#isn’t that green thing in harrys bun

[loversipod]

Shy Lover

Summary: Harry is the shy boy in school and y/n boyfriend. She gets to know him over the months and see him growing comfortable around her. So comfortable that he’s ready to make love to her for the first time.

Pairing: shy boyfriend!harry x fem!reader

Wordcount: 3,3k

Trigger warnings: soft dom, use of pet names, light teasing, begging, choking, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise, mention of handjob, hair pulling, short mention of scars, protective sex, aftercare

A/N: I don’t write much smut, so it isn’t my best, but it’s soft and caring. Please give me some feedback I appreciate it s lot :) I kinda wanna write more about them

For three months she has been Harry y/n boyfriend. She loves to hang out with him. They always study together at her house or they go on walks.

Y/n noticed how shy he is. When they go out to eat dinner he asks if y/n can order for him. Of course, she says yes. She doesn’t want him to get too nervous around strangers. If he does he picks on his painted fingernails. He’s a good boyfriend, the best she ever had.

Harry hides his hands in the sleeves of his oversized sweaters. That’s one thing she loves about her lover.

Y/n liked him for over two years and finally took the courage to ask him out. She noticed over the two years how he blushed when he talked to his friends about something and often he looked at her. When she was with her ex boyfriend he looked sad and his friends tried to cheer him up all the time. He watched her a lot when she was with his ex lover. He couldn’t help it but always had his eyes on her no matter what.

Harry thought y/n is the most beautiful girl in school. She’s smart, soft, beautiful and so talented. She’s good in art class. He loves her sundresses and her big sweaters. He wants to steal one from her.

There is no reason not to have a crush on her.

"H can I braid your hair?" She asks sweetly. Her eyes scan his face and she sees how his cheeks grew red. It’s adorable to see him like this.

"Y-you want to?" He asks her back in a whisper.

"Mhm, you hide that face too often," and before he knew it his whole face was red. "May I?" She pressed her nose in his temple. He nods. She pulls his grey hood down and can’t help it, but look into his forest green eyes.

Y/n wanted to open his grey cardigan. He laid his hand on y/n. "’M only wearing a shirt, I’ll get cold." His voice comes out in a whisper.

"Okay," she kisses his hot cheek. Y/n love doing his hair. When he allows her girlfriend, she makes her boyfriend some pigtails or braids them. Sometimes she uses just some colourful hair clips. On other days he asks for buns with those colourful hair clips. Sometimes the shy boy asks her to make him some pig tails as well. Harry likes them a lot.

He’s too shy to talk to her on some days, that’s the reason why she always plays music. Y/n parents even talked to her about it and told her to have safe sex. Always use protection and that she doesn't have to do anything that makes her uncomfortable or don’t want to do.

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After four months of being Harry’s girlfriend he opens up more. He’s still shy, but it gets better. He kiss y/n soft hair that smells like flowers. He loves smelling her hair or just watching her doing her make-up. He sometimes asks if he can curl her hair and of course she says yes. Harry loves helping her.

Harry brought his girl home one time to show her where her boyfriend lives. "Mom isn’t home don’t worry," he says walking into the kitchen. "Food?" He asks simple, still nervous.

"A yogurt, if I’m allowed to," he nods, taking the yogurt out of the fridge and a spoon with him upstairs.

She looks around watching him change out of his sweater into a long arm shirt. It’s the first time y/n sees how he’s looking under his long clothes. Y/n never really thought about how he looks under his big clothes, maybe a little belly that would be cute. But she never thought he had a trained back.

Y/n unlocked her phone and started to scroll on instagram she doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable by looking. "Are ya still hungry?" Harry turns around and looks up at him and shakes her head.

In school her lover let y/n eat with his friends just for a few days in the week. It makes him really nervous. She sat there and ate with them. Harry picked again on his fingernails, "you don’t have to be nervous," she whispers in his ear before kissing him on his cheek. He gives her a simple smile and tangles their fingers.

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Harry’s hugs are big, warm and comfortable. He was so shy, but grew more comfortable around her and touched her. He wanted to share physical touch with her. Harry hugs her now, touches her arms sometimes or kisses her face. Or talks a lot more than she was used to.

Today is a day where her boyfriend wants her to stay at his house. His sister is at home and Harry had to introduce y/n to Gemma. "Hi, it’s really nice to meet you. Harry mentioned you a lot." He turns shy, again. Gemma hugged her, they talked a lot. The prince stood by the two girls and held y/n hand patiently. Waiting for y/n to come to his room.

When they went into Harry's room he put some music on and asked y/n for pigtails. She did not put two strands in the braids, because it looks cuter.

H almost dropped his phone, when she pressed her soft lips against the delicate skin of his neck. Harry never admitted it, but he loves tiny neck kisses; it was the tingles that ran down his spine. He loved the intimacy of it. A little moan escaped his soft lips.

She was bold for the first time in their relationship. "S-sorry," she whispers and hides in his neck.

Something snapped in Harry’s head. He doesn’t know she feels that way about him. "Don’t hide from me, pretty girl," he turns his body to her. Harry can see how red her cheeks are. Now she knows how he feels around her.

He puts his hand under your chin and gently till’s her head up. "Hi," she smiles.

"Hi," he kisses her forehead. It's strange for her how gentle he holds her face in his big hands. Her eyes are big and glassy. Even with his pig tails he looks dominant. He freed his hair out of the hair ties.

He wraps his fingers with his rings around her throat and squeezes her sides with light pressure. She curls her fingers around his wrist. No one ever choked her. It's new, but it sends a rush through her body. His grip around her throat gets tighter. She can see the pleasure in his eyes just from choking her.

It’s strange to see his dominant side.

"H-harry?" He loses his grip around her throat. He smirks, he grabs her face between his palms to bring her down to his lips, he kisses her softly for the first time. She’s scared to touch him at the moment. The kiss feels so good, but she’s not sure if it’s okay to touch him now.

"Love?" Harry asks.

"Mhm," he chuckles.

"Can I touch you?" His voice is confident. H’s warm hands are smoothing over her hips. She swallows hard, "it’s okay if you don’t want to," he leans in for a second kiss.

"Do you actually like me?" She asks unsure.

"I can’t stop thinking about you for more than two years. You’re the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last when I go to sleep. You’re the best that ever happened to me. You help me a lot. I can’t lose you. I need you in my life. I told my mom about you before we even dated." She hugs him tightly, her eyes are teary. He rubs her back.

"You can," she said quietly, "I‘ve done it only once." She’s insecure about it for no reason. She knows he had more girlfriends in the past so he’s more experienced then her. One of his exes is y/n old friend. She was toxic. Y/n was happy to finally leave her behind. She told her how good he is and what they did even though she knew y/n likes him a lot at that time.

"No sex until you are 100 percent sure," he kisses her temple short. But there is another reason why she feels so insecure about it. "There is still something wrong," he murmured. "What is it?"

Her eyes closed, "you were with Lana and she told me so much stuff, what you did to her." Harry softly kissed her forehead, he stroked her knuckles.

"She was my girlfriend, but I never was intimate with her." Y/n eyes open again. Before her, he wasn’t shy. Maybe she used him, there was a rumour that he has scars on his body. She did something to him. She was never really in love with him. After she left him he was shy and insecure. Her boy won’t be the same. She did something he will never be the same.

She changed him.

"Can we wait a little longer?” He nods short.

.⋆｡⋆˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

Y/n found out after six months that her boyfriend is shy, but loves to take control in the bedroom.

He often finds an excuse why he needs to see her. Is it for homework or a project he wants to help her mostly it ends in a make out session. All he wants is to taste her lips.

He’s adorable.

H is still so shy around her, but he takes control over her, it makes her feel things. She never thought he could be like this. Not the shy boy.

She loves that about him.

Harry takes y/n out to picnic dates, in the summertime. He surprised her with a lot of dates in the past three weeks. They go book shopping or just go for a walk in the park and feed the ducks.

Harry invited y/n over, he’s alone at home for the next couple of days and he wanted to spend some time with her.

Y/n laid on his bed, he watched the pattern’s of her breathing. He tells her things she never heard before. He asked questions to the ceiling and never knew what she was thinking.

But she liked it, he liked her. He thought a lot about it. He laid his hand on her soft skin and started to stroke her inner thigh, teasingly. He saw how y/n breathing picked up. Her gaze stays on the ceiling above her. His fingers outlined her panties.

Harry loves it when it’s summer and y/n wears skirts and her pretty sundresses. Barney Stinson said it’s never too late to wear sundresses.

"Harry," she whines. His lips leave only a chuckle. It’s mean to tease her, but she looks so cute when she squirms under his touch. He can’t help it.

"Mhm, want me to touch you? Eating you out? You would like that, wouldn’t you?" She nods eagerly. "Words, bunny," he orders.

"Please touch me, need your mouth, please," a smirk grows on his lips. He hooks his fingers in her underwear and pulls her white lace panties down and puts them in his jeans pocket.

He settles his body between her legs and presses some light kisses against her skin. His fingers pull her sundress up to her belly. His plump lips suck eagerly purple bruises into her skin. Y/n reached her hand down to tangle her fingers in between his ringlet’s, "so impatient," he shakes his head and leaves a hickey on her hip bone. His tongue starts with slow board licks, y/n tugs on his hair.

"More please," she whines out. He flicks his tongue skillfully over her clit. She remembers that Harry told her to say what she wants. "C-can you maybe—" she got cut off by a moan.

He lifts his head up, "what do you want to tell me," he teased her by kissing, licking and biting her spread thigh.

"Can y-you maybe, um, suck a-and glide up," Harry nods and hums short. He brings his mouth back down to kiss her clit. The vibrations from the hum shoot through her, with the action she asked for making her eyes roll back in pleasure.

He repeated these actions using the tip of his tongue to play with her clit. All her soft whimpers and moans were music to his ears. He pulled her hips closer to his mouth. One of y/n boyfriend's hands slides down from her soft inner thigh to insert two fingers into her pulsing heat. She immediately clenched down on him. "You taste amazing," he murmurs between each stroke.

Y/n can feel how Harry brings her closer to her climax. "F-fuck…" she whimpers into the air. Her grip on his hair gets stronger, she earns a moan from him. Her legs tighten around his head. "I’m— I’m gonna—" a whiny moan comes over her dedicated lips

"Cum for me, bunny," he said out loud. Some seconds later her mouth leaves pornographic sounds. Y/n eyes are pinched and her mouth hangs open. "Good girl," Harry’s favourite sight. "You okay?" She nods. Harry kissed her hard and shoved his tongue in her mouth to let her taste herself.

“Thank you,” she pulls him down on his neck and keeps him close to her body.

“Can I– can I fuck you?” His voice comes out in a whisper.

“Please,” he opened a brown drawer from his nightstand to look for a condom. Y/n lunches inside, she sees some condoms, lube, tissues and chocolate. “Why chocolate?” She giggled.

“’M hungry after, uh, t–touching myself and too lazy to get something,” his whole face turned red and his voice broke at the end of his sentence. If she asks him, if it’s her she thinks about while doing it, he couldn’t answer her. It's too embarrassing for him. He’ll always be the shy boy around her. Obviously it gets better, but there is a part he always stays like this.

“It’s just me,” she spoke softly to him, kissing his cheeks and seeing some of her juices drip down his chin. “No reason to be nervous, you did amazing.”

“Can I stay dressed? I take off m’jeans and boxers, but not more.” He sounds really insecure, y/n don’t want to ask what it is. Why does he feel like this? She doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Of course she accepts him for who he is. She’s in love with him.

She’ll ask him what he has to hide and why he always wears big clothes at some point.

“Can I help?” He murmurs a quiet “yes” She sits up and fumbles with his belt when she finally undid it, he stands up from his bed and pulls his light blue wide jeans down. Her eyes scan his lower half. A long shirt covers his thighs a bit up. It looks out from under his sweater. “You are so pretty,” a shy smile formed on his swollen lips. H, crawled back between y/n legs.

He lets the loose straps from her dress fall down, “no bra, y’know my birthday isn’t anytime soon.” He smirks at chest. He had an obsession with her boobs. He often just grabs them or hides every bra she left at his house, so she never puts one on and Harry just stares at her chest with a shirt on. He loves them.

Y/n dress hung in her middle, Harry’s boxers lay with his jeans on the clean floor. Y/n gave him a lot of handjobs. But they are both horny teenagers. Knowing he will be inside her is intimidating for her. He’s not small.

He tugs a few times on his cock. “You sure about it?” She whispers a “yes” and takes his soft hand in hers. Y/n have seen him a few times but only a amount of times she can count it on her two hands. He opens the condom and rolls it carefully up. Y/n watched him, his pink tongue always pokes out when he concentrates. “We can stop whenever you want,” he pressed a kiss on her forehead. He grabs the bottle of lube, puts some on his hand and spreads it on the condom.

Her lover noticed how her face scrunched up in pain and he stopped. "Bunny? You alright? Do you want to stop?" He whispers in worry, stroking her cheek softly.

“No you’re just massive.”

“Oh bunny, you never had a cock this big?” She shakes her head, “’M sorry that it hurts.” He pouts and tangles their fingers. “I know you can be a good girl and take it.” His thrusts are slow and gentle. He doesn’t want to hurt her. He wraps her legs around his waist. His shirt and sweater are ridged up. She looks at his beautiful, soft and innocent skin.

The sunlight was bleeding through his curtains. Some whines and moans escaped both of their lips. He kept the pace filling her up to the brim, pleasure filled both of their systems. Harry peppers kisses around her chest, kitten licks her breast. He teasingly took one of her nipples into his mouth and sucked lightly. Each time he did that she moaned. “You are so handsome,” her fingers go through his damp hair.

She wraps her legs tighter around his waist and pulls him in deeper with a soft moan. “You are doing great, angel.” His hand holding her face tilted her up with tenderness, kissing her swollen lips as he ground his hips deeper into her due the new angle.

She stroked his cheekbone, her orgasm came over her. She whines and moans into his mouth and Harry is close too. He can feel his balls tightening, heavy and waiting. Two more thrusts and he shoots his load into the condom. His head drops to y/n shoulder as he rides his orgasm out.

He stayed for a short moment inside her, “Aww, did I wear you out, love?” She nods lightly and covers her chest up, he then pulls out of her. He throws the condom into the bin and returns with a warm washcloth and wipes the mess between her legs, clean.

Harry helps her to put on some of his boxers and slides the dress down from her middle. He puts a shirt over her body, “I am officially obsessed with your body.” She hasn't seen his body completely yet but she knows it makes him feel good about himself.

“Hungry?” He asks her while pressing soft kisses against her forehead and cheeks.

“Can we eat some chicken nuggets?” She kisses all over his face, brings him down on his neck holding him close. Y/n don’t want him to leave her for bringing food. She knows it’s important for him to take proper care of her.

“I must say I’m the slightest bit offended that we just had the hottest sex ever and you’re thinking about chicken nuggets,” he chuckles and sees the biggest smile on her plump ips. He went downstairs, put some dinosaur nuggets into the oven. When he comes back he sees y/n snuggled up in his bed with his teddy in her arms. “Love, I have your nuggets,” she opens her eyes, lazily grabs the water glass and drinks it. She eats a nugget. Harry ate some as well.

She kisses his chest and murmurs, "you are the best boyfriend ever,” before drifting off to sleep in his arms.

He whispers in her hair, “I love you,” but she didn’t hear it. She’s asleep. “You’re the best that ever happened to me.” He pulls her closer to his chest and kisses her forehead one last time before he falls asleep as well.

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[nerdieforpedro]

Can we talk for a minute?

Chapter 3 of "This is the Neighborhood Din" Series

Din Djarin (Modern AU) x Sierra Harris (plus size OFC)

This fic is for readers 18+ MDNI

Word Count: about 2.6k

Warnings: Brief mention of injuries, awkward texting, HOA beef, boyfriends alert, that one nosy coworker, Grogu is adorable

Summary: Things have been a bit off between Din and Sierra, though individually they are doing well. Luke and Greef agree to disagree and our boyfriends are here! Dinner usually makes things better, maybe.

Notes: We meet more characters in our neighborhood or at least in Din and Sierra's orbit. I did my best with the teaching and mechanical engineering stuff. 👀 I did figure out how to make dividers finally! 😍

Main Masterlist/ Din Djarin - The Mandalorian Masterlist/ This is the Neighborhood Din Series

Two days. Sierra hasn’t spoken to Din for two days. She’d mainly been hiding in her room. She’d actually seen more of Din’s son Grogu. Johnnie Mae and Sierra never spoke about the other night, she just helped change her bandages in silence. She felt bad for not telling the truth to her aunt. Johnnie Mae felt offended that Sierra thought she couldn’t tell her. She should be able to tell her anything.

