His authoritative tone, although enticing, sobered you up a bit, but you were already feeling a bit off after the phone call with your brother. You knew he'd had a few to drink, and you knew how he could get, but, this time... something just really stung about how he'd spoken to you. Maybe you'd just been away from home for longer this time, maybe you'd learned with the help of your therapist to better detach yourself from your family while away from them, mentally as well as physically. And now, the reality of who he was becoming felt like a slap across the face.
You followed Harry absentmindedly until you were looking around only to realize you were in a bedroom. You didn't even have time to process it before he pushed the door ajar behind you and spoke in a softer, hushed tone. You told yourself it was as to not wake up Emily.
"Are you all right?"
He'd asked you this how many times tonight? You were beginning to feel defensive over it, you usually never had anyone check in on you like that "Yeah" you crossed your arms over your chest "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... tired. Listen. About what my brother said... I'm sorry, he might've been right about, well... Maybe you were just being polite, and I-"
"Hey" he stepped closer, his brows furrowing "I'm really not the kind to invite strangers over for Thanksgiving dinner unless I want them there. Then you went on and on about imposing and I reassured you, so why are you second guessing it now just because your brother wanted to be unnecessarily mean to you?"
You opened your mouth to say something but no words came out. The silence in the room was deafening. Which reminded you "I know you said you weren't going to bunk us, but if this is what your guest room looks like I'm kinda mad I won't be sharing Emily's, I can only imagine how hers must be like. Did you decorate all by yourself? Those talented fingers at it again?" you were rambling out of nervousness, you knew.
Harry's brows only furrowed deeper but his grin grew wider at the same time "You're just something else, aren't you?" he shook his head amusedly "This is the master bedroom, I'll be taking the living room sofa. No fancy guest rooms I'm afraid. And yeah. The very same" he raised his fingers and wiggled them playfully, his rings catching the light coming from the only lamp he'd switched on when you'd entered the room.
You both chuckled hushedly but then you quickly retorted "Oh, no, no. See? This is the definition of imposing. There's no way I can take your room, Harry, come on. You can't be comfortable with a strange woman sleeping in your bed. I mean. Not that you don't bring women here. That is- Crap!" you stammered and could just die of embarrassment watching his amused expression. You sighed, covering your face with your palms "It's the bourbon"
"Nope, still not the bourbon" he said, and you could hear the amusement in his voice. He then gently pulled your hands away from your face and his hands lingered a second longer than necessary on yours before he retreated "You're still sober. I told you I wouldn't let you get hammered" he airquoted the phrasing you'd chosen earlier that evening. "But you are tired. So it's not up for debate. I'm taking the sofa. Unless you're not comfortable sleeping in my bed, that is. Which I'm now realizing I should've asked you about beforehand, or at least had Emily switch rooms with you."
"Something tells me you're just gonna do something wild like... change the sheets or something, if I said I wasn't comfortable sleeping in your bed, but you still wouldn't let me take the sofa" you squinted your eyes at him and you thought to yourself he was definitely wrong about the bourbon because you really didn't know where you got the courage to unleash this playful banter, especially with him. He was definitely intimidating, standing there in the semi darkness, in his own bedroom looking the way he did. Maybe it was some kind of defense mechanism, you were using humor to try and cut through the sexual tension that you were fairly sure was just palpable at your end, regardless of what he'd said earlier that evening that had you thinking that it maybe wasn't one sided after all.
His eyes widened at that "I definitely should change the sheets, actually" and he turned his head quickly, his body slowly turning with it but you caught his forearm and chuckled a bit breathlessly at the contact
"Hey, I was only joking, don't get any ideas. I'm perfectly fine with the sleeping arrangements.... it's just that it doesn't feel right kicking you out of your own bed."
Harry looked at you, really looked at you just then, and you could swear that somehow he'd managed to get you all naked right in front of him at that very moment. You felt utterly exposed, he looked at you the way a lion corners his prey in its den. Slowly the implication of what you'd said dawned upon you as well, and you gulped. You hadn't intended it as such, but it did sound like you were asking him to stay and share the bed with you. Part of you wanted to excuse yourself and clear the air, but the other part of you, the primal one, was absolutely against you doing so. You realized you were still holding his forearm and you glanced at where you were touching him, and then quickly stole a glance at him only to see that he'd dropped his gaze to where you held his forearm also. You could almost see the gears turn in his head and then suddenly something must've snapped, because he pulled away almost as if electrocuted.
