I couldn’t help it. You swept me off my feet with your whole being and I fell in love with you. I tried to tell myself it’s just a momentary thing, but it’s not. I think about you when you’re not with me and every time I wake up and I see you next to me I know it’ll be a good day because it started with you. I fucking love you and I’m done pretending I’m not. I want you, the whole… relationship thing with you, I want to be the man who makes you happy. Please tell me you feel the same,” he begs and for a moment you think he’ll get on his knees in front of you, but he stays stood, hands cupping your face as you stare back at him, completely in awe at his words. You wrap your hands around his wrists as you smile at him.
“If my jealousy filled scene wasn’t enough proof for you, I do feel the same about you, Harry.”
“You do?” he asks, excitement filling his beautiful green eyes that appear way darker under the poor light that’s coming from the street.
“I would be stupid not to,” you admit with a chuckle. “I’ve been in love with you for a while now. Took me some time to realize, but I’m quite sure about it now.”
“Oh my Love, you have no idea how happy you just made me,” he chuckles in relief before pressing his lips against yours, kissing you with all his feelings. He kisses you over and over again, pushing you backwards until your back meets the brick wall. He grabs the back of your thighs and makes you wrap your legs around his waist as he keeps you up easily, his lips never leaving yours.
“Come home with me, please. I want to make love to you,” he breathes against your lips and your heart flutters at his words.
“Take me home then,” you giggle, pressing your forehead against his.
For a few minutes the two of you stay like that, enjoying the closeness and the intimacy of the moment and you wonder what could be going on in his head.
“What are you thinking about?” you ask, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.
“I just… have to thank Trevor for his invitation,” he tells you, but you just give him a puzzled look. “Professor Robertson. If he didn’t invite me to his lecture I would have never met you. I owe him one,” he explains with a chuckle, making you laugh as well.
“So, does this mean you’ll finally introduce me as your girlfriend when we meet someone?”
“I assume you caught on that when you met Diana,” he breathes out. “I actually wanted to call you my girlfriend, but didn’t know how it would sit with you.”
“So you called me your good friend?” you ask with a chuckle.
“Wasn’t the brightest solution, right?”
“Not really. It made me wonder if you fuck all your good friends.”
“Just the ones I’m in love with,” he smirks at you cheekily, stealing a quick kiss.
“Oh, are there more?” you ask raising your eyebrows at him, pushing his hair out of his forehead gently.
“Just you. My only good girl,” he answers before kissing you again.
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed!
4K notes · View notes
TW: rough sex, multiple partners, overstimulation, oral sex, penetration, spanking, choking, hair pulling, smacking (face), fingering, bruising
Word count: 6.8K
Summary: When you go to a new gym for special workouts but you aren't getting your needs met. Your trainer is here to help, offering special sessions to help get both of your sexual frustrations out.
A/N: Okay, shit writing BUT just think about the concept. I took the liberty of writing this piece because I couldn't get it out of my head!! This collab was really fun to do! Although stressful, I would love to do it again! Check out all the other writer's work for this collab! They are all so talented and just W O W
Inspired by the Korean Webtoon: Sexercise! It's actually really good and I was so obsessed with it. Here's my version but with Bakugou <3
Also, sorry if I tag the trigger warnings wrong >< I'm so new to this!
You stepped out of the freshly, hot shower, carefully drying every inch of your body before putting on the exercise clothes the gym had provided you.
You know. You didn’t bring your own clothes and the gym gave you some to wear? Well, this isn’t your typical gym.
It all started when you saw their promotion flyer hidden behind many others on the bulletin board on your way home. You’ve been meaning to get back to the gym and this one looked promising. A new form of exercise that’ll make you come back for more? Curiosity got the best of you and you headed to the gym to check it out.
Upon arriving, it looked like a regular gym. They had all the necessary equipment that you see in any gym. What’s so special about this gym? And what ‘new form’ of exercise were they talking about, you asked yourself.
“Hi, are you new here?” you hear a voice from behind you. You spun around to see a beautiful, fit woman greet you.
“Ah, yes I’m actually looking to sign up for that new form of exercise written on this flyer,” you explained, showing the lady the flyer you picked up. She grabbed it from you, shocked and disbelief written all over her face.
“Who the fuck did this?” she grumbled under her breath. But she did it right in front of you so you heard everything she said. She didn’t sound too happy, by the way her eyebrows crunched in rage. Her reaction made you back away, feeling uncomfortable. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to come to this gym after all. The lady noticed how you were shifting in your stance and cleared her throat, fixing her posture to look professional.
“Sorry if I scared you,” she laughed embarrassedly. “We just don’t promote this gym very much so it was a surprise to see this flyer. I’m guessing you’re not familiar with the workouts we do here?”
“Uhm, not really,” you say shyly. She looks you up and down and thinks for a moment. Then, she goes behind her desk and pulls out this thick contract.
“Well, before we get started, I’m going to need you to sign this nondisclosure agreement and fill out your personal information here. After all this is completed, I can take you around for a tour!” she exclaimed. You were a bit reluctant to even sign this and was about to walk out the door. What kind of gym is this that you need to sign an NDA? But it couldn’t hurt right?
When you signed the last line of that NDA form, she took you on your tour right away. And that’s when you found out the through about this gym.
“Good, I wanna see 10 more reps.”
This gym helps their members enjoy working out through the pleasure of sex.
So here you were, stretching your muscles out in your assigned room for your first session. You felt that familiar feeling at the bottom of your stomach due to nervousness and excitement. You’ve always loved having sex. Having multiple partners? Eh, not so much. But you’ve been single for way too long and it’s been a while since you’ve had a good sex experience. Plus, you’ve been meaning to start exercising again so this was such a perfect gym for you. You’re just hoping that it’ll meet your expectations.
You heard two voices coming in your direction. A muscular man with dark green hair and similar clothes to what you were wearing and an angry, blondie with a trainer outfit on were entering the room, chatting away like they knew each other.
“(y/n)?” the blonde one spoke up.
“Ah, yes. That’s me,” you wiped your sweaty palms on your pants and reached out your hand to shake the trainer’s hand.
“Bakugou. I’ll be your trainer today,” he introduced himself. His palm in yours felt so heavy andstrong. He gripped your hand firmly, but only for a second and let go, his presence leaving you empty. Who knew that someone could have that kind of effect on you. You wanted so badly to take his large hands and have them roam all around your bod- You shook your head out of these naughty thoughts. What were you thinking? Sure, you were having sex but this was your workout, not some hookup. Plus, he’s your trainer. He’s not the one you were going to have sex with. It was that handsome hunk beside him.
“Introduce yourself,” Bakugou nudged the man. The green-haired man gave you a shy smile and a small wave.