Today, Sierra had to leave the house to go into the middle school she’s supposed to be teaching at. She’d done the background check, now it was ID photos and to meet the department head of the sciences to check in. Her hair is on top of her head in a tight bun with her favorite poppy red scrunchie in it, she made sure her edges were as flat as she could get them. She wore her brown flats, a navy blue skirt and a black button down shirt. She didn’t tuck it in to cover her tummy so she pulled her skirt up and over. It was a long sleeve shirt to cover the bandages, there were a few less thankfully but she didn’t need any questions of that nature at her new job. This is a new start. All of it is a new beginning.

“Good morning Ms. Sierra!”

A small voice called her name as she saw bouncing chocolate curls before seeing his cute little face. He was waving as his father stood behind him in a red Henley shirt, a sweatshirt tucked over his brown satchel and a gray lunchbox in his opposite hand. Grogu held his bright green lunch box with a large frog on it. He ran up to Sierra. “How are you? You’re going out today? You usually are working on a project in your room right? Miss Harris said it’s a difficult one. Good luck!” The sweet little boy said before heading over to his father’s black SUV. Din nodded and his son quickly puffed out his cheeks. “Daddy! You’re supposed to say good morning, manners are important right? Isn’t that what Uncle Greef says?” Din chuckles and turns to face Sierra.

“Good morning Sierra. You look pretty today. Something important?” He asked. He was curious about so much more, but it isn’t the right time to ask at 7:30 in the morning. She’s been avoiding him and he understands but he couldn’t help but wonder how she was doing after such an intimate moment. She doesn’t expect him to really put it out of his mind right? Sierra smiled and nodded.

“Yes. I’ve gotten most of my stuff set up at my new school so I’m meeting with the science department head to get a feel of what they’re teaching and how I can fit into it. I’m excited but also so nervous. I just hope it goes well.” In explaining, she touches her left arm, the worse of the two, she released it as soon as she noticed that Din looked down at her arm. “It’s a lot better. I…maybe in another week or two.” She doesn’t want to go into any detail, not with little Grogu here. She hoped he wouldn’t ask anymore, not right now.

“That’s great. And you’ll do an amazing job. They’ll be lucky to have you. Let me know how it goes tonight.” Din offered, he wanted to extend an invitation, a reason for them to talk. At least he would know if she was willing to. Grogu had opened the door and was up in the truck. 

“Daddy! We can’t be late! You made a wrong turn the last time!” Grogu yelled, making both Din and Sierra look over at the truck. Din waved and so did Sierra who hopped in their vehicles and drove off to start their days.

Johnnie Mae watched from her screen door with a grin. “Maybe I won’t have to do anything, ‘cept keep an eye out to make sure that bastard never goes near her again. Thank God they’re divorced.”

Greef Karga did not see himself as a difficult man. He felt he was fair as far as the leader of the Homeowners Association was concerned. Most people in the neighborhood conformed to the rules about grass length, approved colors on the siding and shutters. Even roof material. There was one thorn in Greef’s side. He thought it might have been the Djarin’s who he knew through some business dealings with metal supplies for different universities and labs. They’ve settled in well so far.

Luke Skywalker and his damn grass.

Luke Skywalker and his damn charcoal gray shutters.

Luke Skywalker and his damn trailer sitting in front of his house, gathering dust and rust.

Greef was walking toward the house in question, Luke was sitting in his usual spot on his porch, drinking his brand of liquor - Blue Space Milk.

“Hey Greef, what can I do for you today?”

Standing at the top of his steps, his hands were on his hips as he sucked his teeth. 

“You know what Luke. At the very least, the trailer that I’ve never seen you use. You don’t have any registered business that you can use it with.”

Luke chuckled as he took a swig of his blue liquor, some of it dribbled in his beard and wiped on the bottom of his tan sweater. 

“It’s on my property, I don’t see why you’re worried about it. There was just someone who moved in a few days ago. Clearly property values aren’t too bad. Like you keep claiming it would bring down prices.”

Greef rolled his eyes and sat down across Luke. “One thing Luke. If not the trailer, then the grass. I’ve seen three snakes in the last two weeks.”

Luke stroked his beard and leaned back in his chair. “I’ll think about it, if you buy me some more Blue Space Milk.”

“That shit is $100 a bottle and I don’t like your dusty, cranky, lazy ass. I’m not buying you a damn thing.”

“That’s a damn shame, Greef. I’m not doing shit.”

Greef snickered and stood up. “That’s alright Luke. I know someone who can motivate you. See you later.” Karga walked back down the porch stairs and threw Luke a thumbs up while the grumpy bearded man tipped his bottle toward him. Skywalker didn’t have the foggiest idea what Greed could be up to. He hadn’t been able to get him to comply with rules thus far, so he wasn’t worried about it.

Din watched as Grogu ran towards the double doors after giving him a hug. He’d be able to drop him off at school the first month, but after that, he needs to be at work at 7am and off by 4pm but thankfully in addition to being able to play with the other kids, Ms. Harris would keep Grogu for before and after school care. After making sure his son was safely in school, he pondered if he should send a text to Sierra. He did have her number for the other night but he didn’t know if it would be a bit much. They did at least speak today. He decided he would think about it more as he headed to work.

Sierra had finished her short meeting with the principal and was on her way to meet with the science department head. Things went well, the principal said that depending on how things went, next year, she might be able to join as a full time teacher instead of just subbing. Thinking about this morning, he’d reached out even though he didn’t have to. She honestly thought it was best not to speak to him, keep her distance. She believed that she had put way too much on him in their first meeting. But despite that, Sierra’s mind wandered to how he held her, how safe she felt, that he told her it was okay to be fragile. 

Thinking about it made her cry. Half the time she thought it was because he pitied her, but she thought about what he said and did. Asking if it was okay, apologizing because he thought he may have done something to make things worse. The care Din showed her in that one evening. Sierra needed time to accept it, that it’s alright. 

She arrived at the department head’s office and she was finishing up a call so she decided to send him a text. Opening her messages, she saw the cute pictures of Grogu and her aunt napping on the couch. Sighing with a soft smile, Sierra sent him a text:

Good morning Din. So far things went well with the principal and I’m going to meet with the department after her call. I hope you and Grogu are having a good day. Maybe you should come by for dinner tonight with Grogu. If you’d like. 

The department head got off her call and waved Sierra in. She entered with an extra pep in her step. She was taking another small step forward.

Din was in the middle of applying a concentrated torch to a sheet of aluminum alloy to see if by adding bronze to it would help increase it’s melting point and also be cost effective. So far, the temperature was up to 600 degrees Fahrenheit in the testing chamber as Din, Ray and Finn watched the experiment closely, taking notes. That way, it could be used to withstand temperatures needed for all sorts of applications. While bringing the temperature down, they discussed what they were going to eat for lunch. Din had packed his own from home, Ray did the same and Finn was waiting on his ride.

“I swear, he’s always late! He’s lucky he has all that curly hair and other attributes…” Finn’s voice trailed off as Din and Ray snickered. They knew exactly what Finn was referring to as it referenced his boyfriend. John and Mark, who’d helped Din move in, stopped by their lab to ask how things were going in the new house. Din said they were going well and that his neighbors were proving to be really hospitable. As they chatted, Rey chimed in asking about Grogu and school. Din said that it had only been a day but he was taking to it well, already having a friend in Quinton who they both originally met at Ms. Harris’ home.

“Hello good people! Have you seen an intelligent gentleman with a perfect brown leather jacket on?” A voice that they were all familiar with had them turning toward the door, with arms stretched out, only two buttons secured so all of his chest wouldn’t be out and bouncing obsidian curls with a bright white smile to match strolled slowly into the lab. 

Ray rolled her eyes hard and pointed to Finn who had stood up, picked up back and threw his arms round Poe’s shoulders. “You need to stop running late. I only have thirty minutes for lunch.” Poe kissed Finn’s neck and pulled back.

“I know, I know, but where we’re going has that coconut cream pie you love. Then I’ll make it up to you later.” 

“You naughty pilot you. Alright, let’s go.” Finn grinned and as he walked out, he popped a palm on Poe’s ample derriere. 

Din and company chuckled and went to his workstation. He let Rey chat with John and Mark while he went to go eat his lunch. He had a chicken sandwich with pringles and a strawberry applesauce cup that Grogu had stuck in his lunch that morning stating that he needed more color in his lunch and some fruit. He smiled at the applesauce and wondered if Grogu was having a good day too. He took out his phone and saw a notification and his eyebrows raised at the name: Sierra Harris. Din read it three times, trying to make sure there weren't any hidden meanings, there were not. He texted her back:

Good afternoon Sierra. Sorry for not seeing this earlier. I was working in the lab and I usually leave my phone at my workstation for safety. I hope things went well with the department head. They’ll make you full time by next year. We’d love to come by for dinner tonight. Let me know what time we need to be there.

Din sent it as Rey peeped over his shoulder. “Who’s Sierra? She’s met Grogu, that sounds serious.” Din closed his eyes and then looked up at Rey, annoyed. 

“You don’t have to be in everyone’s business Rey. Go back over to John and Mark. Nothing over here is any of your concern.” He stated flatly. Rey was a good colleague, though, but a busybody. He made sure that for the first two years of working with her, she didn’t know he had a kid. Of course when she found out, she took it upon herself to match him up with single moms and women into DILFs. A term he didn’t need to know about and was sorry he knew about. Rey took the hint and left him alone as he peered back at his phone. Three dots were rolling across the screen.

Sierra replied: Dinner will be at six tonight. I look forward to seeing you. What did you mean by safety? Do you work a dangerous job? My meeting with the department head went well. I start next week as there’s a teacher out with COVID. 

Um, is this a lot? This texting during the day? Since your job is dangerous, maybe I shouldn’t.

Din saw her delete the second message and he chuckled when she wrote:

You saw that didn’t you? How lame is that? It is too much, isn’t it?

His response was swift as he didn’t want her to spiral which to looked that was already in progress:

Texting me is fine. I won’t always be able to answer because I handle volatile compounds at work. That and I’m usually the one telling my co-workers to not be on the phone all the time. It’s not too much. Just type what you want to say Sierra.

Sierra could hear each message in the same comforting voice from two days ago. It made her smile as she leaned against her car, getting ready to head back home. She figured she would type it since he said to type what she wanted to say:

I didn’t say it the other night and I should have. Thank you so much for what you both said and did Din. That entire day for me was insane and I could only process so much. I should have said it sooner. I’ll explain better in person. I owe you that, tonight after dinner.

Din decided against telling her that she didn’t need to explain anything to him. He did want to know everything about what happened the other day and what led up to it. He’d only known her for a few days so he’ll take what information he can get.

You’re welcome Sierra. Tell me what you’re comfortable with. There’s plenty of time. I look forward to our sit down after dinner.

Din could kick himself…’sit down’? That sounds like she’s in trouble. Being team leader of these goofballs and Grogu’s dad might have rendered his vocabulary a bit lacking. Sierra only laughed at his word choice and got in her car to go home. She’s going to bake a cake tonight. It’s going to be special.

Chapter Two Chapter Four

Peeps who want to hang out with Poe and Finn: @readingiskeepingmegoing @604to647 @syd-djarin @yorksgirl @harriedandharassed @survivingandenduring @drawingdroid @katw474 @trulybetty @bitchwitch1981 @soft-girl-musings @tinytinymenace @djarinmuse @littlemisspascal @pedroshotwifey @megamindsecretlair

#pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin au #the mandalorian #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x ofc #this is the neighborhood din #grogu and din

[voulezloux]

ollie’s first big bang fic snippet

hiiii the title is a lie technically because i’ve written for big bang before but it’s my first time writing one for 1d so also not a lie. purposely being vague because i don’t want to give much detail out yet but thank you to @thechavier and @srldesigns6277 for the tag and giving me an excuse to post a little look into this fic!

“And, God, Isaac’s just a fantastic songwriter, you know?” Louis hears as he zones back into Niall’s nonsense. “He really knows what it’s like to be a twenty something and not knowing what to do with your life. It’s almost like he’s been lost for a long time and the band helped him find himself again.”

“Damn, Ni,” Louis chuckles. “You sound like you’ve got a little crush on the guy. You sure you’re not a little…” Louis flips his wrist so it’s limp, raising an eyebrow at him.

“You know,” a voice from behind them interrupts before Niall can respond, “that seems a little homophobic, if you ask me.”

The voice startles Louis, stepping out of Zayn’s hold to turn around and look at whoever made the comment. What he expects is someone with greasy hair, ratted clothing, and tattered shoes. Someone who thinks calling him out for one jab at a friend for sounding homophobic is the epitome of allyship and can’t take a joke. Someone who looks like they’re five steps away from having their life in shambles. He expects someone who’s unattractive, both in appearance and in personality.

What he sees is, really, the complete opposite.

Standing behind them are two men, one with a shaved head and a bald fade on the sides, the other with long hair thrown into a bun. The shaved head man is gnawing on his lip, hand on the bun man’s shoulder. He looks like he didn’t want his friend to say what he did, almost embarrassed that he even said something. Bun man just looks mad. His eyebrows are knitted together, a crease in his forehead and hands shoved in his jacket pocket. Despite the chill in the air, bun man has all but four buttons of his shirt undone, exposing his chest and peaks of his tattoos. His jaw is set, there’s a tenseness in his body. The shaved head man looks like he’s about to bolt.

It would’ve been easier if bun man wasn’t as hot as he outwardly appeared. Louis can see his green eyes are a bit darker with anger, his jawline is sharp and accentuated by the fact his hair is pulled back. He doesn’t have much facial hair, but neither does Louis, so they at least have that in common. Despite the intimidating stature he’s taken, he can admit bum man is attractive. Hell, his friend is hot with a slit in his eyebrow and kind, brown eyes. But his friend isn’t giving him weird butterflies in his stomach quite like bun man is.

“Mate, he’s straight,” Louis responds, jutting a thumb behind him towards Niall. “It’s just a laugh, anyways. Nothing to get upset about.”

Bun man’s jaw ticks. “So, you’re using being gay as an insult then. That’s very cool of you, using a marginalized community to your advantage.”

Louis resists the urge to roll his eyes. “It was a joke, mate. Come off it, why don’t you?”

“I don’t see why you’re using gay people as the punchline of your joke.”

“Harry,” the shaved head man hisses, hitting his friend’s arm.

Bun man - Harry - doesn’t budge, locking eyes with Louis as if to

challenge him. For fuck’s sake, of course, the one time he makes a joke about Niall’s sexuality, he’s got some woke ally jumping down his throat.

“He’s queer,” Niall says slowly, raising his hands up to try and mitigate the peace. “He’s so incredibly queer. Is he allowed to make those kinds of jokes then?”

Harry’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second, and his friend hits his arm again. “This is why you don’t assume things, Harry.”

tagging @allwaswell16 @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed and anyone else who wants to do this because i’m seriously blanking on urls 😭

#o posts #the ominous big bang fic #this IS the fic i’ve been posting about and YES they have finally met #only took 14.3k but here we are!

[romaine2424]

Eight Days A Week (Chapter 12) is up!

We're into the long chapters now!

Chapter Summary:

Protection spells pays off. Chief Rogers is not happy. Harry goes home for a short visit and meets exchange Aurors in UK. Libby is having medicinal potion issues and gets a tattoo. Oh and a little bit of flying takes place.

Excerpt:

As they approached the patinaed wrought-iron gate and narrow stone steps leading up to the White Wyvern, Harry’s attention was grabbed by Libby waving at him from the shop below at street level. Pansy, Hermione, and Padma were beside her waving, too. “Just a minute,” Harry said to the three other Aurors and then opened the chipped, green-painted door to Markus Skarr’s tattoo shop. “Libby? What—what are you doing?” Harry asked as he saw her left forearm laid out and Markus with his grey hair in a bun but with strays sticking out, bent over making designs on her Dark Mark.

“Oh, come in, Harry,” Hermione said. “Isn’t this exciting?”

“Sure?”

“Markus was upstairs with us, and he mentioned that he could camouflage the damn thing.”

“No reason for the witch to carry the Mark into her new life,” Markus grumbled through his beard.

“Is—is that a Dark Mark?” Karl asked. Emily pushed forward so she could see too. The entry to the shop was tight.