He tried to shrug it off, clearing his throat and changing the subject to how you could find a change of clothes in the upper drawer to his dresser, excusing himself for not having thought of bringing you something of Emily's, but you assured him it was fine, and all that was exchanged so rapidly and awkwardly that you could've sworn he didn't know how to get out of there quicker.
When he wished you goodnight and pulled the door shut behind him, you plopped on the edge of the bed and just stared at the door dumbfoundedly.
What the hell had just happened?
You felt like an imbecile. This man was kind enough to invite you in for dinner, he offered to drive you home, he then offered up his own bed just so that you didn't have to sleep on that sofa that you could just tell was not as comfy as it was stylish, and you somehow, somehow managed to turn this all into a perverted little game inside your head. He was 42. 42, Y/N!!! What did you think? You scoffed listening to your own train of thought, but you knew you were right.
As you walked into the ensuite to take a shower, you once again forgot to run through his medicine cabinet or snoop around his room a bit to get the feel of it, too lost in your own thoughts about this crazy evening. You sat there under the water berating yourself for having read too much into it. The way he'd pulled his arm away, you'll never ever gonna forget it. You'd never experienced rejection like that, and it was all your fault for it.
You realized as you came out of the shower that you hadn't looked for a change of clothes, or even a towel to dry off, there was only one bath towel in the ensuite that was definitely his. You'd washed your panties in the shower and hung them to dry, because, surprise surprise, you'd gotten them soaked, idiot that you were for letting your mind wander off like that in his company. So now you were just going to strut naked around his bedroom looking for stuff and it felt so wrong, yet so good, you were conflicted as to whether you should be enjoying it or not.
But the minute you slipped on one of his t-shirts that he obviously used to sleep in, as it was deliciously soft and worn out, you regretted nothing. You knew it was clean, but somehow, it still smelled like him, and you were feeling yourself start to get wet again from this alone. You decide to skip the pants, since you'd only probably end up getting them soaked as well, this obviously wasn't just going to go away and you regretted not having thought of taking care of it in the shower.
You glanced back to his bed. Do you dare?
You dare.
You knew this was downright filthy of you to be getting so worked up over, but you were totally going to touch yourself in Harry's bed, under his covers, no shame whatsoever over it.
You tiptoed your way to the bed giddily and threw yourself under the covers. You couldn't help but groan at the feeling. Man, this was some bed. Not too soft, not too hard. Just right. Not at all squeaky, you tested it out by thrashing yourself around a bit. So, it was either just not being used all that much? Or... the very opposite. Maybe it was just a really good bed that could take all the hot, steamy sex you just knew this man had to be having in it with "strange women". Ugh. Ok, not going there. You were not relieving that part of the evening. Instead, you pressed rewind a bit, going back to the two of you sitting out the back porch sharing a cigar and that damned brandy of his, when your eyes had accustomed to the dark and you could see him, and you just soaked in his appearance under the moonlight.
Harry was all man, and he knew it. His presence was undeniable. You flipped onto your stomach thinking about his side profile and how he looked like a work of art. You wondered if he liked having his hair pulled, those curls were just asking for it. And those rings he wore, you couldn't help but wonder how the cool metal would feel against your hot skin. You'd seen tattoos poking from underneath his sleeves and that cross on his left hand, and there was definitely nothing holy about what went through your mind looking at it. There was nothing about him you'd have changed. And no, not even his age, that was something that was definitely one of the best things about him, actually. Even though it threw him way out of your league and, effectively ruined all your chances at something with him, it still was fueling a kink of yours that you'd always had, your attraction to older men and the way you craved for one to absolutely dominate you in bed. You let your hand sleep between his sheets and down your body, and you were a bit concerned about potentially staining them in your arousal, you were dripping wet by now, but fuck if it mattered right that second.
You had no idea how Harry was as a lover, hell, you'd never find out, but that didn't stop you from fantasizing about it. You buried your face into his pillow, inhaled his scent and you tricked your brain into thinking he was right there.