“Midoriya Izuku. Most people call me Deku, but you can call me by what makes you most comfortable,” Deku says. You smile. His personality and demeanor reminded you of a puppy. But not a small puppy. He was more like a Great Dane: sweet but large in size. Looking at both of them now, they were both very muscular, almost towering over your small figure. You looked over at your trainer who was writing something down on his clipboard. Now he was very attractive. He’s got the face, the voice, the body. God, he was your type. Your partner was also good looking. No matter how much you wanted to have this session with someone else, your partner will do for now. With a build like that, you were sure you were going to enjoy this sex session.
“Alright, (y/n). Since this is your first time here, I’ll run over the basics. Before every session, each partner will give the other a massage to loosen up. If you could lay on the mat, please,” he instructs, pointing over to the mat that was laying on the floor.
You nodded in understand, laying on your stomach and resting your chin on your arms. Deku comes up behind you, sitting on top of the back of your legs. You jump in surprise, but Deku hushes you and gently pushes you back down.
“I’ll make you feel good, don’t worry,” he leans down to whisper in your ear.
Deku starts his massage by pressing both of his thumbs in the middle of your back, going up your spine. You almost let out a moan of pleasure from how good you felt. His large hands felt amazing on your back. Damn, forget about the sex. You’ll gladly be content with this. His hands skillfully rubbed your entire back, switching between a firm and soft pressure. You definitely felt relaxed and comfortable now. So this is why they start off every session with a massage. You were about to fully succumb to his touch, that is, until your trainer interrupted you.
“Okay, you can switch now. Sir, please lay on your stomach,” he instructed. Ah, right. You were still being talked through everything by Mr. Grumpy Pants here. Deku was used to this, so he laid down and you were the one to get on top now.
You started your massage off slow. Your touch was soft and gently, trying to touch every part of his body and get him to relax as much as possible. You tried copying a few of his moves, improvising here and there. So far, so good. You could feel Deku’s muscles loosen under you and he sighed in satisfaction.
“Alright, sir. Now I’m gonna have you lay on your back. Ma’am, go ahead and massage his chest,” Bakugou instructed. Swiftly and skillfully, Deku maneuvered his body around so that you were straddling his waist from the front.
“Oh!” you made a sound of surprise. You could have gotten up and let him take his time turning around, but he had his own plans. You could tell he’s done this many times before.
You were shy about giving him the massage at first. It’s not the first time you’ve touched a man’s chest, but it was your first time giving a massage with the man looking at you with such intense eyes. Deku’s hands were crossed behind his head, enjoying the show he was given. His eyes never left yours for a second, making sure he mapped every inch, every curve of your body and imprinted in his brain. You didn’t know where to look. While he was staring at with you eyes of lust, you were looking anywhere else but him; his chest, the floor, your hands. How could you concentrate when he’s looking at you like that?
You couldn’t help but shift in your position to get more comfortable, but in doing so, you sat right on his crotch. A bolt of electricity shot through your body when you felt his hard on growing larger with each passing second. It took you everything in your power not to moan right then and there. You didn’t want to look desperate so soon in the session. But Deku was making it so hard. Bakugou looked up from his clipboard to see a very obvious tent in the male’s pants.
“Hard already? It’s only the beginning of the massage,” Bakugou pointed out. Deku smirks and puts one hand on your thigh, caressing firmly.
“What can I say? She’s a beautiful girl,” Deku compliments. Bakugou doesn’t respond to his comment and instead, instructs him to do something else.
“Sir, please massage her breasts in this position,” Bakugou says. Without hesitation, Deku gropes your breasts with his massive hands. Every time he squeezed a bit too tightly, every time he readjusts his pose, it was all driving you mad. The heat between your thighs was telling you that you wanted, needed, to be touched. You bit your lips to stop another moan from coming out. Deku takes notice of your small action and decides, with a devilish smirk, to take matters into his own hands. He grabs a hold of your waist and juts his hips upwards so that his boner rubbed against your sopping, wet cunt. With so much force he put into that thrust, your body got pushed forward, allowing Deku to grab your breasts even more tightly. Finally, that long awaited moan escapes your lips.
“There we go,” Deku whispers, continuing his movements. You closed your eyes, enjoying the friction he was supplying you with. But before anything could get too heated, Bakugou, once again, interrupts.
“You probably already know what to do but I’ll explain just in case,” Bakugou starts, putting down his clipboard and goes to the draw that was sitting on the side. He brings out a bottle of oil and kneels behind you. “May I?” he asks while pointing to your top.
“Ah, yes,” you softly say. With his rough, calloused hands, he rakes his fingers up your side before removing your top. Your breasts spill out with a flop, making Deku’s eyes widen in thirst. Bakugou disregards his reaction, continues to put oil on his hands and starts to massage your breasts.
“Be careful when massaging women’s breasts. You don’t want to be too rough that it hurts or too soft that she can’t feel anything. The closer you get to the nipple, the more sensitive she is so be careful when touching them,” Bakugou explains. Like a pro, he starts to play around and twists your sensitive nipples. But just like in his explanation, he used different pressures in different areas to give you the ultimate pleasure. You moan in ecstasy, allowing yourself to submit to his touch. The back of your head landed on his shoulder and you just laid it there while he played with your breasts. Bakugou chuckled softly in your ear and gently pushed you up.
“Okay, give it a try,” he was addressing Deku. Deku nodded with excitement, eager to continue the session. Bakugou guides you to your partner, but his touch lingered on your back for a second too long. You looked back at your trainer and made eye contact with those fiery, crimson eyes. But your attention was stolen by the green-haired man under you. Deku had this talk to many times before that he goes right in to touch your soft, naked tits. It doesn’t take long for his tongue to find its way to your nipple. His wet tongue sliding against your sensitive buds excited you and only made you want more. You started griding your hips downwards to meet his upwards thrusts.
Very quickly, the chemistry between you two started getting more heated. Clothes were coming off one by one. Deku moves so that he is sitting up while you straddle. You cupped his face and brought him in for a kiss. As you guys were making out, you pull his shirt up to reveal part of his abs. At first, you just wanted to tease and feel his body but your horniess was off the charts and just touching caused you to want more of him.
For a moment, Izuku separates from you to take his shirt off and then his lips are right back on yours. Then he leans you back so you’re laying on your back and he’s leaning over you. He quickly disposes of his clothes and then rips your pants off. He sees that you’re already so wet and don’t need prepping. Neither does Deku apparently. When you looked down, he dick was so erect that precum was already leaking out.
Deku leans over you, panting slightly from your make out session, and lines his dick up with your entrance while pumping it a few times. Before he’s right about to stick it in, Bakugou slaps the back of his head. A now agitated Deku springs up, but before he could say anything, Bakugou just throws a condom at him.
“Slow down. Don’t forget that this is an exercise session. Now I want to see 50 reps,” Bakugou scolded.
“Fuckin hell,” he complains. He looks back at you and smirks. “Ready?” You nod eagerly wanting more than anything to just be fucked right now.