“Yes,” Libby replied. “I was a Death Eater and Potter standing next to you saved my arse from going to Azkaban. Ouch! Oh, sorry, Markus.”

“No problem. Might need another swig or two, though. The snake doesn’t like being played with.”

“Here, Libby,” Pansy said and handed her a bottle of White Rat Whisky. “Dusty said you might need it.”

“Do you want me to stay or surprise me later?” Harry asked Libby.

Libby took a long drink of the whisky, coughed, handed it back to Pansy, and then pointed upstairs. Harry walked over and gave her a kiss on the temple. “Upstairs it is.”

Read more: Eight Days A Week (Chapter 12) on AO3

#eight days a week #romaine2424 fics #transfem draco #transitioning #drarry #drarry fic

[the-gamer-squad-goals]

Shifter’s Guide to the Multiverse Entry 2 | Teammates pt. 1

“ Okay, okay, is it on?” A voice peppy and bright piped up, rushing around the camera. The scene was lost in a confusion of fingers, hiding most of the details behind long dark digits.

A few moments later it was switched to show a dark hair boy. He was fiddling with some sort of contraption, only briefly looking at the camera before returning to his work.” Yeah, the light’s on.”

“ Sweet! This is Toga speaking-“ The camera was clumsily turned around to reveal a young girl. Her hair was twirled into twin messy buns atop her hair and her eyes were an unsettling yellow. Even odder was that they reflected the light like a cat’s, slitted and all.”- and this is us recording our experiences as shifters!”

“ There’s so many cool things we do!” Toga began with a grin.” And we can’t wait to show you everything about us!”

“ Why is it us? Why am I included in this?” Tim asked moodily with no real venom in his voice.

“ Because you’re my friend and I’m making you do it!” She chirped, grinning happily.

“…Fine.” Was his final response, eliciting a squeal from the vampire-esque girl. It was only seconds after that the camera cut off, seemingly running out of battery.

{•}

Entry 2 | Teammates pt. 1

The video starts suddenly, the lens pointed down at a wooden floor. The person behind the camera mumbles a bit, moving the camera around before it’s finally brought up.

The girl from before, Toga, grins at the camera as she says,” Hello everyone and welcome back! Today I have my friend Tim-Kun with me! Say hello Tim!” A small mumbled greeting is his response, earning an eye roll from the blonde.

“ Anyway,” She began,” Today we will be talking about our first topic! It is… What’s the word again? Friends, but you work with them.” She looked to Tim behind the camera, and after a moment she grinned.” Teammates! That’s the word! So on our team there are a lot of people, right?” She’s practically bouncing on the balls of her feet now, her excitement infectious even through the screen.” And you’ll get to meet some of them!”

“ Who first?” Tim’s voice rang out, louder than it had been previously. She perked up with a look of consideration before grinning.” We’ll have to go to the person who’ll love this idea~” And, suddenly, the video goes black.

{•}

The camera shuts off for a moment only to come back on to reveal a boy. However, he was much different from Tim. His skin was a darker tone than the previously mentioned boy, and despite him having dark hair as well, he had shinning green eyes behind black frames, not blue. His mouth was set in a smile as well, amusement clear.

Next to him Toga was animatedly talking to him, her chatter nearly indecipherable as she seemed to talk about her idea.

“ So let me get this straight,” he ran a hand through his hair, showcasing a lightning bolt scar,” You are making a series about being a shifter?”

Toga nodded enthusiastically,” Yes! You know how Tim-kun has been feeling left out-“”Hey!””- And this would not only be a good way to help him integrate into the team, but also help out future shifters as well!”

Harry sighed, the sound fond yet exasperated as he asked,” Is Tim okay with doing this?”

“ He’s holding the camera, isn’t he?” Her head tipped to the side cutely, voice deceptively innocent. Harry sent a questioning look to where Tim assumedly stood behind the camera, earning a quiet chuckle from the boy.

“ I don’t mind,” He said,” It’s actually kind of nice. I missed working with a camera.”

The older boy gave him a small smile as he said,” Alright, well if Tim is fine with it, and the others are too, I don’t mind.”

Toga gave an excited shriek, encasing him in a side hug with no hesitance. He returned the hug just as thoroughly, squeezing her gently before letting go and stepping back.

“ I need to go and talk to Salazar about working on some spells he promised to teach me,” He began, giving them a mischievous look.” But I suggest going to Draco next. He’s in his room reading right now, and he needs to socialize anyway.”

“ Thank you Harry-kun!” Toga gave him yet another short hug before stopping short.” Is there anything you want to say for the camera?”

He stopped as well, giving the camera a meaningful look before he slowly started,” I never got to have someone who cared about me.” He stated.” Not until I met Eve. And then she gave me a family, people who don’t care that I’m Harry Potter. They just care about me, Harry. There’s no hidden agendas, none of them want to use me. Most of them wouldn’t even need me- they’d do fine without me. Except. We do need each other- each and every one of us. Because we love each other, you know? Maybe not right off the bat, but I don’t know what I’d do if I lost any of you.”

Everything was quiet for a moment until a tiny sniffle came from Toga.

“ Toga?” Harry asked her gently, laying a hand on her shoulder. She choked on her cries for a moment before she flew into his arms, squeezing him tightly.

“ I love you too Harry-nii!” She cried, holding onto him desperately. The camera was fiddled with for a moment before going out once again.

{•}

This time the video comes on to reveal the inside of a room. It’s luxurious, filled with deep rich greens and shimmering silvers. On a bed draped in silks and cotton, a blue-haired boy laid there as he looked up to where Toga sat beside him.

“- Not a good idea Toga. What if someone gets ahold of these tapes?” The boy, seemingly Draco, gave her an almost scolding look. Toga, not one to be dissuaded, gave him an exasperated look in return.

“ Draco-kun we’d keep them safe here! Who could take them with all of us around?” She pouted, her hands on her hips as she gave him a pleading look.

“… If Eve says yes then I say yes.” He finally relented, earning a cheer from the girl.

“ Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!” Toga cried out, nearly knocking him over in her excitement.

The video ended with light grumbling from the silver-eyed blonde, but there was undoubtedly a smile on his lips as he hugged her back.

{•}

The video started up once again, but this time it was to reveal the inside of yet another room. This one leaned more towards comfort than any real theme- though purple was prominent throughout the room.

Through the direction of the camera, it was obvious Tim was sitting down, while Toga and presumably Eve sat on the opposite side of him.

Eve was a girl with long brunette hair that reached down to her hips. It was threaded with gold tinsel and golden bells that curled along with her curls. She was in a deep conversation with Toga, whom was just as invested as she was.

“ -not a good idea.” The brunette argued, her hands enunciating her words.

Toga gave her a pleading look, golden eyes wide and watery, and it was obvious the blonde was chipping away at her will.

“ I- Please Toga, you know why it isn’t safe.” Eve sighed tiredly, leaning back in her chair.

Tim interjected” I really don’t see the harm in it.”

Eve shifted in her seat slightly as she explained,” It’s dangerous if the tapes got into the wrong hands. Even the hint of our existence to someone who wishes to do us harm… It could spell death for all of our loved ones.”

“ But we’d keep it here! Nobody could get to it, and imagine if someone new joined the group! Don’t you think it’d help them?” Toga argued vehemently, her gaze focused on Eve’s considering expression.

After a few moments, Eve finally relented,” Alright, fine. As long as you keep it safe, particularly in your guys’ rooms.”

The video ended with Toga’s delighted yell of triumph and Tim and Eve’s laughter, but more was to follow.

After all, the power of Toga and Tim together was bound to either end in disaster or something amazing.

#Entry 2 #Harry Potter #draco malfoy #toga himiko #Tim Drake #Eve #Batman #batman comics #dc universe #my hero academia #harry potter #Toga’s Entries #Gotta love them all #Fanfiction #Fanfic

[kingsofeverything]

…

#isn’t that green thing in harrys bun #the Starbucks swizzle stick???? #like????????? #im like 99% sure

[softlystarstruck]

maybe everything will be alright

for the @drarrymicrofic prompt “good for you” | 578 words, rated T, angst with a hopeful ending | thank you @m0srael for looking over this 💕

Harry walks out the door and Draco hears nothing for months before a battered postcard arrives, sent by Muggle mail and depicting an adobe inn.

The hills of New Mexico are so beautiful. I don't know a lot of things, but I know I miss you.

Meet me here? -H

Draco pulls his red hand-held suitcase down from the closet shelf, ignoring the half-empty clothing bar, where the ghosts of band tees and flannel shirts linger. I’ll come back, Harry had said. When I know how to be enough.

The flat is so quiet without him.

When Draco’s final Portkey lands, spinning him from Boston to Albuquerque, he coughs against the dry desert air.

“Hello,” someone says, and Draco turns to find Harry, his hair pulled up in a bun on top of his head. He has new tattoos, pretty dainty things slipped in between the ones Draco used to bite down on until Harry laughed.

“You said you’d come back.” Draco doesn’t mean to sound bitter, but he does, he is, because Harry said he’d come back and instead Draco is wavering with the lingering effects of Portkey travel.

Harry shrinks in on himself; Draco hadn’t realized how strong he’d been standing. “I know.”

“It’s fine,” Draco says, even though it isn’t. Harry leads him to a dusty, emerald green car, tossing Draco’s suitcase in the trunk wordlessly.

They drive into the desert, something old crackling on the radio. Draco fades in and out of sleep, his head rattling against the passenger side window. He wants to kiss Harry. He wants to be kissed. But he simply waits and watches the landscape blur, beautiful in it’s starkness.

“I don’t know where we’re going,” Harry eventually admits, raising his voice over the road noise. “I just needed to be next to you.”

“You could be next to me in London,” Draco says, shutting his eyes, wishing he hadn’t come. “If you don’t love me anymore, say so in your letter next time instead of dragging me across the world.”

“What?” Harry sounds so wrecked that Draco opens his eyes. “No, I– I love you, too much.”

“It’s been five months.”

“I don’t know how to be perfect for you,” Harry says. His eyes are on the road, but there are tears falling steadily down his cheeks. “I thought I could figure it out, but I still don’t know how.”

“Harry,” Draco says. The shell of anger and tender sadness that’s made its home around his heart cracks, just a bit, and he reaches out to brush the wetness away from Harry’s skin. “You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be good to me.”

“What?” Harry says, his voice cracking as he glances over at Draco.

“You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be– to be good.”

“Oh. Oh. I want to be good for you,” Harry says. It’s a love confession, an admission. A promise. It’s not perfect. It comes at the price of an empty bed, months of a quiet flat.

But Draco wants to be kissed, and Harry is so dear in the fading afternoon light.

“Let’s go home,” Draco says, and Harry laughs quietly against his palm.

“You are my home. I figured that much out, at least.”

Draco stays quiet, letting his hand fall to Harry’s wrist, covering the small daisy tattooed there. They turn the car around, listening to the crackling radio, driving back towards the sun.

#softly writing #drarry microfic #drarry #hpdm

[discopig]

That other girl (Thomas Shelby x Reader) [Part 1/3]

This is lowkey inspired by Sevdaliza’s song “That other girl” so give it a listen, she’s really underrated. As a member of the Grace love-hate relationship club, and an angst lover, I’m going to enjoy writing this. I might give it a fluffy ending but we’ll see! This isn’t set in any specific season because I honestly enjoy kinda ignoring the original plotline of the show... whoops! This is a short intro chapter

When Grace Burgess moves to Birmingham, she’s automatically the star of the show, her gracious face and innocence capturing the hearts of those who lay their eyes on her, but you don’t buy it. Her sudden appearance and posh aura setting your intuition off, a perk you’d gained from being around Polly so much. At first you try to ignore her presence, but when your boyfriend, and long time friend - Thomas Shelby, takes a keen liking to Grace, could you ever win against that other girl? Word Count: 978

Part 2 | Part 3

It was your regular evening at the Garrison, hundreds of drunk men piled up in the bar, the sounds of laughter and yelling penetrating your eardrums. You had been working at the Garrison for over 9 years, first accepting the job as a way to make some cash as you were only 18 when you ran away from your family, and the position happened to be vacant. You never intended to stay, the fumes of the factories and dark alleys in Birmingham being a stark contrast to the posh greenery and lavish villas you grew up with, however life doesn’t always work out the way you plan.

You were now 27 and if you were being honest - you hadn’t realized just how quickly the time had flown by... Well, when you know the Shelby family, it’s almost impossible for time to not fly by. You had gotten to know the Shelby family when Harry made you deliver 6 bottles of whiskey to their offices, a task you were afraid to take on, seeing as you were no stranger to the rumours about the Shelby family, and being new to Birmingham the last thing you wanted was trouble with the gangsters who have the city in the palm of their hands.

You had worn your plain brown cotton dress - the best item you could afford with the money you received from your job, and began your journey to the betting shop, trudging along the streets of Birmingham with the box of whiskey bottles. From that day on, Harry allowed you to serve the Shelby’s and you quickly got close to all of them, but one of them had completely stolen your heart - Tommy.

You’d never expected to fall for him, until you found yourself enamored by every word he’d say during family meetings, and lay in bed at night remembering every slight glance, or acknowledgement he’d given you. It was a stupid crush, and Tommy was quite a bit older than you and most likely saw you as nothing but a silly young girl, but when he started coming to the Garrison alone, eliciting your company to rant about his issues, or joke with you about how stupid Arthur was, he found himself falling in love with you too, your untouched innocence drastically standing out from the tainted souls of Birmingham, the way your eyes crinkled up when you’d smile, your London accent peeking through when you’d talk too quickly or how a cigarette looked almost like an expensive piece of jewelry between your fingers. So your love blossomed, and you became Thomas Shelby’s girl.

You had just delivered a bucket of beer to a table in the corner of the Garrison and were heading back to the bar, when all of a sudden you found yourself laying on the floor, the pain from your ankle hissing through your body

“Oh for fucks sake!” you exclaimed. Harry rushed over after seeing your condition - him having become an almost father like figure to you over the years.

“Are you alright Y/N?” he asked, concern beaming from his eyes

“I think I’ve sprained my bloody ankle or somethin’, it hurts like ‘ell”

Harry shook his head and offered to pick you up, you reached out to him and he took you to a taxi outside the Garrison

“Clyde, you’re gonna have to carry her up to her apartment” he said to the young taxi driver, who simply nodded in response

“You don’t need to come in, make sure you get your ankle fixed alright? Call a doctor or somethin’” 

“I will Harry, don’t worry ‘bout me, I’ll be back before you know it” you smiled at him, always being able to maintain your high spirits.

It had been two weeks since you’d been to work, your ankle was now in fairly good condition, however you still needed to be careful. Tommy had visited you almost every day, despite him being obviously tired, John had also visited a lot, always cracking jokes and making your tiny apartment smell like expensive cigars.

You’re wearing a green apron-style cotton dress with a white cardigan and some white flats - heels no longer a possible choice for the time being - your hair pinned back in a low bun, with a few loose strands at the front. You aren’t going into work today, you’re simply going to visit as you miss Harry and the bustle of the bar.

The bar isn’t as busy as usual as it’s only 2 PM. When you walk in you find Harry behind the bar, polishing some of the shot glasses, he beams when he sees you

“Y/N! I see your ankle is doing better”

“It is Harry, sadly I can’t work yet or Dr. Prew will kill me, but I’m just happy to leave my apartment for once! How have things been without me? Hope you’re not suffering too much eh?”

“Oh no no, thinks have been quite smooth with the new barmaid” he replied

“New barmaid?” you questioned

“Yeah, her name is Grace. Didn’t Tommy mention her? He’s been here almost everyday, she usually serves them and tends the bar”

“No... he never mentioned a new barmaid. Well, I’m happy you’ve had help while I’ve been gone, hopefully I’ll get to meet said Grace soon” 

You tried to sound enthusiastic, but not only were the thoughts of reasons as to why Tommy would refrain from telling you about your new colleague plaguing your mind, you also weren’t too happy about having to share the bar with someone else aside from Harry. You had gotten used to it and felt as though she might ruin your flow, and take away your usual tips.

Your deep thought is suddenly interrupted by the sound of the Garrison door slamming shut

“I’m back with the new glasses” A female voice exclaimed. You turned to the direction of the voice and felt your spirit bury itself six feet underground

Shit chapter but oh well... It’s 2 AM and I’m exhausted ❤

#cillian murphy x reader #Cillian murphy fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder x reader #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders angst #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby imagine

[westcoastrry]

Can’t Help If This Is Us

Hello friends. I’ve worked super hard on this fic. I’m not a fast writer so this took my while and I’m super happy with the way it turned out! Special thank to my bestie @harryforvogue​ . I wouldn’t know how to spell or about even write if it wasn’t for her so thanks you ugly fart face.