You imagined that he was the one pleasuring you, pinning you down against the mattress beneath his heavy body, his hand snaking underneath you, touching and fondling till he'd reach your heat. You imagined him groan right in your ear as he'd finally feel how wet you were and maybe he'd ask "Fuck, baby, is this all for me, hm?" and you'd whimper helplessly as he'd begin to circle your clit slowly, teasing you until you'd start to squirm under his hold. He'd tsk you "Be a good girl for me and let daddy take care of you. I decide the pace. You just sit there and take it. Are you gonna be a good girl and let daddy tease your pretty pussy til you can't take it anymore, hm?"
And fuck if that God damn British accent didn't absolutely do you in "Yes, yes daddy, use me how you want. I'll do whatever you tell me to"
You'd be able to hear the smirk in his voice as he'd praise you "That's my good girl, always so eager to please daddy" and slip a finger into you just to reward you "That feel good, baby? Or do you need more?"
You'd try your best not to squirm "So good, but I want you. Please, please"
"Oh, when you ask so nicely" but he'd chuckle when you'd gasp at him thrusting another one of his talented fingers inside of you, not quite what you'd been hoping for, but still effective
"Fuck!"
He'd pump them in and out of you slowly, mercilessly, while he'd gather all your hair to the side with his free hand, yanking it to tilt your head back slightly off the pillow so he could have better access to the crook of your neck, sucking and nipping your tender flesh there "Look at you, baby, so fucking perfect. Touch your clit for daddy, love, yeah? Wanna feel you flutter around my fingers."
You'd immediately obey him and roll your eyes back as he'd now hit your sweet spot decidedly. He'd know just how to work your body, his heavy breathing on your temple sending shivers up your spine and you'd whine and pant trying to hold still while he'd play you like a perfectly tuned instrument.
"Want daddy's cock, baby?" he'd ask sweetly, an edge to his voice
You nodded frantically "Yes, God yes!"
But his voice would drop low and guttural as he'd press his lips against your earlobe, so that his every word would vibrate against your skin "Then be a good girl and come for me, baby. Then I'll slip right in and fuck you till you pass out on me. Hm? How's that sound? Come for me, Y/N. Lemme hear you!"
"Fuck!" you panted heavily as you came violently against your own hand, but you sobered up much more rapidly than you'd have liked to, because you were almost certain you'd, in fact, screamed that last part.
You pushed yourself hastily into a seating position and pricked up your ears. You had trouble hearing anything over the sound of your own heavy panting, but finally you managed to regulate your breath and as far as you could tell, the coast was clear.
You sighed in relief, you'd probably not even said it out loud, but under the haze of your own impending orgasm it'd felt real. Fuck, he'd felt real. You were suddenly absolutely spent, you'd been tired ever since you'd arrived there, but now you felt like you could sleep through a hurricane. You sighed contentedly, snuggling in his blanket- at least you got some new "material" out of this! He fit the bill perfectly, the perfect fantasy. You trailed off into dreamland with his scent enveloping you like an embrace and you decided you were not even going to beat yourself up about how you'd managed to make it awkward right at the end.
*
You woke up to the smell of strong coffee and you kinda panicked for a second, forgetting for a moment where you were. You reached for your phone but great, the battery was dead. God only knows how much you'd slept in, by the looks of it, it clearly wasn't early morning by any means. So you got up, did that weird thing where you brushed your teeth using your pointer finger and when you reached for your panties- just fucking great, they weren't thoroughly dry yet. You decide to get dressed and then put them in your backpocket but just as you were buttoning up your jeans you hear a gentle rasp against the door to the bedroom.
"Yeah?" you called out
"Oh, you're up!" a cheery Emily could be heard from the other side "Want some leftovers for breakfast, or just some coffee?"
You quickly opened the door and smiled at her, she looked like a ray of sunshine if you were being honest, and you normally hate morning people "I was promised leftovers if I stayed the night!" you pouted and she giggled in return
"Ok, dad is just heating everything up"
"I'll be right there" you made the bed, inspecting first for any traces of evidence to your debauchery from the previous night, and then took off Harry's shirt, folding it neatly at the edge of the bed after finishing getting your upper body dressed. You sighed. It truly was a great bed. Lucky bastard.