Deku slides his throbbing cock inside your long awaited pussy and you swear you could see stars. The stretch from his thick, veiny dick felt so amazing that your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Deku stayed still to let you adjust to his size. The feeling of being stuffed by a fat cock, and by a handsome guy at that, is already making your pussy clench tightly around him.
Deku lets out a sigh of pleasure and starts thrusting. The numbing feeling caused all his hairs to stand on end.
God, when he put his dick in, man did it feel good. But as soon as he started fucking you, you didn’t feel fully… satisfied. The initial stretch was the best feeling you’ve had yet. For some reason, the sex didn’t feel as good as you wanted it to be. Maybe you were too into your head? Maybe you just had to relax and just have a good time. But that was hard to do when your partner was whispering the countdown to himself.
There was no doubt that Izuku was enjoying his time with you, but he was so concentrated on the 50 reps that he wasn’t thinking about making you feel good. He thrusted inside you, not taking into consideration of where inside you he was hitting. Heat rushed to your cheeks in embarrassment. This wasn’t what you had in mind for your first session. You felt bad that you weren’t enjoying it, but you didn’t want to show it. With each snap of his hips, you forced out a moan to make it believe that you were having a good time. Every now and then, you’d let out a bigger, more convincing moan to change it up a bit.
This sucks. What’s the different between this and having sex with some stranger after a night out? They both can’t hit the right spot. He isn’t even going the speed you want him to. You wanted to be pounded into. You wanted him to fuck you so hard and so rough that you can’t walk the next morning. You wanted him to leave dark bruises all over your body but he wasn’t giving it to you.
You started getting bored midway through his reps and opened your eyes to look around the room. Maybe you could entertain yourself some other way while Deku was having his fun. You happened to look at your trainer who was looking at his own clipboard. He wasn’t even paying attention to you guys at all. He was writing down notes. What was he really writing though? Bakugou glanced away from his notes and made eye contact with you for a quick second. It was only for a second but it was enough to make you feel embarrassed that you got caught. You immediately closed your eyes to pretend that that small little eye contact didn’t happen.
“…48…49….50!” Izuku finally finished, giving you a nice, deep, hard thrust to finish it all off. That was good, but not enough. You eventually got fed up and flipped him over so that now you were on top. You were going to ride him until you were satisfied and full. But before you could lower yourself onto him, Deku holds your shoulders to stop you. He became a little flustered that you decided to take control because this wasn’t a part of the session. He looked at Bakugou for approval and he sighed, but eventually nodded his head.
“We can change it up,” Bakugou allowed. “But, (y/n). Now I want to see 50 reps from you.” He instructed.
“Yes sir,” you replied quickly. You just wanted him inside you, you didn’t have time for this chit-chat. So slowly but surely, you lowered yourself onto his dick, gasping the way he filled you up. You were able to fully sit, his dick disappearing completely inside you. The tip finally hit you where you wanted. Using your heels as leverage, you moved in the way you wanted. You made sure that pull all the way out before slamming into his dick again, loving the way he just fills you up. You loved how you were in control, shaking your ass up and down, hearing your sloppy cunt slap against his skin, how wet it must be down there.
God, but you wanted more. You guided Deku’s hands to grab your ass but all he does it grab onto it. Maybe a squeeze here and there. He was so entranced in the sex, his head was tilted back with his eyes shut closed, constant moans escaped his mouth. He loved the feeling of your pussy clenched around him to even think about anything. But you bit your lip in frustration. You didn’t want his hands just laying on you. You wanted him smack it with as much force as he could. He could put those muscles to use and man handle you a little. But you were here to fend for yourself. A visible pout was permanent on your lips but your partner wasn’t able to see it because he was enjoying himself below you.
But your trainer did. Bakugou was paying close attention to you. From the moment Izuku’s cock entered you to your little pout, he noted every movement and every expression you made. He raised an eyebrow, noting that small action and saving it for later.
Deku’s moans were growing louder and more inconsistent. He bucked his hips up, trying to be in motion with you but was getting sloppier by the second. It soon became too much for him and hot, white cum exploded inside the condom.
“Fuuuuck,” Izuku let out one last breath and flopped his arm out in exhaustion. He took a minute to catch his breath while you were getting off him and already started cleaning yourself up. Dammit, you didn’t even cum.
You were gathering your belongings, meanwhile, Izuku was chatting it up with Bakugou again. Before he leaves, Izuku comes up to you, places a hand on your lower back and gave you a genuine smile.
“Thanks for the amazing session,” he said. You gave him your best, fakest smile.
“Back at ya,” you reply. Your smile dropped the moment you turned around and you sighed in annoyance. You hated to think that you’d have to go home to finish yourself off but it looks like that’s exactly what you were going to have to do. Bakugou came up behind you and cleared his throat, causing you to jump in place.
“How was your first session?” he asked. You took a sip of your water to give it a bit of thought. Was this a fun experience? Oh, most definitely. Would you do it again? Probably. Did you cum? Hard no.
“It was good,” you lied. The experience was definitely new and refreshing but the sex was so mediocre that it was almost a little boring. But you couldn’t tell your trainer that. So you gave a sweet smile and picked up your bag. “I’ll see you at the next session!”
But the next session felt exactly the same as the first. You had a different partner this time. A big, scruffy dude with semi-long red hair that was pulled in a ponytail. He was just as built as Izuku, if not bigger. He had the cutest and sweetest personality. And just seeing him, you’d think this cute puppy would turn into a hungry wolf but you were wrong. As per usual.
Bakugou had made you kneel on this couch that he had provided. Kirishima was fucking you from behind but not hitting any of the right spots. His large hands were placed on your hips but they were glued there and he wasn’t touching you anywhere else.
Again, you faked your moans to mask the image of you not having a good time. Though, when you peeked behind you to get a look at your partner, he was in pure bliss. Eyes closed, mouth hung open, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, sweat trickling down his forehead. Damn, was it a sexy sight. At least he was having a fun time.
Every now and then, your mind would wander. It could be many things: you could think about what you were going to eat for dinner, or what your partner was like in bed with a lover, or if you forgot to turn the light off in your bathroom. Oh shit, what were you doing again? You opened one eye and Kirishima was focused solely on slamming his dick in your vagina. Sighing, you had to remind yourself that this was meant for exercise, not for pleasure. Although, it would be nice if you could feel nice too once in a while. Exercise was the prime reason you signed up but like… you thought it would be a win-win situation.
Your mind continued to wander for the rest of the session until you mind was set on a certain trainer you have the hots for. You could see his muscles through his tight fitted shirt, making him look even more buff than he already was. He looked so strong, you could only imagine what having sex with him was like.
You could imagine it now; face twisted in pleasure as he pounds into mercilessly, just like how you want it. You could feel that familiar butterfly feeling in the pit of your stomach just thinking about it. But then, you thought that he must be like all the other men; only chasing their own high instead of pleasuring their partner.
Session after session was exactly the same. You can pleasure that dick, but he can’t even find the clit. But honestly, you were okay with it because at least you could exercise while doing your favorite sport.