Also I wrote this entirely for free so all I ask is for feedback. I would really appreciate it and would love to hear your thoughts!

literally mate please let me know your thoughts. PLEASE. I beg.

WARNING: there is smut in this and mentions of the mafia.

I hope you enjoy reading Kiara and Harry’s story as much an I enjoyed writing it. 11.5k words

A fic about Kiara, a normal girl who works at a coffee shop in the upper east side of New York, where she meets Harry. A man who is caught up in a job he doesn’t want but is working hard to craft a better life for himself.

Fuck me like you wanna make love

Call me when you wanna stay in touch

Lie together just to gain trust

Say what you wanna say, can't help if this is us

Moving to New York was a fresh start for Kiara.

It’s only been a couple of months, but she has grown accustomed to the city.

She has an apartment in a not-so-great part of town, but it is close to her University, and the view from her balcony isn’t too bad. She is a coffee connoisseur, so when her pregnant friend and neighbor, Trina, helped her get a job at a cafe on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, how could Kiara truly not make the best of her newfound city life?

“An Americano please?” a deep British voice asserts.

Kiara’s cleaning off the steamer about an hour into her morning shift when the man with long chocolate curls speaks to her. Kiara has been working here for a month, and some very high profile people have come to the shop, but Kiara has never seen this man, but he sure looks important. He is in a suit, all black, and the only accessories are the multitude of rings he has on his fingers. The rose one catches her eye first, then the big gold H.S letter rings. Those are his initials? What is the point of that? Is this man obsessed with himself?

“Americano?” he says more lightly, snapping Kiara out of her thoughts.

“Sorry, I- Americano,” Kiara stutters.

Kiara isn’t one to get easily flustered, but how can she not be when this six-foot sexy man was towering over her in a suit, asking for black coffee.

Only real men drink black coffee.

She works around the machine expertly until the man’s voice interrupts her. “You’re new here?”

“Yeah,” she responds, swiping a curl off her forehead. Managing her naturally curly type four hair in the bipolar New York weather has been a challenge. Most days, she wears her thick hair in a bun, or when she can afford to get it done, box braids. “Started working here a month ago.” Kiara hands him the coffee in a brown to-go cup.

“Hmmm. I’m here all the time. I’m sure I would have noticed a new pretty employee.”

“Guess I’m not all that pretty then,” Kiara fires back, handing him a receipt with a pen to sign.

Harry doesn’t really know what to say to that because he actually does find Kiara pretty. He likes that her face is an even brown color with a few beauty marks. He likes the color of her light brown hair, and he really likes the sound of her voice. It’s sort of angelic, even when she is snapping at him.

Harry smugly hands Kiara his hefty card (the first indicator that this man has money) and signs the receipt. He drops some cash on the bill.

“That’s your tip. By the way, I do think you’re pretty.” His eyes flick down to her name tag. “Kiara.”

Kiara rolls her eyes at the man. He probably walks around life getting everything handed to him because he’s rich, white, and hot.

Screw him and his stupid cute dimple, Kiara thinks to herself. She goes to grab the receipt he signed and see’s two fifty-dollar bills stacked on each other.

Her mouth forms into an “o” shape. A hundred dollars on a three-dollar coffee? What sense does that even make? This had to be a mistake.

“Hey Kiara, are you okay?” Trina, who’s waiting tables today, asks. She has her brown apron tied over her baby bump with a few crumpled receipts and pens tucked in the pockets.

“I just got tipped a hundred dollars,” Kiara says, still shocked.

“You go, girl!” Trina enthusiastically shouts. “Who was it? A regular?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never seen him before. Brown curly hair, dressed in a nice black suit-”

“Oh, that’s Harry,” Trina smiles. “Everyone loves Harry. He is a cutie. Been getting coffee here for a long time. He owns the strip club down the street.”

“I’m sorry. The dude owns a what?”

“A strip club bar type thing,” Trina shrugs. “Very fancy. It’s pretty much only for the elite. He is super nice. Everyone loves him here! He bought me a crib and this fancy high-tech stroller when he found out I was pregnant.”

“Yeah, well, he is kinda a dick if you ask me,” Kiara mutters under her breath.

“He tipped you a hundred dollars, and you’re calling him a dick?” Trina curiously questions.

“He called me pretty! And he had this arrogant ambiance to his voice. And what is with all the rings? It’s tacky.”

Trina places her hands on her hips.“Oh, just say you find the man hot! It’s okay to admit you find Manhattan’s most eligible and rich bachelor hot. I don’t blame you. I would get on it if I wasn’t thirty and pregnant.”

“I’m not admitting anything. Besides, I don’t have time for men. Men just cause problems.”

“Oh, you're telling me?” Trina points to her bulging belly. Kiara snorts at her friend and starts to walk away to grab more coffee beans from the storage, and Trina follows closely behind her. “You need to have some fun! Loosen up. Get your head out of that textbook. You have been living next to me for three months, and I haven’t seen you invite not one boy over! I know that vibrator you use is tired.”

Kiara grabs the box of coffee beans and turns back around to face Trina. “My vibrator is doing me just fine.”

Kiara’s whole life has been centered around academics. She was a really smart kid growing up. She had a good start to life too. However, Kiara’s wholesome childhood took a turn at twelve when her Dad died in a car accident. The accident was horrific for her entire family, but it hit her mom the worst. Her mom went from being a well respected physician's assistant, to being a drug addict, and Kiara had to grow up at the tender age of twelve just to take care of her mother. Around the age of fourteen Kiara’s mom got shipped off to rehab, and she ended up weaving in and out of foster homes until she was eighteen. Kiara realized that she never wants that to happen to her future family. She has been working hard on her academics because she hopes to have a stable income, so she can give her future kid the life that she never had.

It’s not like Kiara didn’t want to go and mingle around. Meet a new guy, have a one-nightstand, maybe even possibly fall in love. However, the dating scene as a brown skin woman in a whitewashed part of the city isn’t as easy as it sounds. Kiara doesn’t teeter the line of looking ethnically ambiguous. She is clearly a Black girl. Caramel skin, tight curls, full lips, and wide hips. Kiara likes these traits that she carries. In fact, she loves them, but men don’t. Specifically, men that aren’t her race. Not to mention that Black men are hard to come by in this particular part of city.

The simple fact is most white men don’t like Black women.

It’s even arguable that Black men don't even like Black women.

And Kiara is okay with that. She doesn’t need to be approved by a bunch of white people, nonetheless ones with penises. She just wishes she had more options to date within her race, or at least find someone who genuinely liked her.

Maybe that’s the reason why Kiara doesn’t want to go out and find a man to have some fun with. She knows he’s going to be white, and she will have to endure hundreds of questions about her race and her hair or meet racist parents, and she has done that all before.

So, for now, instead of explaining this to Trina, her very white friend, she will just blow off her questions about why she isn’t sleeping around or why she doesn’t entertain the idea of going to bars to find cute boys.

+++

The next day Kiara is off work. She spends her day sitting in her bed, in red pajama shorts and her university sweater, studying for her midterm. She got through quite a bit but is still a little worried about not getting an A. About an hour into her studying, she hears bickering from Trina’s apartment.

“I don’t know what you are being so shy about. Just ask her! You are great with girls.”

“No, I’m great at fucking girls. Trying to establish a genuine connection, I haven’t done that in a while.”

“I believe in you! Now go!”

Knock

Knock

It’s another guy that Trina has been trying to set Kiara up with. Trina does this about every other month. Very rarely does Kiara entertain the idea and sleeps with them, because she is bored, but it usually doesn’t go further than that.

Kiara opens the door to her apartment and there stands Harry. He is holding a boutique of red roses in one hand, and his other is behind his back. The suit he is wearing today is slightly different. Same silhouette, but this time the suit is brown. Kiara finally gets a good look at this man, and fuck.

Green eyes, full bright pink lips. Wide shoulders and defined biceps that show he does work out but isn’t a gym rat.

Gucci loafers. Now, this is an interesting man.

“What are you doing here?”

Harry nervously gestures to the flowers in his hand. “I brought you this.”

“You just came here to bring me flowers?”

“I also brought you this,” Harry pulls his hand from behind his back and shows a bottle of wine he got when he went on a business trip in Napa. He was saving the wine for a special occasion, like the next time he would go visit his mom, but this is more than a special occasion in Harry’s eyes. He is trying to swoon this girl.

Kiara smiles at him and grabs the wine bottle. If it’s one thing Kiara has learned in her adult life is that she loves wine. She usually only gets the cheap stuff from the liquor store down the street, but Kiara has never seen this bottle before.

She walked to her kitchen, leaving Harry staring at her dumbfoundedly. She pulled out two wine glasses from her kitchen cabinet.

Normally Kiara wouldn’t entertain this. Especially since she has a test to study for. However, she can’t lie and say she hasn’t been worked up...sexually.

“Alright, you brought me wine. You are welcomed in.”

Harry follows her inside the apartment, feeling a bit awkward. Usually, Harry never found himself at a girl’s place. He always took his one-night stands back to his house and had his assistant, Trevor escort them out in the morning.

Harry was nervous because this wasn’t a one-night stand. This was him bringing wine and flowers to a girls’ apartment, which he barely knows.

Just like Kiara, Harry also hasn’t been in the dating scene in a while. He has been busy with work, and it’s not easy what he does.

“So why did you come all this way to bring me wine?” Kiara asks Harry, pouring some wine into a glass and handing it to him. “I know you don’t live in this part of the city.”

“I don’t.” Harry sits on the barstool by the kitchen countertop. “I told you I thought you were pretty. Nice place, by the way.”

Kiara looks for the sarcasm on Harry’s face when he compliments her one-bedroom apartment but doesn’t find any. Kiara’s apartment isn’t ugly. But it probably is nothing compared to what Harry lives in.

Kiara takes a gulp of her wine. “It’s kinda trash actually. This is the ghetto.”

“You go to Columbia?” Harry asked, noticing her university sweater.

Kiara takes one more gulp of her wine, finishing off what is left in her glass. She was going to answer Harry’s question. She really was. But she got a good look at his bone structure. The way his jaw is a perfectly angled line. The way his Adam apple moves when he takes a sip of his wine. Even the way his fingers glide against the glass.

She begins to wonder how his fingers would feel against her.

“Kiara?”

That was it for Kiara because she doesn’t think she can keep herself composed in front of this beautiful rich man.

Instead of pouring her wine, Kiara grabs the bottle and starts to chug the wine like she is a trucker drinking a Samuel Adams.

Her lips remove from the bottle with a pop sound. Harry is now staring at Kiara completely taken aback by her actions. “What are you really here for, Harry? Sex? Because we can cut the small talk part.”

“Maybe I actually like you, Kiara.”

“You don’t like me.”

“Who told you that,” Harry counters.

Harry watches closely as Kiara struts towards him.

“I thought you were into blonde models?”

“Where are you finding this information from?” he questions.

“Google.”

Harry smirks. “So you’re googling me?”

“You know, if you wanted to know more about me, you could have just asked.”

Kiara cut him off with her lips attached to his. She wanted him to shut up, but she also wanted to kiss him.

Killing two birds with one stone.

Harry’s lips move in sync with hers, and he places his ringed hands on her back, pulling her closer to him.

If Kiara is being honest with herself, Harry’s lips feel like magic. It’s been a while since Kiara has kissed a guy, and she feels butterflies in the pit of her stomach.

“Kiara, what are we doing?” Harry mumbles into her mouth.

“We are gonna go back to my bedroom, and you are going to fuck me. Hard.”

“A-are are you sure about that?” Harry stutters on his words.

“We both know you didn’t come here to take me out on some date. So let’s just do this.”

Harry should have confidently responded and said, “No, Kiara, that is not why I’m here. I’m here because I actually find you attractive, and I know you have been working at the shop for about two weeks now but I have been very nervous to ask you on a date.”

However, his mouth went dry because Kiara threw off her sweater and her perky boobs sat fully on her chest.

“Kiara-”

“You know,” Kiara rests the palm of her hands on his muscular chest. Kiara has the upper hand and she sees it in the way Harry was staring at her, gaping at her actions. She loves being this bold. Upper chest bare for a man who is practically drooling over her boobs. Kiara likes to be in charge, but only for a little bit. After a while she wants to be taken care of. In bed that is. “For a man of such little words, you are talking so much right now.”

Harry grabs both of her wrist, but keeps her hands placed upon his chest. He knows his heart is racing a mile per minute. Kiara feels it and for a second she thinks to herself that there is no way she is causing this man's heart to skip beats.

Kiara stands up on her tippy toes and lets her tongue dart out to touch right below Harry’s ear suckling on the spot until it turns a nice red shade. She detaches her lips with a pop.

“You want this,” Harry whispers.

“I need this,” Kiara responds back.

“Tell me what you need Kiara.”

Harry’s right hand brushes over her bare breast, causing her to buckle a bit and stumble onto Harry’s chest.

“Hold yourself up, love, and tell me what you need.”

“I need you to fuck me,” Kiara whines.

With that, Harry holds Kiara's hips and roughly turns her away from him. Her hands went out and to grab at the granite countertop, holding herself up as much as she possibly could.

“How do you want it, hmm?” Harry whispers, quickly shrugging off his blazer and undoing a few buttons from his shirt. He begins to place wet kisses along the back of her shoulder. “I can fuck you right here, bent over the counter top. Or I can take you to the bed.”

“Here,” Kiara choked out through a moan.

“Can you handle it?” Harry teasingly asked her.

“I can handle it.”

“Can I take off your shorts?” Harry asks in a more serious tone.

“Mhmm, yes please.”

Harry shimmies down Kiara’s shorts. He takes the time to run his hands over her ass. The contact of her hot skin and Harry’s ice cold rings feels good to Kiara. She wants him to spank her, but she isn’t exactly sure what Harry is into and now she wishes she was sober enough to vocalize what she likes in bed so her needs can be met.

“Let's get a good orgasam out of you. Can I eat you?”

“Yes. God Harry, you're teasing me.”

“Not teasing,” he reassures her. “Just wanna know what you like.”

Harry gets down on his knees and opts for pushing her gray panties to the side instead of taking them off. Her core is glistening in her arousal and the smell alone makes Harry’s dick twitch in his boxers.

“Stop staring at it and-” Kiara cuts her sentence off with a yelp because Harry has attached his plump lips to her clit, giving her small kitten licks.

Kiara doesn’t really prefer to be eaten out. Most men's mouths don’t really do it for her. However, Harry is doing a very good job at keeping her legs shaking. She wants to turn around and look at him, but everytime she tries he delves deeper and deeper in her core, until she can barely hold herself up.

“M’mmm. A little higher please?”

Harry smirks against Kiara’s core because the little please she added to the end of her request tells him that she is slowly letting go of the tough exterior she puts up.

“Here? Is this good?”

“Yeah. Fuck right there please.” Kiara grips at the counter harder until her fingertips turned white.

“Been eating your veggies, huh?” Harry talks against Kiara’s core, the vibrations making her shudder. “You taste good love.”

Kiara is unable to respond because Harry is really going at it. His hands tightly grip Kiara's hips. His face is completely buried in her cunt, and he feels a slight ache in his jaw from the motions he makes with his mouth.

He continues to lick over her swollen folds, and then wraps his lips around her clit, which makes Kiara arch her back and push onto him. She is a panting mess, mouth wide open, eyes pinched together. She begins to thrash around but Harry grips even tighter at her hips.

“Stay still love.”

“I can’t,” she whined. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Why don’t you ask to cum?”

Kiara chokes on her spit slightly when Harry pulls his mouth from her pussy, and dips a finger inside of her. “Am I not entitled to an orgasm?”

“You are if you wanna be good for me.”

“Well if you're looking for a good girl I think you have come to the wrong place-”

Harry adds a second finger to her, which shuts Kiara up. “Ask nicely and you can cum.”

“I didn’t know you were gonna be so-”

“So what?” Harry asks her.

“Dominant.”

“You're lucky I’m not spanking you.”

“What's holding you back?” Kiara challenged.

Harry gets up from off his knees, and his free hand reigns down a heavy smack on her ass.

“Ask me nicely,” Harry demands, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of her.

“No.”

Smack.

“Ask nicely Kiara. I can do this all night.”

Kiara snaps her head back to look at Harry. “No.”

Smack.

Smack.

Smack.