"Morning!"
Harry looked up at you from behind the kitchen island and your heart nearly sank to your knees. Fuck, how did he become ten times hotter over night? You could've sworn he was just good looking the previous night, but now your mouth was watering at the sight of his disheveled hair, a stray curl clouding his line of vision, and you could also definitely see his scruff from all the way there. He was wearing what he'd probably slept in, a crinkly Pink Floyd t-shirt, tattoos on full display, and sweats that hung low on his hips.
"G'morning. Slept well?"
You nodded, avoiding looking at him again. His voice was raspier with sleep and as he moved around, your eyes stuck to the floor, you could see he was barefoot. The rational part of your brain acknowledged the fact that this was all normal, mundane stuff but your heart rate had definitely picked up considerably just taking it all in.
"Yeah, actually. Great bed! I'd never get anything done if I had a bed like that"
Emily snorted, excusing herself when she actually projectiled crumbs of whatever she'd been chewing and your eyes widened "Oh, get your mind out of the gutter!" you smiled bashfully and saw Harry shake his head amusedly behind her, as he poured the coffee into 3 separate cups "I just meant I'd... take naps in it and, dunno, stay in bed all day and watch Netflix"
"And chill?" Harry couldn't help but finish the iconic sentence and Emily laughed in earnest now, turning around in her chair to high five her dad. "Yeah, I got it right? She taught me what that meant" he pointed at his daughter to you and you just shook your head, feeling your face heat up. If only he knew what you'd been up to mere hours ago in that damned bed of his. You bet that'd shut him up.
Harry placed the mugs on the table "Dig in. I'll go grab a quick shower"
"Wait, aren't you gonna have a bite?"
"You know I'm not a breakfast person, sweetums" he kissed the top of Emily's head and as he made his way around the kitchen table and out into the hallway you froze in your seat.
NO.
Nooooo, no, no.
"Y/N?"
"Hm?" you barely registered her talking. Your mind was racing. You knew you should do something, anything to prevent him from going into the ensuite and finding your panties that were still hanging over the glass separator. But what?!
"You look pale all of a sudden, is everything all right?"
"Mhm" you nodded frantically, reaching for one of the cups and shakily taking it to your mouth. You winced, it was still hot "Low blood sugar" you explained, lamely.
Shit, shit, shit! How were you ever going to look him in the eye again?
Unless you didn't have to.
Now was your chance. You placed the mug back on the table and awkwardly stood up "Actually, I remembered I have to be somewhere..." you looked around frantically for a clock, who the fuck doesn't own a God damn clock!? You glanced over at the microwave and even that didn't display the time. Fuck it "...Right about now. I gotta run! So, so, sorry! Please tell your father it was nice to meet him and thanks for having me over for dinner, and I'm sorry, but I just really gotta run!"
"Oh, okay, don't worry about it! Are you sure you should be driving though, you still don't look too good!"
"No, yeah, I'm fine. I'll see myself out! See you!"
You never drove off without allowing the engine to warm up a bit first but this was a fucking emergency. You backed out of that driveway pretty sure you'd left behind drift marks, like you were in GTA Vice City and the police were chasing you and it was a 6 wanted star situation, but this time, you had no cheat code and you sure as hell couldn't drive over pedestrians or take a detour through someone's backyard to get home sooner.
As you sped home, you kept making up scenarios in your head. Harry entered the ensuite, saw your panties just hanging there, and then what? Grimaced picking them up using the end of his toilet clogger and tossed them in the trash bin? Shook his head in disdain thinking you were well and truly desperate? Had a hearty laugh over how pathetic you were? Maybe even told his daughter all about how you came on to him and now even left your panties there for him to find? Nah, that last one was not probable, he'd spare her the embarrassment. You rested your head on the steering wheel at a red light, what the fuck was wrong with you? How could you forget to grab them on your way out of there? Stupid, stupid.
But oh well. Doesn't matter. Not like you'd be seeing him again.
Or at least that's what you thought.
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A\N: did i mention this was a slow burn? surely i must've. mehehe. ok, any guesses on what Harry's reaction was to the panties? 👀
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