You were wiping yourself up after one session, drinking from a bottled water as your trainer, Bakugou, comes up behind you.
“How was the session?” Bakugou asked after your partner has just left the room. You took another sip of water before answering.
“Mhm, it was okay,” you tried your best to sound positive. You thought your conversation was going to end there, like it always has but something in Bakugou decided to investigate a little further.
“How do you really feel?” he questions you, stepping a little closer and observing your facial features for any lies. “I could tell that you weren’t enjoying it. Off day?” You put your water bottle away, thinking of how to respond to him. Did you really want to tell him how you were really feeling? You didn’t want to seem like a freak to him. Did you really want to tell him how you like to be choked, so much so that you feel like you can’t breath. Or that you want someone to just spank you until there’s bruises because you love the idea of being marked. Or that you want to feel stuffed to the brim but still beg for more?
“I just like it a little rough,” you explained. Bakugou nods his head and hums in understanding.
“I thought they were going pretty rough on you,” he thought. But you just groaned and rolled your eyes.
“I guess, but I want more!” you exclaim, letting out an exasperated sigh. “This is why I have such a hard time with my sex life because every guy is too busy chasing after their own high that they forget that I need to feel good too. Not every guy is into rough sex. I know that. But I just want someone to blow my back out for once! Like not holding back and just fuck me until I’m in tears… but one can only dream, right?” you chuckled at the end. You didn’t mean to go on a tangent but fuck it, why not? He’s your trainer anyway. He’s supposed to know everything about you if he wants to tend to your needs. Bakugou just looks at you in silence. You take that as a sign to continue.
“I mean, don’t get me wrong. This whole program is fun and I really love the idea but just once in a while, I want to have good sex, too,” you continued to open up to your trainer. You finally turned your head to get a look at his reaction to your rant and you saw those crimson getting closer and closer to you until you were right under him, looking up. Your heart skips a beat having him so close to you. You could smell his burnt vanilla caramel cologne, his scent filling all of your senses at once.
“Then would you like a private session?” he asks you in a whisper, his head tilted down at you. You were so mesmerized by him that you followed his every move.
“With who?” you asked.
“Me.” He responded in that sexy, raspy voice of his.
“Now.” Bakugou pushes you against the cold mirror as a form of intimidation. Bakugou knows that he shouldn’t be doing this. Taking advantage of your weakness, suggesting private sessions when he’s strictly not allowed to, especially not on company’s time. It was wrong. But he’s had his eyes on you since the moment you walked in the gym for the very first time. And when you said what you said earlier, it was practically fate that you became one of his students.
The cold mirror touching your back sent you into shock, but the warmness of his body touching your chest made up for it all. He tilts your chin up so you could look in his half closed eyes full of lust. And then you couldn’t take it anymore.
You grabbed him by the neck and pulled him in for a hungry kiss. Your lips smashed together, causing your teeth to crash but you didn’t care. And neither did Bakugou because he was just as hungry as you, kissing you with the same amount of passion.
He wraps his arm your waist, pulling you closer to him, if that was even possible at this point. With one swift handful of ass, he lifts you off your feet so that your legs were wrapped around his waist. The moment you became stable, Bakugou gives your ass a smack, making you jolt up.
“Mhm!” you made a surprised noise through the kiss but didn’t stop kissing him. God, you didn’t want to stop. When you came back down, you could feel his erection resting right on top of your clit. He carries you to one of the equipment stored in the room, a couch, while you grind on him, hopping to get more friction to stimulate your needs.
As soon as your back hit the couch, clothes were already being stripped off of you. There goes your shirt, then your sports bra. Finally, your pants. Last but not least, your lace panties that were already wet from your previous session are now even more soaked from his teasing. Wasting no time in discarding your panties, he pulls your waist I so that you’re laying flat on your back, your pussy right in his face I all of its glory.
“Fuck, you’re already so wet for me. I haven’t even done anything yet,” he says. You could feel his beath tickling your wet folds. He was so close yet so far. Just having his breath on you made your pussy clench over nothing. Bakugou puts his nose right on your clit, taking a good whiff of your after workout sex. God, it was intoxicating and he couldn’t wait to dig right in.
“Thank you for the food,” he says before completely devouring you. He took no time in exploring every fold, every inch of your pussy, eating you out like there was no tomorrow. He was rough around your entrance but soft and gentle around your clit. It was like light feather licks, barely touching you but sending you into sensory overload. When he got closer to your entrance, that’s when he started to get rough. Slurping and devouring your wetness, getting every last drop and leaving no leftovers.
Bakugou grabbed hold of your thighs, squeezing them and pulling your body even closer to his face so he could tongue fuck you. His tongue enters you, pushing its way through to get a better taste of your sweet cunt. At the same time, your mouth is hung open in pleasure, moans spilling out of your mouth and you couldn’t stop. Bakugou took this opportunity to stick three fingers in your mouth.
“Noisy bitch. Suck,” he commanded. And so you sucked on his fingers, like a little girl eating her lollipop. He only had three fingers in your mouth, but they were so thick that you couldn’t possibly put any more in. Yet you still covered his fingers in your thick saliva, making sure each finger was coated and wet enough so he could fuck you.
You looked up at him, purposefully making a sultry face, with your big, innocent eyes. You wanted to give him a small show, making sure that he was watching every move that you made. Your tongue found its way in between each finger, licking up and down, sucking each individual finger, and letting go with a loud ‘pop’. You got disappointed when Bakugou removed his hands from you mouth. But was pleasantly surprised when he stuck all three fingers in your throbbing cunt without warning. It’s not like you needed the prepping anyway when you were already soaking wet. Your back arched and chills ran down your spine. You didn’t know how this was possible, but the moment he entered his fingers, it was pure bliss. You already felt like you wanted to cum because he just managed to hit that magical spot in one go. You couldn’t even imagine what it would feel like when he fucks you with his fat cock.
“God, you’re so fucking tight. I can feel you clenching around me,” Bakugou watched as he slides his fingers in and out of your slick folds. He gives you a minute to adjust before picking up the pace. Every thrust of his hand, he keeps getting deeper and is always right the perfect damn spot. It was driving you mad. He hasn’t even fucked you yet and you were already a moaning mess. You couldn’t even form any words, you were such in a trance. It wasn’t before long until you had that familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach. The feeling gradually and rapidly escalated. Bakugou could feel it too: the way your walls clenched around his fingers a little too tight, he knew you were going to cum anytime soon.
“Bakugou~” you whined, holding onto his forearms for dear life. You needed to prepare yourself for this one.
“Gonna cum, princess?” Bakugou teased. You couldn’t answer him. More like you weren’t able to hear his question because you were so focused on this intense feeling that was going to explode any minute. Bakugou took his free hand and pushed your legs up so that they were pressed against your chest. He, then, leaned on them so weren’t able to move or squirm out of his grasp. And he went even faster, the sound of your juices was sinful.