The three spanks that Harry had given to Kiara were much harder than the first. So hard that Harry started to see an outline of his hand print.  

It's when Harry gives her one more smack and pushes his fingers deeper into her, hitting a sensitive spot that Kiara gives in.

“Fuck, Harry please just let me come,” Kiara struggles to say with a couple tears falling from her eyes from being so wrapped up in pleasure.

“Say sorry.”

“I’m sorry. So damn sorry. Please, I'm so close.”

Harry laughed at how her personality has done a complete one eighty. She went from being a complete brat to now begging him for an orgasm. “You are?”

“Yes please.”

Once Harry feels her pussy tighten around his fingers he pulls them from inside of her. “I don’t think you are that sorry.”

Kiara let out a whimper at the loss of connection. Her legs are still shaking and she almost slipped off the counter but Harry was quick to catch her.

Harry's strong arms snaked around to the front of Kiara’s stomach, letting her stumble back into her arms. She felt Harry’s hard cock press up against her raw ass.“Easy now.”

Usually, Kiara would give Harry some witty comments, but right now she is too worked up from being so close to her orgamsm. She feels a bit fuzzy, not sure what to do next. Her core aches and all she can think about is getting off.

Her hands go down to rub at her clit, but Harry quickly smacks it away.

“That's my job tonight alright? You gonna let me fuck you? You're gonna be good so I can get you off properly.”

Kiara nods her head.

“Verbal consent Kiara.”

“Yes please.”

“Good girl.”

Harry’s smug voice echoes in her ear as he places wet open mouth kisses along her neck. Harry is really enjoying himself. She felt him smile against his neck when he started to coax soft moans out of her.

Kiara weakly pushes Harry's head away from her neck.

“Doll, are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No, I'm good. Can we just take this to my bedroom?” Kiara politely asks. “I think I will be more comfortable there.”

When Harry gets a good look at Kiara, he can tell he has pushed past the first layer of her tough exterior. He knows there is probably much more fight and sass in her, but right now she looks vulnerable.

“Yes of course we can,” Harry held his hand out and Kiara willingly took it as he led both of them to the bedroom.

When they arrive, Kiara sits at the edge of her queen sized bed, and Harry lets go of her hand. She whines a little at the feeling of Harry’s hands slipping away from her.

Harry chuckles at the girl. “Let me just take my shirt off darling.”

Kiara watches closely as Harry’s fingers undo the buttons one by one. His silk shirt gilded easily off his toned shoulders. He made his way to sit at the top of Kiara’s bed leaning against the headboard, and Kiara crawled on her hands and knees toward him.

“Christ,” Harry mumbled under his breath.

Harry spreads his legs wider, which allows Kiara to sit comfortably in his lap. She let her hands roam up and down his tattoos starting with the birds on his collar bone. She then notices the butterfly right above his tummy. When she places her left hand on it, tracing the wings, Harry sighs contently at her touch. It’s a comforting touch, one that he has never experienced with his one-night stands.

Harry breaks a sweat on his forehead when Kiara continues to trace his tattoos. His broad chest stops moving up and down because he begins to hold his breath. He isn’t really sure what she is doing, but it feels good. Good enough for Harry to exhale and relax into the bed.

For Harry, sex with girls usually got directly to the point. Of course, there was foreplay, but not to any extent like this.

Having someone else’s hands on your body is a part of sex. However, this feels much more intimate than that. He’s got that feeling of butterflies in his stomach when Kiara begins to run her hands all over his body. It felt like he was in high school again, having sex for the first time and being so nervous because you don’t know what to do. But in this case, the nerves and butterflies don’t come from a lack of knowledge of the female anatomy. It comes from being completely enamored by the beauty this one girl holds.

And for just a second, Harry questions if he deserves this to feel the way he feels right now. Warm and a little drunk on the feeling of love. He doesn’t love Kiara, at least not yet anyway. But he feels like at this moment, Kiara cares for him. And even if she doesn’t care for him, he wouldn’t mind existing in this false reality he has created in his head for a really long time.

Something about having his body touched in such a vulnerable way is making him feel things he has never felt in his life.

“You have a lot of tattoos,” Kiara points out, fingers still tracing his butterfly tattoo.

“Yeah, I have been collecting them over the years.”

“Which one was your first one?” Kiara asks curiously.

Harry brought Kiara’s delicate hands up to the swallows on his chest.

“These ones,” Harry’s voice shakily said. Kiara takes her index finger and begins to trace the birds.

“How old were you?” Kiara asks, keeping her eyes looking at the birds.

“Sixteen,” is all Harry says, trying to keep his past where it belongs. In the past.

“That’s young. You don’t regret any of them?”

“No, actually. I think they all tell a story. Sure, some of them are stupid, but they all got some meaning behind them.

Kiara innocently brings her hand up to his cheek, cradling his face. “You gotta tell me about them one day. You have so many.”

“Mhmm,” Harry hummed in response.

“Let’s kiss some more,” Kiara suggested, wiggling her hips in Harry’s lap to find a comfortable position.

Harry nodded his head in response letting his lips touch Kiara’s, but not yet giving in to her request. His hands find their way to her lower back, and Kiara’s hands now have made their way up to his shoulders.

“You look good. You know that?” Harry says against her lips.

Kiara now has a grin on her face and blushes at Harry as if she has never received a compliment in her life.

Kiara brushes a brown curl off of Harry’s face with her index finger, “You can’t give me compliments while I’m buzzed off of wine because you might make me fall in love with you.”

Harry smiles. “Why don’t I just fuck you like I love you?”

Harry realizes what he said and awkwardly takes his hands off of Kiara’s body, nervously running his hands through his hair.

Kiara see’s the worried look on Harry’s face, but she is just a tad bit too intoxicated to process the weight of Harry’s words.

“Or you could let me fuck you,” Kiara bodly suggests. “I just haven’t done it in a while, so you might need to take over when my legs get sore.”

Harry nods, his forehead pushed upon Kiara’s. He kisses her again, and is taken by surprise when she lightly bites on his lip. She then gives a quick kiss to the corner of the month, and then his throat. She leans over to kiss his collar bones, and Harry takes the opportunity to grab a handful of her ass.

He then slowly peels her underwear off of her. He drags it slowly past her thighs looking down at her soaking wet core.

“You’re wet,” Harry mummers into her ear.

Kiara cups Harry’s dick through his boxers, and slides them off of his hips.

Harry groans in pleasure when he feels her hand touch his hard dick that is leaking pre cum.

“Don’t get too cocky now,” her hand lazily pumps at Harry's length, which she finds to be quite impressive in size.

“Kiara, don’t forget who is in charge here,” Harry grits through his teeth.

Kiara dips her head down to lick at Harry's heavy balls, she then continues her way up to his shaft until she makes her way to his tip and suctions her lips around the pink swollen flesh.

Harry looks down at the Kiara, who is giving him those innocent eyes, as if she doesn’t have his entire dick in her mouth

“Oh fuck me,” Harrys rolls his eyes, and lets his head fall onto the headboard.

“I will. But let me suck you off first.”

Kiara passes her thumb over his dick, and kisses all around the tip. She licks him up and down before taking him into her mouth entirely, making sure to make eye contact with him.

Harry places his hand gently over Kiara’s head, asking permission to touch her. She blinks at him signaling to him that it's okay.

He took a rough grip to Kiara’s brown curls, moving her head up and down in a steady rhythm.

“That's it,” he encourages as Kiara suckles on his tip. “Fucking hell.”

She pulls her mouth from Harry's length and gives him a few sharp tugs.

“Slow down,” Harry pants. “Want to be inside of you when I come. Can you handle it?”

Kiara swings one leg around Harry’s lap, her core just inches away from Harry’s throbbing dick.

“Yeah I can.”

“Well what are you waiting for?”

Kiara slowly slides down on Harry’s dick, and his hands cling to the sides of hips, coaxing her on her way down. Harry groans at how tight and snug she feels around him.

Kiara is about halfway down when the blissful feeling starts to hit her. She tightens her grip on Harry’s shoulders biting her bottom lip.

“What's wrong? Thought you said you could handle it.”

Bravely, in one push Kiara glides right down Harry’s dick.

Harry groans with pleasure as soon as she makes it all the way down. His hands go out to grip her ass, and help her bounce up and down.

“That's it. Good girl. You like it when I call you that?”

“Yes,” Kiara responds, picking up her speed so that her tits move up and down with her.

“What do you want me to call you? I can call you my good girl, a slut, or whore. Which one do you prefer?”

“A whore,” Kiara is slightly embarrassed at what this man is doing to her, but she is so wrapped up in the lust of the moment that she really couldn’t care less.

“You're my dirty little whore, hmmm?”

Harry cranes his neck down to place a kiss on her tongue, lapping his tongue over her soft skin that smells like a floral scented perfume. He moans softly into her neck and squeezes at her fleshy hips.

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

“I’m your dirty little whore,” Out of nowhere Harry thrust his hips up to meet hers. “Fuck, Harry!”

Harry placed a wet kiss behind her hair before speaking, “How about you get on your hands and knees for me. I can fuck you like that.”

“Okay,” Kiara withdraws herself from him with ease due to how wet she was. She props herself on her hands and knees and arches her back for Harry.

Harry places a hand on her lower back. He rubs the tip of his dick over her wet folds before pushing in.

Harry moves slowly at first, testing out the waters to make sure he isn’t hurting her. Her sweet moans are only egging Harry on, and he is sure he isn’t gonna last another five minutes inside of her.

“Please Harry. Fuck me faster please.”

Harry hands grips on Kiara's fleshy love handles. It is a little tight for her liking however the pain is quickly drowned out by the intense pleasure she begins to feel.

This is a dirty shag. Harry is pounding into her at such an extreme pace that Kiara can’t even get a full moan out. Her little “uhhhh’s” and “nggggs” only encourage Harry on.

Kiara’s orgasm hits her first and it's just as blissful as she thought it would be. Legs trembling, her arms are no longer propping herself up, instead her right cheek is pushed up on the bed, and a bit of salvia is foaming out of her mouth.

“I’m gonna, oh god Kiara. Just give me a sec- fuck!”

Harry’s orgasm shortly follows and it's just as euphoric for him as it was for Kiara. This was one of the most satisfying sexual encounters Harry has had in a while and he wants to enjoy every second of being buried in Kiara’s warmth.

Harry was about to pull out from her but when he looked down at where they were connecting he realized how fucked he was.

Not only did he not wear a condom, but he most definitely came inside of her.

“Fuck,” Harry mumbles under his breath.

How could he be so careless? This has never happened to him. Harry has had quite the extent of sexual partners and he makes sure to always use a condom.

He wants to blame it on the wine but he didn’t even finish his glass.

“I need a second,” Kiara tiredly whispers, panting.

“I didn’t use a condom.”

“I’m sorry?” Kiara says still coming down from her high.

Harry runs his hand through his tangled hair nervously, “I didn’t use a condom. I haven’t had sex in almost a year though. I get tested regularly too. I’m sorry it just slipped my mind. I can run out and get you some plan B.”

“It's okay,” Kiara responds. She turns her head around to look at Harry. “Do you mind pulling out now though?”

Harry looks down at his dick, and then looks up at Kiara. “Oh yeah shit uhh.” He grabs on to Kiara’s hips and slowly pulls out of her.

“I haven’t had sex in like six months by the way,” Kiara slowly turns herself around to face Harry who has now tucked himself back in his boxers. “It could be longer honestly… it's been pretty dry here until now.”

“Yeah, same. Busy with work and what not.”

There is a moment of uncomfortable silence. Kiara has the sheets up to her bare breast, and Harry is not only taking in the raw beauty of the girl in front of him, and still beyond shocked he forgot to put on a damn condom.

“Well, I can get you some plan B. I think there is like a Target down the block from your apartment.”

“No, it's fine!” Kiara responds way too quickly. “I mean like, Trina has a stash in her car. I can steal from her in the morning. You don't have to rush out if you don’t want to. It’s not safe to drive at night, and you probably have such a long way to go.”

“You want me to stay?”

“Is that a bad thing?”

Harry shakes his head. “No...errr it's not. I would really like to stay.”

“Okay well I’m gonna pee. And clean myself up. I can bring you some water?”

“Water would be great.”

Kiara nods at him, standing up so that her white sheet is wrapped tightly around her body. She knows that there is no reason to hide from Harry. He just took her from behind and called her a whore, but Harry isn’t just any man. He is a man who looks like a greek god, and fucks like one too. So Kiara couldn’t help but be a little self conscious.

Kiara quickly comes back with two glasses of water. She has even changed into an old ratty T-shirt and a fresh pair of underwear.

Kiara hands Harry a glass and he takes a sip, “You know,” she starts, crawling into bed next to him. “If you told me you fuck like that maybe I wouldn’t have put up a fight at the cafe.”

Harry blushes, setting the glass on the nightstand next to him. “Didn’t plan this, you know. Not that I mind. Trust me, I like this.”

“I would be lying if I didn’t say I thought you were cute.”

“Oh,” Harry playfulls wiggles his eyebrows, scooting himself closer to Kiara on the bed. “Please do tell me more.”

Kiara pouts at Harry until he places a kiss on her bottom lip, another sloppy wet one on her cheek. He grabs at her sides, tickling her.

“Har- Harry! Stop, please!” Kiara begins to laugh uncontrollably. She even attempts to pull Harry’s enormous hands from her body but has no luck.

“Okay, okay,” she gives up, Harry pulling his hands off of her. “It was the whole curly hair, suit thing. I love a man in a suit, and you know you got an Americano. You have good taste in coffee.”

Harry smiles. “You make good coffee.”

Kiara hums awkwardly, not making eye contact with Harry, instead opting to stare at his mermaid tattoo with abnormally large tits.

“I like your hair too,” Harry speaks up. “It frames your face nicely. It was the first thing I noticed about you.” Harry’s ringed hands make their way to the top of Kiara’s thigh, rubbing her soft skin. “Then it was all the pins you had on your apron. You have a lot.”

“Oh. Yeah I’ve been collecting them over the years.”

“You had one that said, ‘Don’t be a damn.’ What does that mean?”

“I’m not sure,” Kiara shrugs, breathing out a relaxed sigh. “It was like my third year of undergrad. I studied abroad at the University Of Edinburgh, in Scotland and this guy who had a jewelry shop said it to me. The next day I came back he just gave me the pin and told me to always keep it with me.”

Harry smiles at Kiara with adornment, “I have family in Scotland. I’m from London though. Grew up there with my mum most of my life.”

“What brought you to New York then?”

“School then work. I went to Columbia,” Harry says, giving her the shortest answer possible. “I noticed you had it on your sweater earlier…. You know before you tore it off.”

“Shut up!” Kiara groans, striking Harry’s chest. “But yes I do go to Colombia. Just for my teaching credentials. I want to teach history.”

There is a beast of silence. “Are you sure if I stay the night? I don't want to intrude-”

“I want you to stay the night.”

Harry’s heart warms because no girl has ever said that to him. The feeling of butterflies swarming around in his tummy has come back, and he knows his cheeks are heating up in embarrassment.

“Alright.” Harry pulls Kiara’s body closer to him which makes her squeal in surprise. “Only if you keep me warm for the night.

+++

Harry is awake before Kiara.

Harry is used to waking up early for his job, and usually, he would be on his way to get his morning coffee and then head on down to the club.

However, he just can't leave the girl he just fucked last night.

Her breaths are short, and he can feel her heart thumping against his chest. She was properly attached to him, and Harry really liked it. Having her this close to him.

He takes the time while Kiara was asleep to not only watch her sleep peacefully but look at all the artwork she has displayed on her walls. There are no family pictures that Harry can spot, just a picture of her and Trina on her desk. It looks like they are at some club. Trina has a drink in her hand that looks like she is about to spill and Kiara is downing a shot.

Kiara stirs a bit in her sleep and Harry watches as she slowly blinks her eyes open.

“You're warm.” She blinks. “Do you want breakfast?” Kiara offers, nuzzling herself in the crook of Harry’s neck. “I make a really good omelet.”

Harry laughs. “Kiara I really can’t keep up with you.”

Kiara begins to innocently pepper kisses all over Harry’s neck. “What do you mean?” she pouts.

Harry groans once Kiara sucks on a sensitive right beneath his jawline. “For starters, you didn’t like me at all when we first met. Then we fucked because you claimed I was here just for sex. And now you are offering to make me an omelet.”

“What are you here for then?” Kiara presses.