“AH!” you screamed, letting your orgasm take over and wash over you. You thought he would stop once you had your first orgasm but he wasn’t stopping. He continued his fast pace. You wanted to make him stop, the overstimulation was getting too much for you. You tried moving your legs but Bakugou’s grip on you was nailed down. You weren’t going anywhere. You just had to take it but it still felt so good. The moment you felt like it was all too much to handle, Bakugou took his fingers out. And they were covered in a thick, white consistency. If he spread his fingers out, your cum would string along each finger. Bakugou didn’t hesitate to lick it all off with one swipe of his tongue.
“On all fours,” he demanded, standing up while pumping his cock for you. You didn’t have to be asked twice. Despite the numb feeling in between your legs, you enthusiastically got on your hands and knees, ready to be penetrated by your trainer. Bakugou gave your ass a small smack before lining his cock in front of your entrance. That small smack was enough for you to have hearts in your eyes. You let out a small mewl of delight and Bakugou smirked.
“Yeah? You like it when I smack your ass?” Bakugou asked.
“I love when you smack my ass. Please spank me again,” you begged. Bakugou took his hand and gave you cheek another blow, this time harder than the last. Bakugou made sure to look for any change in your expression, careful not to hurt you. But you wanted more. You wanted him to hit your harder.
“Spank me harder, sir,” you pleaded, moving lower so that your ass was hanging in the air. You wiggled your butt, wanting more from the strong blonde. He smirks even bigger, almost animalistic like.
“That’s a good girl,” his voice became raspy and wasted no time in giving you a nice, hard smack to your right cheek. You cried out in a pleasurable pain. You smiled into your moans, drool starting to come out from the sides of your mouth. The sound of his hand making contact to your bare cheek was so loud that it could be heard from outside the closed room. Bakugou spanked you until your cheek was red and raw from his large hands. This. This was what you wanted. This is what you’ve been wanting for so long and you were finally going to get it.
Oh sweetie, the main course hasn’t even started yet. How could you feel this good when he hasn’t even fucked you yet? You could feel the tip of his dick teasing your entrance. You wanted to lean into him yourself, not wanting to wait any longer, but Bakugou had a strong hold on your hips. He gave his cock a few more pumps before slowly sliding his cock inside your ready, wet pussy.
You both moaned in sync at the feeling: his fat cock throbbing inside you and your tight pussy clenching around his cock. Bakugou started thrusting at a good pace. But just like how his fingers felt, he was hitting that sweet spot of yours perfectly. Every thrust was making you see stars.
“Mhm~ Bakugou, faster!” you whined in between moans. Bakugou grabs a fistful of hair before pulling you up so that your back was arched.
“Needy, aren’t we? And what if I say no?” Bakugou asked in your ear. You just whimpered, reaching behind you to grasp his waist and force him to go faster as you try to back into him at the same time. Bakugou didn’t like this too much. He let go out your hair and went straight to your neck, cutting off your air momentarily.
“Did I say you could do that?” he questioned through gritted teeth. You quickly shook your head.
“No, sir,” you barely managed to say due to your lack of oxygen. He gave you another squeeze before a few smacks to the cheek.
“There we go. Now let’s try that again. What if I say no?” he asks again. You bit your lip trying to come up with an answer. But it was hard to think with a hand was at your throat.
“Please! God, I want you so bad. I want you to fuck me, please!” you practically screamed.
“Good girl,” he said and let go of your neck. You gasped for air, coughing in the process but Bakugou didn’t allow you to fully recover. He pounded into you with no mercy. You couldn’t stop your ahego expression from happening, your tongue hung out and your eyes crossed.
He stopped pounding into you to slowly slide his cock fully out of you before slamming into you again. It felt heavenly but a naughty thought came to your mind. You were probably going to get punished for it later, but you were feeling rebellious in the moment. When he slide his cock out, before he could enter you again, you got up and pushed him on the couch. Midair, Bakugou sensed what you were doing. So instead of being victorious and pining him down, he flipped you so that you were pined against the couch, your hands pined above your head.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he gets close to you. You giggle and look away playfully.
“Not playing by the rules,” you laughed. Bakugou couldn’t help but break a smile as well.
“Naughty, naughty. I’ll show you who’s the dominant one,” he said and smashed his cock back inside you, not giving you time to breath or adjust to him in this new position.
You could feel another wave coming and it was fast approaching. Bakugou was being even more vocal now, huffing and groaning into your neck. His hips rutted into you sloppier each second and more frantic. He was getting close too.
You whined loudly, not being able to hold onto anything as your orgasm hit you like a tsunami so you arched your back and fumbled with your legs. The clenching of your walls caused Bakugou to reach his limit. He pulled out, spraying his cum all over your stomach and chest. His hot cum felt sticky on your skin. Despite being covered in his specimen, Bakugou pulled you close to his sweaty body, your foreheads resting together while you both catch your breath.
You entered the gym with a smile and a skip to your walk. You got a little surprised when you saw that your trainer and new partner were inside the room before you. Puffing out a cheek in disappointment, you scold yourself for not leaving earlier. You were always early to get a good stretch in. But as soon as you saw your handsome trainer, a smile came back to your face.
You rushed to his side, jumping into his arms and giving him a kiss on the lips.
“Hi, baby!” you greeted him. He smiles back at you.
“Ready for your session?” he asks and you just give him a lovey dovey smile and a nod.
“Ah, this is one of my good friends. He’ll be your partner for today,” Bakugou sets you down to introduce you to yet another partner. The two toned hair guy gives you a shy wave.
“Todoroki. You can call me Shouto,” he introduces himself. Aw, he seems really sweet. Shy, but hopefully he’s not like that in bed. Todoroki leads to you the mat on the floor to get your session started. You glanced back at your trainer and give him a wink. He shakes his head at you but you didn’t miss that smile he was trying to hide. Because you know that he was going to make up for this session later tonight.
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INDULGE ME PLEASE!!!!!!! Ok but a dark academia vibe with College!EZ…. you share a writing intensive course w/ him (philosophy, creative writing, anthropology, classics, a novel based course or something) and he’s one of those always prepared types. Extra pens, extra highlighter. He’s an all around type too, definitely plays a sport, probably is apart of a club of some sort…. Only wears glasses to read but he’s so cute when he does wear them (he hates wearing them because it makes him look old like felipe lolll) ….. the both of you dont really interact till you disagree with something he says in the class you share and now you’re on his radar because he just has to pick your brain…… no one ever really disagrees with him…. He likes it?!?!?!
Anyways yeah…. This had been on my mind ALOT
those damned romantics [college!ez reyes x reader]
A/N: Well, fuck. I read this, was immediately struck, and could not let sleeping dogs lie. So... this is an entire fic now, and I'm not sorry? This is unedited, so sorry about whatever it actually is. Maybe I'll add the taglist later?