Harry sighs, looking down at the pretty girl all tangled up in his arms. Harry knows exactly what he wants. He is twenty-seven and he is really looking for love. A life-long partner who he can come home to after a hard day at work. A partner who makes getting up in the morning all worth it. Someone who he can take out on dates, maybe even take to meet his brother.

He wants to take a leap of faith with Kiara. He wants to ask her on a date, however, he can’t bring himself to do that. He doesn’t want to put this girl in harm’s way because he likes her.

And it's not even about Kiara getting hurt. He would never let anything physically happen to the people he cares about in his life. It’s honestly about the hurt she would experience if something happened to him.

“I-”

Harry is interrupted by Trina barging into the bedroom.

“We will be late for the train if you don't get your ass up! You always sleep in--” Trina pauses once she realizes her best friend is wrapped up in her other best friend’s arms. “Oh fuck.” Trina points back to the door. “I’ll wait outside for you.”

“Shit,” Kiara grumbles to herself. “I forgot I had work.”

Harry watches as Kiara frantically pulls her underwear up her body. When she realizes Harry is staring at her, she turns around to slide on her black lace bra.

Harry isn’t trying to be that much of a dick, staring at Kiara while she is getting changed. It's just that her ass is littered with marks from his heavy handy, and a light bruise on her loved handles from holding her securely on his lap, while he pounded into her.

The bruises were tainted with the memory of last night, and Harry notices how every little mark told the story of their rough and passionate sex. Looking back on it Harry doesn’t know if he was too rough with the young girl. He doesn’t like that it was possible that he may have hurt her.

“You need to go,” Kiara demands, pulling her jeans on, and then her white shirt.

Harry picked up his white button-up shirt off the floor and threw it over his shoulder. “Kiara, was I too rough? Maybe you should put something on the bruises--”

“I’m going to be late for work Harry,” she snaps.

“Are you mad?”

Tears well up in Kiara’s eyes and this is very unusual for her. She never cries. She is not even sure why she is crying. She pauses for a moment not answering his questions.

“I’m fine,” Kiara answers with her back still facing away from Harry.

“You’re crying, Kiara.”

“I’m not!” Kiara yelled, throwing her hands up in the air turning around. “I- I’m just a little overwhelmed.” Kiara’s breath gets caught in the back of her throat. “I have school, and I work full time, and I’m interning at this elementary school...and that…” Kiara points to the bed. “That was the best sex I have ever had, and now I look like a complete freak.” She wipes a tear with the back of her hand. “I look like a complete freak because all we did was have sex and now I’m crying. It doesn’t have much to do with you I think. I’m just a little stressed.”

That was a complete lie and Kiara knows it. At this moment, she could care less about school or the stress of work. Its that empty feeling you have after sex knowing that this isn’t a forever thing. Harry will go back to being Harry, and she will go back to being Kiara. It is simply just sex...nothing more.

Harry gets off the bed in just his unbuttoned shirt and boxers. He tests the waters by placing a comforting hand on her back. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Just show yourself out please.” Kiara walks away from Harry’s hold, grabbing a scrunchie off her desk, and her purse. “I have to go.”

Harry doesn’t stop her. He knows that if he stops her he is gonna want to kiss her. Then he is gonna convince her to come back to bed with him, and he can’t do that. For her sake.

+++

“Are we not gonna talk about it?” Trina asks while she is driving her SUV.

Trina and Kiara usually take the subway together. It works out much cheaper for the both of them, but they can’t be late for work. Not during the Monday rush. Kiara is in the passenger seat pulling up her hair and frantically covering up a few hickies on her neck from last night. Trina is driving just a little bit above the speed limit, trying to make sure they both get there on time, and also worrying about her best friend who isn’t her usual bubbly self.

“There is nothing to talk about, other than I need some plan B,” Kiara replies dryly.

“You're joking.”

“Nope. Pass me your purse.”

Trina keeps one hand on the wheel and hands Kiara her purple purse from the back seat.

“Kiara you had sex with my best friend. Unprotected sex.”

“Exactly just sex,” Kiara shruged, digging up the pill from the bottom of Trina’s bag. “And I’m your best friend!”

“You are both my best friends!” Trina argued. “You know the poor boy actually likes you right?”

Kiara rolls her eyes. “Did he tell you that?”

“Yes! Actually, he did! More than once!”

“He is lying. I’m just a normal broke student. And him? He is a fucking rich man but he looks like a literal greek god! Trina you know I googled him. His past girlfriends are models! White, skinny blonde models. I’m not white, skinny, or blonde!”

“He was a party boy in the past!” Trina retorts. “He likes you, okay? He just has trouble communicating his feelings. I know you like him too. You just have this strange idea in your head that you are not good enough for him! Which is ridiculous.”

“It's whatever,” Kiara huffs, pooping the pill in her mouth and swallowing it, “It was a hook-up. A simple one night stand.”

“It’s okay to want something more Kiara.”

“He doesn’t want something more! It's so painfully obvious,” Kiara throws her hands up in the air.

Trina knows how stubborn her best friend is. It's why they get along so well. They both have this hot headed temperament. However, Kiara never really likes to give herself time to relax. She likes to be busy but it is clearly taking a toll on her mental health.

“Let me take you out drinking after work.”

Kiara turned her head towards her friend and smiled. “Thank you. Now we are speaking my language.”

+++

While Kiara’s working, a part of her secretly wishes that Harry would show up for his americano. She is trying her hardest to convince herself that he is not worth her energy or time, but the sex is still fresh in her mind and it doesn’t help that her body is showing evidence of what took place last night.

There is still that dull satisfying ache between her legs, the sound of Harry calling her a dirty whore plays on rewind all day. She is practically daydreaming about having sex with Harry again while making coffee.

Harry was the first man to meet her needs in that manner. Sure she has cum during sex a couple times, but it wasn’t anything mindblowing. In fact her orgasms were usually underwhelming, but with Harry he knew what he was doing. His dominance was a complete turn on.

And sure Kiara could be fuck buddies with Harry. But she thinks she deserves a little more than just casual hookups. She wants a relationship because at the end of the day, she wants to build a family. A family that makes up for her broken one.

Kiara has sat down and contemplated this before. Is it inherently selfish to want to fix her childhood trauma with a family of her own, but fuck. Can you really blame her?

+++

When Kiara gets home she quickly changes into a simple black dress. It hugs her curves nicely and it's the dress she usually pulls out when she used to go clubbing with Trina (which has come to a halt because of her pregnancy).

The subway ride to the club is filled with laughter and Trina having to help Kiara actually get on and off the train (because she pregamed at the apartment).

Once they got to the club, Trina walks up to the front of the line with Kiara.

The bouncer's eyes lit up as soon as he saw Trina, “Hi Trina. Umm, should I tell Harry you are here? James is also here too. I can let him know as well.”

“Harry is here?” Kiara questions.

Trina whispers in her ear, “Yes, this is his club.”

“I’m gonna need more drinks if I have to look at his stupid face again.”

Trina playfully rolls her eyes, “Yes, you can let James and Harry know we are both here.”

The bouncer pulls out his walkie talkie and opens the door for Trina and Kiara.

Kiara supports herself on Trina’s arm as they walk into the club, “You didn’t tell me we were going to Harry’s club?”

“I know, I thought you might put up a fight about it.”

She probably would have put up a fight about it, however she wouldn’t actually mind seeing Harry's stupid, beautiful looking face again.

The club itself is beautiful. The ceilings are covered with mirrors, and hanging down from them were stunning crystal chandeliers. The chairs are red, and glass tables are placed strategically in each booth. There is also a bar with some red stools, and a huge red door near it.

“What’s back there?” Kiara asks.

“The strip club. But we don't need to go over there. C’mon you wanted some wine, didn’t you?”

Trina and Kiara made their way to the bar and a heavily tattooed girl with a name tag that says Drew is working on the opposite side of the counter mixing drinks.

“Hey, Trina! What are you doing here? You can’t drink.”

“It’s for my friend, Kiara.” Trina gestures to her Kiara, who drunkenly waves back at Drew “She will take some wine, something sweet. I’ll just have some sprite”

Drew grabs a wine glass and puts it on the table before walking away. “Coming right up”

“James is that new guy you are seeing, right?”

“Yes. He works for Harry.”

Kiara has heard Trina mention James on multiple occasions. She even thinks he has come to the cafe a couple of times for lunch, but Kiara can’t put a name to the face. She is unsure if Trina and James are dating, but she is not sure how far she should pry. She does briefly remember Trina telling her that James does not care about Trina being pregnant. In fact Trina told her one day during their thirty minute break at work that James is just happy to be a part of Trina’s family.

“Mhmm. So Harry owns this club?” Kiara asks, taking a sip from her wine that Drew provided for her.

“Yeah. He owns a few more too. I believe it's a family business or something?”

Kiara sighs before downing the rest of her wine. “Just eat the fucking rich already.”

“Kiara? Trina?”

Kiara spins around on her chair, holding up her second glass of wine that Drew had given her and made eye contact with Harry.

He looks breathtaking. Hair neatly combed out of his face, tailored suit, ring decorated fingers that Kiara thought was repulsive, but now she can't stop thinking about how they feel against her heat.

“Trina, it's Wednesday,” Harry sternly told her, pressing two fingers to the bridge of his nose, slowly breathing in and out, trying not to lose his temper at his best friend.

“Are you not happy to see me?” Kiara says, standing up. She almost trips on her heels but Harry grabs her arm.

Kiara places her hand on Harry’s cheek. “I know you have to be happy to see me. You don’t fuck someone like that unless you hate them or love them. And who could hate me?”

“Okay!” Trina chippers up, grabbing her friend and bringing her back to the barstool. “Maybe we should get some water in you, okay?”

Harry is flustered because way too much is happening at once. Harry has told Trina multiple times that Wednesdays are not a good time to show up at the club. He has his meetings on Wednesday, and dangerous people are always floating in and out of the club talking business with Harry. He just wants to keep Trina and Kiara safe.

“Drew put all their drinks on my tab,” he tells the dark-haired bartender. “Trina, did you drive here?”

“No, we took the subway,” Trina answered.

Harry sighed frustratingly. “Okay. I'll take you two home. Just don’t leave here until I come get you.”

“Harry,” Trina starts. “I'm sure we will be fine. It’s not that big of a deal. James is here anyways--”

“Trina please.”

It's the crack in Harry's voice that caused Kiara to stop drinking her wine and look up at him.

Trina shoots Harry a look of sympathy. “Okay fine. We will stay here until you're done.”

Harry exhales the air he was holding in, a nervous habit he is still trying to break. “Okay. I will be done soon.”

“What's got his panties in a twist?” Kiara snorts as Harry walks away.

“I’m not sure actually,” Trina responds. “He is always stressed at work. I’ve been trying to get him to take a break for ages, but pulling that man away from his job is an impossible task.”

“He always seems so tense.”

Trina laughs, “Yeah maybe you can help him with that.”

“Well I see you have been helping his fellow associate...James.” Kiara wiggles her eyebrows at Trina.

Trina dramatically sighs. “Don’t even get me started on him.”

“What? I thought things were going great!”

“They are!” Trina assures Kiara. “But I’m still not sure what he wants. I’m pregnant and thirty. I really don’t want to fool around anymore. I want to settle down. The baby is coming soon and I won't have time for hookups and flings. He says he doesn’t mind that I’m pregnant, but he hasn’t said he wants a relationship with me.”

“Why don’t you just be upfront with him and ask?”

“Because I don’t want to scare him off!”

“You deserve someone who is upfront with their feelings, Trina. You are never gonna know until you ask.”

Trina sticks her index finger in Kiara’s face. “I’m not doing shit until you figure out what's going on with you and Harry.”

“Fine I’ll admit. The dick is good.”

Trina squealed. “I knew it, you filthy whore!”

“I'm just a little nervous. What if he is just hooking up with me for some weird black girl fetish? What if he is a racist?”

“I can tell you that's not Harry.”

“Am I ready for this?”

Trina takes a sip of her sprite. “I dunno. You know the answer to that question, not me.”

“Well I don’t know, and you don’t know. So that's my cue to keep drinking.”

Trina rolls her eyes and is about to tell Drew that this will be Kiara’s last glass of red wine until she makes eye contact with a man walking towards them.

“Fuck,” Trina grabs her purse then grabbed Kiara’s wrist. “Don’t talk to him okay? Just don’t look at him and maybe he will go away--”

“Trina... Haven’t seen you in a while.” The man's voice is heavy and dark. When Kiara looked up at him the first thing she noticed is that he is extremely well dressed, with a bling out watch on his wrist. “Who is the lovely lady you brought with you?”

“Leave her alone Dorian.” Trina says.

“What's your name?” The man reaches out to touch Kiara’s lower back but she flinches away.

“Don't touch me! Who do you think you are?”

He raises an eyebrow at her. “Feisty. Pretty too. You are one of Harry’s girls?”

“Excuse me? One of whose girls?”

“Are you not a dancer for the club?” the man asks in a condescending town that sets Kiara off.

“Oh hell no. You know damn well I’m clearly not stripping so what is it that you want from me?”

Trina leans into Kiara’s ear. “Kiara please leave it alone,” She grabs her wrist but Kiara quickly pulls it out of her grasp. “Let's just go.”

“No, let the girl talk Trina. She has quite a mouth on her anyway. Maybe she can put it to a much better use.”

Slap

Kiara’s hand connects with Dorian’s face before Trina could stop her. Trina knows her friend has a temper but so does Dorian. The slap slightly echoes over the music and gains a few people's attention including Drew, who stops mixing her drink and keeps her eyes on Dorian, who clenches his jaw and fixes his suit on his shoulders, trying to regain his composure.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he mutters quietly.

“And what the fuck are you gonna… Ow!” Dorian roughly grabs Kiara wrist and drags her towards him.

He holds her hand above her head. “You don’t know who you are messing with. Do I need to show you?”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Kiara begins to squirm. “Let go of me before I kick you in the crotch--”

“Hmmmm. Maybe I should teach you a lesson. Don’t think Harry would mind if I borrowed one of his girls.”

“Refer to me as one of Harry’s girls one more time and I will do more than just slap you.”

“Dorian. Let her go.” Kiara’s eyes float from the man holding her wrist to Harry who is stalking up to her with a man right next to him. His voice was deep and assertive. Something Kiara never thought Harry to be other than when he was in bed.

Dorian lets Kiara’s wrist go and she stumbles back a bit towards Trina.

“Harry!” Dorian loudly greets. “I was just telling one of your whores she needs to watch that mouth of hers.”

“She is not a dancer, Dorian.”

“Oh, is she not? Such a shame,” Dorians eyes shamelessly rake Kiara up and down. “With a body like that I’m sure she could attract some clients for you.”

Kiara launches at Dornian but Harry is quick to grab her this time pulling her into his chest.

“Behave. Please,” he whispers in her ear.

“Dorian, you need to go.”

“Harry, you know better than that. Came here for my money. Come here every Wednesday to get my payment.”

“Well, you're not getting it today. Come by tomorrow.”

“Funny you say that since you know the history between me and your father--”

“I don't give a fuck about the history between you and my father!” Harry seethes stepping closer to Dorian. “You don’t see him here do you? I made you a deal. You will get your money, just not tonight. You don’t get to threaten my friends and then just demand money.”

“You don’t want to test me boy--”

“No, you don't want to test me. Not tonight. Leave.”

Dorian smirks at Harry before raising his hands up in defeat. “I’ll be here tomorrow. If you don’t have my money there will be problems.”

Harry watches Dorian walk fully out the door before turning to Trina and Kiara. “Both of you. My car now.”

“What just happened?” Kiara questions.

“Trina just take her to the car.”

+++

The car ride back to Kiara’s apartment is silent. Kiara sits in the back confused as to why Trina and Harry kept whispering to each other. A whole conversation is happening and Kiara’s trying to keep up, but she can only get bits and pieces of what the two are saying.

“I might be still drunk but I can hear you know.” That is a lie.

Harry’s eyes glance up to the rear view mirror. “Are you okay Kiara? He didn’t hurt you right?”

“No but I did hurt him. Slapped him. And if you didn’t come and interrupt I was about to kick him in the balls.” Kiara hiccups at the end of her sentence.

“She is right,” Trina agrees. “She is more of a fighter than she leads on to be.”

“Exactly!” Kiara yells. “So if you would have given me the chance I would have fucked him up.”

Harry, who was clenching his hand at the wheel during the whole drive, lets go and smiles. “I believe you Kiara.”

+++

Harry makes sure to walk Trina into her apartment safely, before helping Kiara to hers which was a challenge in itself because she can’t even walk in a straight line.