Pairing: College!Ezekiel Reyes x Reader
Word Count: 4.1k (I KNOW WHAT THE FUCK -- As soon as you sent this ask, I started typing and didn't stop) of enemies-to-lovers literary rivals, just like in the old books you both love to read.
Warnings: SMUT! 18+ ONLY. A good-old-fashioned library hatefuck, with fingering and some slight dom!EZ.
Summary: See the lovely @joannasteez ask, supra. I took some liberties. Some unedited enemies-to-lovers goodness.
You didn’t think that “Classics & Creative Writing” aka “Lit 403” would be an easy class, per se.
Had you been comfortable in your own hubris because you’d already read a good number of the novels on the required reading list for the semester? Sure. With a heavy tilt toward gothic fiction and crime, and a syllabus full of Shelley, Capote, and Connell, you felt comfortable that you would be able to timely complete most of your assignments.
The seminar half of the portion seemed simple enough -- complete the required reading by the time of class, and participate in a seminar without about two-dozen other likeminded literary nerds. You would pencil-pick the classics within an inch of their lives -- chewing over themes, motifs, usage of simile and metaphor.
The writing half of the course? Pick an “auteur” whose work you would attempt to emulate in order to come up with your own short story.
This all would have been simple enough for your literature-loving heart, if it wasn’t for the infuriatingly smug, self-assured, beautiful jockish boy who sat back-row-center, annoyingly, immediately in the seat behind yours.
He thought he was so cute. And so smart. And when you had stumbled over your explanation of isolation and ambition in “Frankenstein,” Ezekiel “The Golden Boy” Reyes had only been too quick to swoop in and snake your point from your very mouth-- correcting your point about feminist writing in the Romantic era, receiving all the credit from the professor while you sat, mouth agape, at the loss of your answer.
If that boy thought he could slide into your idea the way he slid into home plate, securing another win for himself (both on the field and off, it seemed), he had another thing coming. (You weren’t being a dick -- not that you had endeavoured to keep tabs on him or anything, it was just common knowledge that he was here on a baseball scholarship. Taking the whole student-athlete thing a little too seriously, if anyone had asked you.)
“Ambition, coupled with a false sense of pride -- of being a godlike creator -- though of course, not actually being a god-- not unlike the prevalent concept of toxic masculinity in the 21st century, is Victor’s downfall. It feels only right that Mary Shelley -- a woman -- would be the one to shine the light on this flaw and how men fail as nurturers,” EZ had shrugged, as though the point was so simple.
You whipped your head around after the professor had smiled at him and moved on, only to find Ezekiel already staring at you from behind his (infuriatingly hot) reading specs. Were they designer frames? You furrowed your brows in what you hoped was an intimidating glare.
EZ just smiled his annoyingly bright “el nino de oro” smile at you, and winked. Winked. It might have been hot. Might have made you melt in your seat just a bit, if he wasn’t such an asshole.
Oh, it was on, motherfucker.
Ezekiel often saw you in the library, head bent down, poring over your worn copy of whatever novel you were reading in class that week. Worn like you had brought it from home -- not purchased it from the student store for class.
So you were a reader, then. He’d thought it was cute.
You would highlight and tab pages before switching gears to make notes, both in the margins of the text, and in your tabbed notebook you always lugged with you to class.
EZ had to respect the hustle -- not many people still took handwritten notes for class. Come to think of it, the only time he had ever seen you behind a computer screen was when you brought your laptop to group for the short-story portion of the class, scrolling through the running word doc that was your obnoxiously-detailed outline. Nah. He totally wasn’t looking over your shoulder. Not in seminar, and not in group.
You were just a lit-snob who wasn’t going to make it any other major. He needn’t concern himself with you.
So how exactly was it that he found himself sliding into the empty seat across from you at your table in the corner of the library?
He liked studying on the second floor -- not as busy and chatty (people shouldn’t come to the library to socialize under the guise of studying) as the first floor; not as intensely quiet as the third floor, where people would glare at you for turning your page too loudly.
No, the second floor was a good mix of hushed chatter and respectable pockets of studious quiet.
You hadn’t looked up from your copy of “The Picture of Dorian Grey” as he’d approached (he had heard you’d intended to write a similarly-postmodern short story in the flowery vein of Oscar Wilde and Bronte. Not that you’d shared that with him -- he was just … observant, that’s all). You hadn’t even flinched when he slumped down his bag onto the empty chair next to the seat he was now pulling out.
“I told you, Anna,” you had breathed, voice in a pleasant register just above a whisper, “I don’t care if the barista is cute, I’m not going with you for more coffee. I need to focus, and I can only have so many Red-Eyes in one week…” your voice trailed as you looked up to meet the glinting, mossy-amber eyes of none other than Ezekiel-motherfucking-Reyes.
He was most decidedly not Anna. And he was also regarding you with an infuriatingly easy (hah) stare, smiling in a facile way, right into your quickly-souring face.
“Just how many Red-Eyes do you drink in one week?” Ezekiel responded in a low, velvety rumble, brow quirked and arms flexing beneath his practice jersey as he made himself comfortable in the seat across from yours, already unpacking his bag, though his eyes never left yours.
“Enough to keep me awake during your self-important soliloquies during class,” you snipped, primly. “And who told you you could sit here?” You nodded toward the previously-empty seat he was now all-too-keenly making himself comfortable in. “My friend is sitting here.”
There. If you kept your tone unfriendly, just to the right of a little bitchy, he’d know he was unwelcome.
EZ chuckled at that, seemingly unfazed by your little dig at his class participation.
“An empty seat and your ‘friend’ is sitting here? Yeah, that tracks,” he chuckled at his clever little barb that you didn’t actually have any friends, before taking in the downright murderous glare you were leveling him with and continuing, “Nah, I’ve seen Anna chatting up Marco every time I go to get coffee. The two of them aren’t going anywhere,” he shrugged, now unpacking his extra pens, highlighters and little moleskine notebook. A writer’s notebook. Pretentious.
Strike one, you thought. Terminology Ezekiel would be all-too familiar with. You’d tried to annoy him into leaving, and that was a big swing-and-miss. If at first you don’t succeed? Try, try again.
You sniffed lightly, steely eyes never leaving Ezekiel’s stupidly-muscular form. How did he always look so warm? The second floor of the library really was the prime study spot on campus, but friendly to the perpetually-cold it was not.
“Did you just come from practice, or something?” You lilted, innocuous.
EZ looked at you, eyes lightened with a note of surprise. A sincere question about his day? Was hell freezing over?
He chuffed a little chuckle, scrubbing his hand along the back of his neck as he responded, “Uh, yeah, actually…”
“Ah,” you’d nodded and cut in before he could finish. “So that’s what that smell is.”
It would have been comical how quickly Ezekiel’s face had dropped into a frown, if it didn’t make your gut drop just the slightest bit. Too mean?
To his credit, Ezekiel seemed to recover like your barb was nothing.
“Not surprised you can’t differentiate,” he shrugged, now starting to thumb through his own copy of Oscar Wilde. “Your head being as far up your own ass as it is.”