“Woah,” Harry says, wrapping his strong arms around Kiara’s waist trying to keep her balance. “How about you sit down on the bed?”

Harry helps Kiara walk into her bedroom and he slowly sits her down on her bed. Her hair is completely ruined, her dress slightly bunched up at her hips and her lips gloss slightly smudged. Harry thinks she looks beautiful. He is staring a little too long before he realizes he should help her take off her heels.

He gets down on one knee and his fingers begin to work on the claps of Kiara’s heels until she wraps her leg around Harry’s neck and pulls him closer to her thigh.

“Wine makes me horny.”

“I know,” Harry pushes himself away from her, no matter how tempting she looks, and goes back to undoing her heels. “But I think it would be smart if I get you to bed.”

“Why was that guy asking you for money?”

“Asking me anything but that.”

“Okay. Did you mean it?”

Harry slides one heel off her foot and looks up at her. “Mean what?”

“When we met.” He grabs Kiara’s other foot. “You said I was pretty. You meant it?”

Harry is silent for a couple seconds, his voice low. “Of course. Why would I be lying about that?”

Kiara shrugs as Harry glides her shoe off. “Guys are assholes. Well most guys are.”

“Mhmm. Where can I find some clothes for you?”

“Top drawer.” Kiara points at her dresser right in front of her bed. Harry walks over to get some clothes and places them on the side of her bed. “When I moved here I hooked up with this one guy from my class. I thought there was something going on between us ya know? He was nice at first. So I was gonna ask him if he wanted to go on a date because well, at that point we were hooking up. Turns out he had a girlfriend.”

“Sounds like a dick. Can I unzip your dress?”

Kiara nods her head and stands up hastily, turning around so her back is facing Harry. “I feel like I’m never good enough to be the girlfriend.” Harry listens closely as he zips Kiara’s dress slowly. Her delicate skin has goosebumps on it. When he gets all the way down to the top of her butt he pushes the dress off her shoulders, and allows her to step out of it.

“I’m good enough to hook up with. But never good enough to meet the parents or keep around longer than a couple weeks.” She turns around to face Harry, and grabs the shirt he picked out for her, throwing it over her head, and ignoring the pair of sweats he brought her, opting to stay in her underwear.

“So do you find me pretty in a fuckable way? Or do you find me pretty enough to keep me around longer than a few weeks?”

“Do you want me to answer that? Because you are really drunk, and my goal isn’t to scare you off.”

“Yes please,” she hiccups. “If you want to fuck around lets just be up front about it. Think I’ve gotten my hopes up about too many guys and I just wanna know.”

“Well I always think it's time for me to settle down,” Harry explains to her. “I’m twenty seven and my mum will not stop bugging me about it.” He laughs but Kiara stays silent. “I guess dating is just a bit confusing for me.”

“Confusing?” Kiara questions, tugging at the bottom of her shirt to make sure it is covering her butt.

“I really didn’t expect to be around this long. I’ve done a lot of stupid stuff Kiara, stuff that I really shouldn’t have done because it put my life at jeopardy. I think I never settled down because I didn’t think I was able to.”

“And what about now? Do you think you can settle down.”

Harry inhales and exhales quickly. “I’m not sure.”

“Okay.” Kiara turns her back to Harry and walks to her bed. She is definitely disappointed in his answer, but she knew she shouldn’t have gotten her hopes up.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to keep seeing you Kiara,” Harry quickly responds, breathlessly. “I want to take you to dinner.”

“You don’t have to pity me Harry-”

“I’m not pitying you,” Harry cuts her off. “I like you Kiara. You're a nice girl, beautiful too, and I mean that. My life can be… menacing to say the least. I like you enough not to drag you into my bullshit.”

Kiara tiredly rubs her eyes with the back of her hands. “What exactly is the bullshit?”

“It's my family business and my family… Well, they are interesting people.” That is all Harry could tell her without explicitly saying, “Instead of going into finance with my business degree from Columbia, I had to join my dad’s mafia and fix all his mistakes while he lives in a mansion, even though all I have ever wanted was to have absolutely nothing to do with the “‘family business.’”

“You seem like you don’t want to talk about it.” Kiara is now sitting with her knees up to her chest on her bed and Harry is towering over her small frame.

“No. I’m not a big fan of my past. But I want to get to know you, and you can get to know me. I’m busy with work, and sometimes it's hard for me to open up, but I’d really appreciate it if we took this slow.”

Kiara pouts. “So that means I can’t convince you to stay the night? Even if I suck you off?”

Harry smiles at her. “No.” He places a kiss on her forehead. “But I will come get you tomorrow at seven for dinner. Does that work?”

“Yes it does. Thanks for bringing me home tonight.”

“Anytime. I mean that.”

Kiara flips over to her side, hands resting underneath her head. “Drive safe.”

Harry is unsure about his life. In fact he is unsure about leaping into this with Kiara. He knows they aren’t dating, and that's good for him. He needs time to figure out his life. He knows if he wants to be in Kiara’s life, he has to pay off his fathers debt’s and get out of the mafia, or else he will never truly have the life he wants.

Right now, he can see a future with Kiara. He can see himself waking up next to her, making breakfast. He can see himself enjoying a domestic life with her.

He knows he can’t have that right now. But he sure is gonna work like hell for it. For her.

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #haryr styles fluff #harry styles oneshot #harry styles angst #mafia!harry #harry styles mafia #harry styles x oc #harry styles x woc #harrystyles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #ha

[reawritesthings]

puzzle mania | tom holland

summary: bored in quarantine, you decided to do a puzzle. not knowing the consequences, you ended up finding something new about yourself.

pairing: tom x reader and plantonic!Harrison x Reader

notes: i got this from new girl, when winston was struggling to do a puzzle. & probably typos.

masterlist | taglist

“I think we should do a puzzle.” You suggested, gravitating your body towards the cupboard full of board games.

Tom and Harrison exchanged looks, concerning looks to be precise. You wasn’t exactly yourself when you were involved with a puzzle— you were a polar opposite.

“I think we should have a movie marathon instead...” Tom suggested, nudging Harrison to sell the idea more.

“We did that the other day— Let’s do a puzzle.” You eagerly said, rummaging through the shelves to find the puzzle.

“Harry Potter is on? We could all get into our robes and play a drinking game...?” Harrison grinned, knowing the use of alcohol was a good selling point for you.

You placed the puzzle on the table, blowing the dust away. You grinned, looking up at the boys. “I always commit to your stupid ideas....”

Tom and Harrison gulped, nodding as they forced their bodies to sit opposite each other. “Baby....”

You hummed in response, too occupied to look at him.

“Do you think it’s a good time to be doing a puzzle?”

“We are in lockdown. We have nothing better to do.” You snapped, tying your hair into a messy bun.

Tom knew that there were stages when it came to puzzles. First it was the messy bun and the sass that came with it. Tom tried to get Harrison’s attention but he was busy scrolling through his phone. He knew that you and Harrison were getting close, and maybe you would listen to Harrison.

“I know — but, it’s just that.. sometimes you get weird...” Tom stammered out, the last thing he wanted to do was hurt your feeling.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “I don’t get weird.” You paused for a moment, looking at Harrison. “Do you think I get weird when i do puzzles?”

Harrison bit his lip, “You get intense. You usually spend a lot of time humming, and naked....”

You laughed, winking at Tom. “Then, Tom.. you should be grateful that i’m doing a puzzle.”

Tom rolled your eyes at the comment. Usually he would be all for seeing your naked but in this situation, he’d rather have you clothed.

You laughed, empty the puzzle pieces onto the table. “Harrison, Do you know what it’s going to look like?”

Harrison took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. He gave one last look at Tom, before exploding. “What do I think it’s going to look like ?— It’s on the box. The picture is on the box.... It’s a japanese garden.”

“Calm down, Haz...” You said, trying to categorise the pieces. Harrison gave a stern look at Tom, excusing himself from the table.

“Good luck.” He mouthed to Tom, before launching his body into the couch. Tom signed, watching you from the distant as you began to put the pieces together.

—

The next morning, Tom woke up to an empty bed. Groaning, he noticed that you never even went to bed last night. Usually you would be clinging to him, but suddenly you were absent.

Tom rolled out of bed as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes heading towards the kitchen. He spotted Harrison, munching on some cereal. “Hey, Haz. You seen Y/N?”

Harrison didn’t say a word but pointed in the direction of the living room. Tom nodded with confusion. “What is she doing in there?” He thought.

“Baby...? You in here....” He said, looking around the room to find you. Once he made his way towards the table, his mouth dropped.

“Baby... Have you been doing this puzzle all night?”

You didn’t say anything.

Tom walked slowly towards you, eyeing the puzzle. For a moment he thought the pieces were connected but, they weren’t at all.

“I think you need a break. How about we go and cuddle?” Tom suggested.

You shook your head. “Nope. I’m so close to finishing.”

“Finishing? Baby, you do realise that a lot of those puzzles pieces are upside down, right?” Tom said, biting his lip to contain his laughter. “Is that an almond? Have you been inserting the almonds in? Or are you eating them?”

You gestured your hand to silence him. Tom huffed, not wanting the frustration to take over but from the looks of it, he had no choice. Just before Tom was about to speak, Harrison stormed into the room slamming his hand on the table.

“Y/N! Here is the harsh truth. You suck at puzzles. Worst i have ever seen by a mile.” Harrison ranted, making you divert your attention to him.

“Jealous isn’t a nice thing, Harrison.” You spat, crossing your arms. “Tommy.. tell him.”

Harrison saw Tom walk forward but immediately stopped him with his hand. “Tommy, stay.”

“Haz.. come on... Just let her finish it...”

Harrison gave Tom a look, “Finish it? She hasn’t even began? It’s like she has fly vision? Look at the puzzle, Tom. It’s ages six and up. She is up, Tom. She is 22!”

You abruptly stood up from your seat, walking towards Harrison. “You wanna say that to my face?”

Harrison nodded, picking up a piece. “This is a corner piece, Y/N. How can you not see that? What are you blind?”

Tom flicked Harrison’s ear. “Okay. Sorry, not blind. A blind man could feel the smooth edges of a corner piece!”

“You are making me mad.” You yelled, walking away from the both of them. Harrison followed. “I’m making you mad? You are making everyone mad.”

“Am not. Tom isn’t mad.”

Harrison groaned. “Tom, seriously? She will listen to you.”

As Tom’s name got involved he had no choice to break this up. He didn’t even think twice before scooping you up, throwing you across his shoulder.

“Let me go. I have a puzzle to do.”

Tom didn’t listen and carried you all the way to your shared bedroom. The kicking and screaming didn’t work, because Tom had just enough of this. He gentle placed you on his bed, climbing on top of you giving you a peck around your face.

After 10 minutes of Tom covering you with kisses, you began to unwind, allowing Tom to slowly come off you.

You pouted and watched Tom, slowly get into bed “Do you really think I suck at puzzles?”

Tom shamelessy nodded, “I’m sorry baby. But, Harrison is kinda right. It wasn’t even completed.”

You frowned, crawling towards him. “I thought it was going well. All the pieces were up right, i know they were.”

Tom laughed, “They weren’t. They were all the shade of the cupboard colour. They were brown...”

You shook your head, “No... It was green.”

Tom was in a confusion, he wasn’t sure if you were messing with him or actually being serious. “Wait, baby. What colour is Kermit the frog?”

“Brown.”

“I’m— He is green. It’s a frog. It’s green...”

You shook your head, again. “Babe. I know what colour he is.”

“I think you might be colour blind....”

You chuckled, hitting him lightly. “Don’t be darf. Ask Harrison, he won’t lie to me.”

Tom groaned, and pulled out his phone to face time Harrison.

“I’m not apologising.” Harrison said through the phone.

“That’s not why I’m calling. I’m calling because Y/N thinks Kermit the frog is brown.”

Harrison ended the call, not even responding to that question. Tom looked at you and pecked your lips. “I think we should give Harrison some time to cool down....”

“Maybe I am colour blind...” You frowned, playing with the hem of the covers.

“If you are that doesn’t matter.”

You nodded, snuggling closer to Tom. “You still love me? Even if i think Kermit the frog is brown...”

Tom chuckled, “Yes baby. Just don’t mention it to Harrison. He has a very unhealthy relationships with the muppets.”

You nodded, slowly letting your eyes rest. “Get some rest, baby. You had quite the day.”

tags: @honeyspidey

#tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tom x reader #tom holland #marvel imagines #tom holland fluff #harrison x reader #harrison osterfeild imagine

[sweeethinny]

Boss's son

Summary: Ginny is an auror in training, with few hours of fun in her schedule, but when one night she decides to go to a guy's house and enjoy her youth, she is surprised by the discovery that she had sex with her boss's son

prompt: "You’ve got to stop doing that" "Doing what?" "Saying things that make me wanna kiss you"

"Mum thinks I'm dating you".

Notes: I thought I couldn't finish this, really, I found myself stuck and not knowing where to go with the story, but then some things happened and I managed to finish it.

Thank you very much to Dusk who read and helped me, and thank to @clarensjoy who made this incredible event to celebrate this incredible date!

I feel that this role reversal would be good to write, and it really was, I think the idea of Ginny being an auror ... Chief's kiss :)

AO3

-------------

Ginny Weasley

Ginny did not have many fears, she had joined the Aurors in less than three years and until now she had faced death many times to be frightened by small things that other people could easily be haunted by. Dementors no longer scared her, nor Death Eaters, or anything like that, Ginny was no longer scared like a puppy in distress. She had learned to deal with situations, Mr Potter was a great boss - she would never say otherwise - but he also scared his pupils like no one else, saying that being on the alert was the best way to be a good Auror.

'Good aurors do not shake when they see the danger, they assess the situation and try to find the solution as soon as possible. Take a minute, and you will be dead.' He said in defense classes, standing on the podium with that typical scowl on him, arms crossed, watching the students trying to knock down the mannequins around the room.

But now, Ginny was mortified.

She felt her knees tremble, and she even felt the high heel in her fingers almost falling to the most manicured marble floor she had ever seen in her life. Her eyes were wide open, an immense desire to disappear completely, or to oblivion the man in front of her.

Her boss. Oblivion her fucking boss.

Ginny almost never had time to go out with guys, she went to the bar, drank, and then came home too tired to endure a round of bad sex, with some man who would cry in her ear about how hot she was and how he couldn't take it any longer. She would rather sleep, and later use her fingers, than have to put up with these guys, and clean up the mess later.

Yesterday however, it was a different day, Mr Potter, the most serious man Ginny had ever met in her life, was happy and told her that he was celebrating twenty years of marriage. They were in a distant village, checking a call from a lady who said she saw a wizard kill another one around those parts, but even that didn't seem to be able to wipe the smile off the man's face.

'Twenty years. Can you believe it?' He sighed, looking over to where the woman said there was a body, kicking what was filthy wrapped in old newsprint. Just a dead dog. 'Twenty years...'

'You look very happy,' Ginny said. 'Congratulations, Mr Potter.'

'Thank you, Miss. Weasley, and yes, I am very happy.' The man once again assured that the place was clean before checking to see if there were any dark arts nearby, or on the animal. Nothing. 'Come on, we just wasted time here.'

She had left earlier that day, Mr Potter said he was too happy to be sitting at the office table waiting for something to happen, and since she was his pupil, and she would also have to sit around waiting for some action, she could leave earlier.

Ginny didn't know much to do with that free time, she was usually always bogged down with work, so when Luna asked her out, she accepted. It was a nice night, the bar was not so crowded, there weren't so many disgusting guys leaning against her and whispering in her ear, and she was really enjoying the night, happy, laughing, talking to her friends, drinking, until she saw him.

He was sitting a few tables away, with some Arrows players, drinking and laughing out loud, drawing the attention of all the women around. At first, Ginny thought he was doing it to get attention, messing up his hair like an idiot, throwing his head back to laugh, talking loudly and rocking in his chair. But when a blonde went to talk to him, the boy seemed surprised by the attention, and even blushed, before smiling and politely denying, saying something more to her - this time, in a low voice.

The mysterious man looked at Ginny then, catching her in the act, his eyes behind the round glasses seeming to sparkle with amusement. He bit his lip and raised his beer mug in a silent toast. She did the same, wishing she hadn't been hit hard by him.

'Hello.' He said when Ginny went to the bar to get another round. The man didn't touch her, not even her shoulders, or whisper in her ear. He kept a good distance, smiling politely and ordering his beers.