Was Ezekiel really so unbothered by your shitty little barbs? Did it really just roll off of his back like it was nothing?
He glanced up from beneath his lashes (annoyingly long, of course -- was anything about this boy not annoying?) at you. He smirked at your scrunched brows and the firm set of your jaw.
Fuck, you were hot when you were mad.
To add insult to injury, he kept talking. No use in hiding the ball, right?
“You know,” he breezed, as though he hadn’t just insulted you, “You’re pretty cute when you’re pissed at me.” He winked.
The audacity of this boy.
You sat, mouth agape, as Ezekiel carried on like he hadn’t just said that to you, highlighting a line in the book and making a little note in his moleskine. You tugged the sleeves of your cropped hoodie down over your fingers, twisting the cuffs between your fingertips in your anxious anger at the stupidly hot boy in front of you.
Before you realized what you were doing, you capped your little blue pen and flung it straight into his perfectly-perfect face. The pen gently plinked off of Ezekiel’s curved nose and his designer frames before landing with a gentle thunk onto the paper of his notebook.
Had you really just -- ??
To your credit, even you looked surprised at the little childish move your frustrations had wrought.
Oh shit. You stared into EZ’s golden eyes for any hint of anger, retaliation, or just what he’d do next, surprised when ...
EZ’s momentary expression of shock quickly melted into a warm little quirk of his lips, not even flinching as he reached into his bag. He never broke eye contact with you as he pulled out a spare pen, clapping it down onto the table and sliding it over to your side, like it was a surreptitiously good card that would guarantee you the winning hand in a high-stakes poker game.
He smirked at you again before going back to his notes.
You broke eye contact to look down at the pen he had offered, a warm, tingling sense of welcome surprise at the realization that the pens he carried were in the same blue ink you favored,
Well, fuck. That had no business being as hot as it was.
You opened your mouth, a squeaking little gasp escaping your lips as you took in Ezekiel’s fastidiously moving hand, long fingers gripped around his own pen as he made neat little notes in the margin of his book, not unlike the way you did.
“Ezekiel,” you breathed, the thoaty register of your voice enough to break Ezekiel’s concentration. He glanced at you from beneath his lashes once more.
“I -- I’m sorry,” you began… but Ezekiel held up a large hand, waving away your apology.
“If this is the part where you give some kind of Elizabeth Bennett-esque speech about how our respective pride makes us similar, it’s really not necessary. I know what kind of girl you are,” Ezekiel murmured, sliding his hand across the table to grip your fingers now, his long legs beneath the table had somehow come to rest on either side of where yours were in your seat.
“Oh?” You queried gently, brow now raised at Ezekiel’s rejoinder, “And what kind of girl am I?”
“The kind who makes fiction her identity. You bring your own books to class. You’re protective over words that aren’t even yours. You’re smart, sure, if not a little defensive,” EZ was smirking again, as though his read of you wasn’t mildly insulting. “Other people can like books, too, you know?” The smirk softened into a warm little smolder.
The apples of your cheeks felt tingly and warm -- whether it was from embarrassment over EZ’s facile read of your character and your minor flaws or heat from just how turned on this boy was incomprehensibly making you feel, you didn’t know. What you did know was that the warmth was spreading down the column of your throat and settled into a rushing bloom across your collarbones and chest.
“As opposed to you?” You could feel Ezekiel’s legs caging your own from the boundaries of your chair, and had decided in a split second of devilish determination to have a little fun. If he could make fun of you, you could return the favor, right? You left your lips parted as you trailed the toe of your sneaker from Ezekiel’s ankle, slowly dragging it up his calf as you continued. “A self-important, proud little boy only so eager to show he’s more than a pretty face? Trying to be Heathcliff doesn’t make you swoon-worthy. But it does make you a bit of a dick.”
With that, you pushed back from your table, tossing your pens (and the one Ezekiel had given you) into your back, tabbing the page of “Dorian Grey” you’d just highlighted before snapping it shut. You smugly noted the look of surprise-turned-rage that crossed Ezekiel’s godlike features, his full lips twisting into something dour.
You leaned over the table once more, invading Ezekiel’s space as you let your lips linger closely to his…
“Ya know? You’re pretty hot when you’re mad.”
You turned on your heel, content to sway your way out of the library in smug little victory, when Ezekiel called softly behind you,
“You’ll always be fond of me, babe,” he paraphrased, making your steps falter as he finished, “I represent to you all of the sins you’ve never had the courage to commit.”
The line of “Dorian Grey” you’d just finished highlighting for your paper, right before he showed up.
This boy was impossible. Strike three? You weren’t sure anymore who won.
It was Oscar Wilde seminar day, and Ezekiel was floundering in his explanation of art imitating life, and the surface of something versus its true nature. He was mostly there, you’d give him credit. But he was missing something important --
“I think what Ezekiel is trying to say,” you piped up from the seat in front of him, “is that the postmodern lens Oscar Wilde writes in distinguishes it from other Romantic-era literature in that it relies less on the influence of nature and naturalism, and focuses more on industrial society and its inherent flaws.” You paused before continuing, “It’s like that one quote from the book, ‘Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without being charming.’ The other Romantics never would have put it like that.”
At your professor’s smiling nod, you turned back in your seat to regard Ezekiel. Only to find, once more, that he was already staring at you, a grey and thunderous storm brewing behind his usually-kind coffee eyes.
You shrug, awarding him a little smirk of your own, a flutter of your lashes, before turning around in your seat and resuming your handwritten note-taking, feeling more than a little “Elizabeth Bennett” proud.
It wasn’t until later, when you were in the library, that you saw Ezekiel again. You could feel him as he stalked over to you, standing over where you sat, all broad, heaving shoulders.
“Yes?” You placed your pen down in your notebook and sat back in your seat, giving Ezekiel your full attention.
Wordlessly, Ezekiel struck, leaning forward with a swiftness that defied his size and seizing your wrist, yanking you from your seat before you knew what was happening.
You made to gasp, to protest, but Ezekiel turned on you, your arm still locked in his grip, as he brought his other hand up, pressing a finger first to his full lips, shushing you harshly.
“Don’t you know you’re not supposed to fuckin’ talk in the library?” --
Before taking said finger and trailing it over your mouth, catching it on your fuller lower lip and dragging it downward, dropping his hand by his side once more. With that, Ezekiel turned on his heel, tugging you behind him as he made his way to the far recesses of the library.
He ushered you into a row in the far stacks, wordlessly beckoning you down an aisle you had never even seen before.
“Ezekiel, wha --?”
You couldn’t even finish your question before he pounced, dropping your wrist from his grip in favor of cupping your jaw in both hands, pressing his warm lips harshly to yours, breaking the sudden kiss to hiss between his teeth,
“Shut,” he kissed you again, “the fuck up.”
Using his height and the two guiding hands on you to press you into the shelf behind you, he pressed his weight insistently into you, bending his knees and lowering himself slightly from his towering height to place himself at the right spot to knock your knees apart with his own and roll his hips into yours ever-so-slightly.
Ezekiel tore his lips from yours, where his tongue had been exploring the inside of your mouth, content to trail his lips along your jaw and down your neck, allowing his hand to trail down your side and hook beneath your thigh, hoisting it around his tapered waist.
He breathed hotly into your ear, ragged and panting as he rolled his hips into yours again. Your brain was too sluggish, too lust-drunk to comprehend the noises he was making until well after he’d already made them. You could only imagine what you sounded like, trying to muffle your little gasping moans as Ezekiel marked your neck.
“You were so fucking hot today,” EZ moaned in your ear, all red-clay heat, fizzing champagne gone warm in the moment. “How you fuckin’ talk like that.”
He trailed the hand not already gripping your thigh across your breast and over the soft cotton of your shirt, making his way down to where the hem of it was tucked into your flouncy, springtime skirt. He tugged until the hem came free, dragging the hot pads of his fingertips up, under your shirt and over the soft lace of your bralette, feeling the hardness of your nipple beneath, cupping your breast and rolling a finger over your sensitive bud as he simultaneously rolled his jean-clad hips into your core, grinding between your legs.
“You had your moment,” EZ pulled back from his neck in time to fix his melted-chocolate gaze onto your wanton one. “Now are you gonna be good for me, baby?”
If your bones could melt, you figured they’d long be a puddle where you once stood, EZ’s hands had abandoned the space beneath your shirt in favor of trailing their way up your skirt, brushing your underwear to the side in a moment way-too-smooth to be unpracticed (you wouldn’t think about that now) and swiping through the warm, honey slickness of your core.
You gasped, open-mouthed and in awe of just how starry-eyed Ezekiel was making you feel, like a balmy tropical night spent lounging on white-sand beaches. In between the plucking of his fingers, and just how tingly that was rendering you, you wondered if EZ was one for cliched summer romance.
As quickly as it had started, Ezekiel stopped.
You had half a mind to protest, but not before EZ could shush you with the domineering press of his incendiary lips to yours.
“I asked you a question,” he rasped, the hand on your throat firming ever-so-slightly. “You gonna quit with that smart fuckin’ mouth and be good for me?” His warm grip around your neck shook slightly, gently knocking your head into the shelf behind you, a gentle whumph as it met the books that took up permanent, long-abandoned residence there.
You sighed, pleased as Ezekiel’s featherlight touch resumed at your core, a thick finger teasing your entrance, waiting for your response before giving you what you so desperately wanted.
“Y-yes, Ezekiel,” you breathed into his mouth, “Of course. Y-you’re being so good to me.” Ezekiel’s smirk was back, full-lipped and mildly sinister. He let out a little snarl as he slid his thick fingers into you.
EZ could have been a music major, you’d thought vaguely, with how well he was playing your body. The borderline rough treatment his fingers were rendering inside you was enough to make you see stars, but you wanted more.
You were reticent to say it, but you loved seeing this side of EZ. You had seen him soft, eyes glittering wanly in a quiet moment surrounded by a bustling party. You had seen him arrogant, a confident smirk pillowing his lips as he swaggered across campus. Of course, you had seen him smug, chuckling in self-amusement at a particularly clever turn of phrase. How Stanford of him.
And not that you'd indulge particularly nosy ears, especially Ezekiel’s own-- but this was your favorite Ezekiel -- the heady, solid man towering over you with a firm, commanding presence. His large, warm palm curved around your thigh, thick fingers beckoning you closer to just where he wants you. To just where you want you
You could endeavor to tease him a little, tug your leg out of his grip, giggling and twisting and begging for the chase. But you wouldn't dare defy him; not when he is leaning over you with dangerous eyes like melting pools of mossy hazel, just daring you to try something, to give him an excuse to grip and tug with his fingers that had been carding through your hair. Not when he bares his teeth at you in a predator's grin.
His full lips then teasingly brush over yours, just a dusting of powdered sugar, a slip of sweetness you craved to swallow whole. You could feel your skin sweltering beneath EZ's imposing form. Yes, this is your favorite Ezekiel. Something you'd never thought you'd have.
You had a feeling he knew it, too. What with the self-assured way he had about himself.
Ezekiel’s fingers were quickly working you toward your peak, summoning you to an edge you’d never in a million years thought you’d experience with him. You pressed your fingers to his firm chest, pressing him away from you just firmly enough for him to get the message.
He ripped his lips from you, his fingers ceased, and he looked at you questioningly.
“I - I want you, EZ,” you murmured, fluttering your lashes at him, chest heaving.
You trailed your fingers nimbly from his chest to his belt buckle, deftly undoing his jeans, choosing delicately not to comment on the sizeable, hot, hard length you now had cradled in your palm. You gave EZ a few gentle, teasing strokes with the feather touch of your hand, causing him to groan and knock his forehead into yours, eyes shut and lips parted.
You relished your moment of victory as you guided EZ to your center, allowing him to firmly, fully press-and-thrust inside of you. EZ quickly gained his bearings, gripping your hips and rolling his own, the teasing drag his thrusts were taking on was equal parts infuriating and heavenly.
You rocked onto your tip-toes as best you could, given EZ’s body pressing yours into the shelf, his pistoning hips knocking you rhythmically back into the shelf. With your newfound tidbit of height, you pressed your face, your lips, into EZ’s clothed shoulder, gently biting to muffle the whining moans you didn’t trust yourself to contain. Not confident every single person in this library didn’t know just what the fuck you and Ezekiel were doing, how fucking good he was making you feel.
EZ grunted in surprise at the contact of your little bite, the action spurring him to thrust into you impossibly harder as the two of you chased your peak.
Was he really this fucking good at everything? You weren’t sure if your eyes were rolling in pleasure or annoyance as you felt yourself tightening around him, the warm, sticky caramel waves of pleasure Ezekiel was ripping from your body now too much for you as you surrendered -- coming with a violent jerk of your hips, tightening around Ezekiel’s length and spurring his own orgasm.
The two of you blinked at one another as you came down. You tapped Ezekiel’s arm that was holding the high part of your thigh in place. He trailed his fingers reverently down your thigh and to your knee, helping you gently re-place your feet to the floor and stand on shaky legs. You gripped his biceps in firm, pressing hands as you rocked gently onto your toes and trailed your mouth over Ezekiel’s in a gentle slip of a kiss.
You and EZ helped one another re-orient your clothes, giggling softly to one another as you prepared yourselves to re-emerge into the main part of the library.
Ezekiel caught your wrist before you exited the aisle, turning you back toward him and pressing a kiss to the wrist he held, regarding you with his glimmering ochre eyes.
“Oscar Wilde was right,” he breathed through his stupidly beautiful grin. “The only way to get rid of temptation?”
“To yield to it,” you finished, matching his infuriating grin with one of your own.
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