'Hi.' Ginny smiled, leaning against the counter, feeling a little stupid for wanting the man to notice how beautiful her legs looked in those black skirts. 'Isn't the blonde your type?' She asked, a little sassy because of the alcohol, and also a little affected by how beautiful his green eyes were, stuck in her face as she spoke.

'No. I just came to drink. 'He put his hand on the counter, and Ginny didn't know if it was a way to show that there was no ring on his fingers, or just something casual. Anyway, she realized how all his fingers were free of any silver or gold. 'Is that you?'

'Too. My boss gave me an hour off. It doesn't happen every day. 'She smiled, shrugging.

'An asshole boss?' He raised his eyebrow, leaning on the counter too, now a little closer to her, but without touching her.

'Sometimes.' She joked.

Now Ginny felt mortified, standing on the stairs with her shoes in hand, her hair in a messy and badly done bun, and probably still with makeup traces on her face. Besides that bite mark on her neck. She was taking the walk of shame in front of her boss. The boss that she said was an asshole - sometimes - last night.

She had fucked with her boss's son! Merlin, how stupid she had been to overlook the similarities.

Standing now, looking at Mr. Potter, Harry was an identical copy of him, only a few years younger, and his eyes, of course, that were green. But still, she couldn't even believe it.

Ginny looked like a bitch in front of her boss.

'Good morning.' It was he who said it first, his eyes wide, seeming to try at all costs to remain in her face. Ginny suddenly felt almost naked, thinking about how that shirt was low-cut.

'Good morning, Mr Potter,' she replied, startled, holding tightly to the wooden railing, thinking about how Harry had pressed her there, almost fucking her on the stairs. Ginny swallowed.

The man just nodded, walking hurriedly into the kitchen, his cheeks flushed and avoiding looking at her as much as possible. Ginny ran out of the house as fast as she could, not even waiting to see if he was going to ask her out for breakfast. Merlin, she would see you at work in less than an hour!

Ginny apparated to her home, safe and without a boss catching her leaving his son's room, after having sex with the hottest man she had ever met. By Merlin's underpants, she was lost.

[...]

The atmosphere between the two was completely tense, Ginny and James barely met each other's eyes, or talked in general, she remained at her desk working with the papers they were carrying out, while Mr. Potter remained in his own office, calling her rarely .

Her career was ruined.

Mr. Potter would never refer her to any job again, and maybe he would trade her for the idiot Elliot. Elliot did not have sex with his son and sneaked out the next morning.

It wasn't hidden at least, she needed to work and Harry was sleeping, she left a note saying that.

'Miss. Weasley, come here please.' He called her, as he usually did, but now it seemed that all of her teachings about never letting your opponent realize that you were scared, had gone down the drain. Ginny could already taste the dismissal.

‘Yes, Mr. Potter?’ Ginny stopped at his office door, her knees trembling behind her pants, her hands sweating.

‘Please come in and close the door.’ She would be fired, or changed. Elliot the idiot was going to win the job she had worked so hard to get. She would never be a well-qualified Auror now, she would remain working only as a watchman for the rest of her life. Forget about promotions, trips to specializations, forget about even missions in the field, she would stay locked up in the office forever, visiting only the old women who always thought they had seen something.

All this because she wanted to have sex with a hot guy.

‘About today earlier-’

'I'm sorry, Mr. Potter.' Ginny interrupted him. ‘I didn’t want it to happen, if I had known-’

'I think if you want to apologize, it will have to be for my son and not for me.' James smiled, his cheeks slightly flushed. He took off his glasses to clean them, but Ginny thought it was an excuse for not having to look her in the eye. ‘About today earlier, I don’t think either of us wants to argue about or keep reminiscing about the event. Maybe we should just forget that we saw each other, and go on with life like that ... I think Harry was a little ... er ... worried about not seeing you for breakfast, but I didn't say anything to him. I would, of course, invite you to join us, but when I came back you were already gone...'

'Thank you.' Ginny sighed. ‘What happened in the morning?’

'That is why I chose you as my pupil, Miss. Weasley.' James also sighed, adjusting his glasses on his face. 'But I must tell you that Harry is coming to have lunch with me. If you want to .. I don’t know, leave early for lunch… I don’t know how your relationship with my son is… ’

'It's okay.' She tried not to remember that she had spoken badly about her boss to Harry. Harry's father. ‘Thank you, Mr. Potter, again.’

'You're welcome.'

Ginny didn't want to prove that she was a coward running away from Harry, or to make Mr. Potter think she had any reason to run away from him. So Ginny stayed, stomping her feet anxiously and trying to concentrate on the paperwork in front of her, arranging everything in folders and in alphabetical order, handing out some papers over the tables of the other Aurors who didn't even seem to notice her nervousness, all too busy.

When the big clock struck midday and the elevator opened on their floor, Ginny felt her blood run cold, hearing footsteps approaching and people looking more excited about whoever had entered. Her hand was shaking like a beginner's, trying to detach the sheet.

‘Ginny?’ Her voice called out to him, softly, as if he didn’t want people to look at her. She thanks. 'You work here?'

'Oh, hello Harry.' Ginny finally looked at him, dropping the scrolls and keeping her hands in her lap, watching the boy in front of her. In the daylight he looked even more handsome, messy and dark hair that she remembered to be soft and smelling, a stubble that had pinched her skin in a good way, mesmerizing green eyes, a pink mouth that had done a lot of wonders with her ... The man was a God, looking beautiful even in jeans torn at the knees, a black T-shirt and boots. The cover was open, but Ginny did not fail to notice that the fabric appeared to be of the best quality, held by a single buttercup near his neck. 'Yes.'

'Why didn't you tell me?' He continued to speak softly, but everyone was already starting to turn their necks to try to understand what the hell the chief's son was doing standing at poor Ginny's table.

Now that there was enough light and there was no alcohol running through her body, she thought it was obvious that Harry was James' son. She had been so silly.

‘I didn’t think it was important.’

'Oh, I see you guys met.' Mr Potter interrupted them, which Ginny would thank him later, his hand on his son's shoulder, looking at Ginny and then at Harry, who had a confused look on his face. 'Harry, let's have lunch and let Miss. Weasley can too, we don't want the woman to miss her time, do we?' The squeezing on his son's shoulder seemed to make the man wake up, and like his father, Harry smiled.

'Right. It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss. Weasley. Have a nice day.'

[...]

When Ginny left work, it was as if a giant was coming off her shoulders, and she felt more tired than usual because of the tension. After lunch, the other Aurors did not seem to have swallowed the story that Harry and Ginny had first met that morning, and of course she overheard some guys saying that it was how she got the job of pupil.

Great, she thought, it was all I wanted.

Ignore the years of studying, the sleepless nights, the exhausting post-workout where she cried in the bath, the times she thought about giving up - and almost did - but was stopped by her brothers or her parents, and all those tiring missions that James seemed to do just to exhaust the Aurors and see who could still stand.

Forget all that, she got the job after swallowing the boss's son's dick.

Ginny quickened her pace, angry as never before, feeling that she needed to get home, take a shower, and do something to de-stress.

‘Hey!’ A voice called from behind her, and because of all the tension surrounding her and the training, Ginny squeezed her wand around her waist. 'Can we talk?' A slightly sweaty, pink-cheeked Harry stopped in front of her. He didn't even seem to be feeling the icy weather of March, wearing only sweatpants and a jacket, carrying a bag with him.

'What do you want to talk about?' She pressed the cloak against herself, feeling a little shiver, but maybe it was not about the cold but about the fact that the man looked even hot that way.

'Wow, you don't have to be defensive, I'm not here to fight.' He held up his hands. 'Do you want to go somewhere else? Maybe have a coffee? ’

Ginny knew inside that she shouldn't accept, not after knowing how he felt inside her, on top of her, kissing her body, sucking and licking certain parts, how he moaned her name and held her against him when he came, as if he wanted to be sure that she would feel what she did to him.

It was not a safe plan, it was a suicide mission.

'Of course, it will be better,' she said, ignoring all the warnings that it would not end well. Harry smiled, picking up the backpack he had placed on the floor and walking beside her, in silence.

His scent seemed to fill all around her, and Ginny had to work hard not to show that it was affecting her.

They didn't take long to arrive at the coffee shop, it was close by and Ginny's favorite to eat after a stressful day. All the meals were delicious, a warmth in the heart after a bad time. The decor was cheerful, in contrast to the gray London, the walls were colorful, the tables a cream color with flower pots in the middle, and it was as if winter or bad weather never arrived inside that environment. It was always summer there. The owner, Mrs. Rodrigues, was a friendly and adorable Brazilian, always smiling and talking to whoever came in.

'Hello, Miss Weasley, how are we on that gray afternoon?' The woman asked, with an accent that said she was not from there.

'Now, better than before.' Ginny smiled. ‘Just smelling your carrot cake, I’m already happy.’

'No, dear, don't say that or I will get used to it.' Mrs. Rodrigues blushed, and then smiled at Harry beside Ginny, fixing the white cap on her voluminous hair. ‘What will the two want today?’

'The carrot cake and the Pão de Queijo basket, please.' Ginny asked.

'A coffee, and ... the carrot cake too,' Harry said.

Mrs. Rodrigues wrote down and smiled at both of them, indicating an empty table further down, near the window and the various flowers that Ginny still did not know how she did to keep them alive, and the two went there, in silence, with only the Brazilian music playing in a pleasant volume filling the lack of conversation between them, the voice of some couples and teenagers was mixed by the environment.

'I didn't know you were my boss's son, I have to say that.' Ginny broke the silence first, looking at Harry in front of her, anxious hands playing with the flower pot on the table.

'If you knew...?' Harry seemed nervous for the answer, arms crossed on the table, green eyes fixed on her, waiting for Ginny to say what he should already know.

‘We wouldn’t have gone out together.’ She smiled sadly. 'You understand why, right? I mean, your dad is my boss, he wouldn’t see it in a good way, and my coworkers would think, in fact they already think, that I used this to get to be where I am.’

‘If you want to know, my dad has been trying to get me out with you since he met you.’ Harry said as if talking about the weather, shrugging and smiling, never diverting her attention. ‘I think he was just surprised that he didn’t know you were there, maybe he expected me to say that I went out with you or that someone would tell him, to see you there in the morning, it was something he didn’t expect.’

‘Did you know who I was at the bar?’

'No! No, I didn't know who you were. He was talking about his pupil, and all your qualities as an auror, and seriously, I don't think I've ever seen him speak so well of one of his young aurors.' Ginny wouldn't express, of course, but she felt a little of pride inside her, thinking of the times that Mr Potter put her into more rigid training than the others, just because "she learned faster than the others." He really believed in her potential! Take that, Elliot. ‘Mum thinks I'm dating you, after she heard you were there… She was a little upset that you ran away.’

'I didn't run away,' Ginny defended herself, laughing softly when she saw Harry laugh, imagining that she should be blushing like never before.'I needed to come to work, and I met my boss at the house of the guy I had sex with, there was no way I could stay for coffee.'

'You could.' Harry shrugged. 'Sorry I didn't warn you about my parents, it never happened before, and I was a little too busy.' He blinked, in the way that made Ginny feel like jelly, the slightly arched black eyebrow and the little smile that did it all seem a little too erotic for that afternoon. He didn't even seem to be trying to do that.

'What did not happen? You taking one of your father's Aurors to your home?' She joked, just to dissipate that heat that took over her body, and to remind her of who she was talking to. Son of your boss, son of your boss, son of your boss, Ginny repeated in her mind.

'That too, but I say about taking girls, in general, at home.' Harry licked his lips when the waiter brought their orders, smiling at both of them and apologizing for interrupting the conversation, placing the basket of Pão de Queijo in the middle of the table for the two, and the piece of cake in front of each other, in addition to Harry's coffee.

Ginny's stomach rumbled when she saw the delicious warm and fragrant Pão de Queijo, together with the delicious smell of carrot cake and brigadeiro, she even felt a little less nervous now that she had something else to pay attention to, other than the mesmerizing eyes from Harry.

None of them spoke much after they started eating, other than the moans of satisfaction they shared as soon as they ate the first pão de queijo, focused only on eating that delicious delicacy and letting the music take over their thoughts, as if it were normal for Harry and her shared a table in the afternoon, eating together and being used to the moment.

It was so simple to be with him, so familiar, that it scared Ginny a little bit, whenever she stopped to analyze.

'I feel like you're not going to accept that I ask you out, now that I know about your concern for your co-workers?' Harry asked, pulling the plate of cake closer and picking up a piece, looking focused on just looking at the slice, instead of for Ginny, and she missed his eyes on her.

'It's complicated,' she admitted, looking at her own slice. 'There are not many women in the Auror Department and they already think that I managed to be where I am, just because I did something for your father, and not because I deserved it and worked hard. You understand? It’s a little more difficult for us women to inhabit predominantly male places.’

'I understand.' Harry looked at her, and he didn't seem upset that she denied his request, he seemed upset about the reason that made her do this. 'But you know that you cannot live, listening and taking what they say about you as truth, you know? I'm not saying that for you to go out with me, it’s not that, it's just because ... Everything my father says about you, made me understand that he chose you because you were good, very good, in what you did. You know you are, and how you made it this far, is not what others will say that will change that. They don’t know anything.’

[...]

The days passed faster than Ginny expected, after the meeting with Harry, the hours were confused between studying for the test that would take place at the end of the month and working, Mr Potter did not comment on his son, and Harry did not appear for more. there too. Now that she was paying attention, Ginny noticed that there was a picture of the boy in the chief's office, Harry, a child, teenager, and adult, wearing the Arrows' uniform.

He also started to appear in the newspaper, now that he had officially joined the team, and it wasn't just a reserve, so Ginny ended up seeing him during breakfast, stamping the sports column.

She also saw him at night, before going to sleep, when they were calling to talk in the mirror, the two tired, telling about what the day had been like. She said she couldn't accept going out with him, not being a friend.

Although she thought things that friends did not think about each other, and sometimes Harry flirted with her, without much pretension, seeming to just do it naturally.

‘You’ve got to stop doing that’ He said, biting his lower lip as if he wanted to hold himself back from laughing, lying shirtless while talking to her, who was putting the books in the drawer, getting ready to go to bed.

'Doing what?' Ginny asked, taking the mirror from the dresser and going to the bed, leaving the candle light still on so he could see it.

‘Saying things that make me wanna kiss you’

'Harry ...' Ginny warned him, blushing like a tomato, only to hear him laugh and blink those beautiful green eyes towards her.

"I'm not doing anything, besides, your exams are next week, which means I'm almost close to being able to take you on a real date." They had agreed this, in fact, it was Ginny who brought it up. a week after the James incident, just because she started thinking hard about how good that night had been, and how much better it would be if there was no alcohol in her blood and she didn't have to face the boss the next morning, before she even brushed the teeth.

After she took the test, they could leave, but still, it was very public until the result came out. Ginny didn't want anyone to doubt her ability, nor did the fact that dating Harry influence James' thinking.

'But then, there is still a week to go.' She reminded him.

'How are you feeling?'

'Anxious,' she admitted, thinking again about how easy it was to open up to Harry. 'How was the training today?' He moved, the noise of the sheets making her think things inappropriate for that moment.

'Tiring, I have pain in my thighs.' Harry made a lovely face, his nose slightly wrinkled.

'Poor thing about you.' Ginny tuned her voice as if she were talking to a baby, which made the man laugh, something that always made Ginny have her ego boosted a thousand times.

Harry looked cute laughing.

'You could come here and help me, I know that Aurors know how to do very good healing spells.' He blinked, and this time it was Ginny who laughed.

'Shut up. Good night, Harry. 'Ginny felt and saw that her cheeks got even hotter, but Harry didn't seem affected, he seemed to approve of that.

'Good night, Weasley ... One week, I'm counting.' He smiled, and something inside her trembled in excitement and excitement so that the week would pass soon.

'I know you do, Potter. Bye. ’

#hinny #hinny ficfest #jily lives #no choosen one #no voldemort #harry x ginny #hinny AU #ginny is a badass auror #harry is a quidditch player #harry and ginny

[angeli-marco-writes]

∘◦  ღ  ◦∘  Harrison Osterfield - Quarantine  ∘◦  ღ  ◦∘

A/N - I wrote this during the first lockdown that Britain were in. ow we’re in the third, and almost a year later, I’m uploading this onto my Tumblr from my Wattpad. And yes, before everyone says it, I am fully aware that the Holland’s and Haz were isolating in two different houses and haven’t been living together for months, but this makes it more amusing, and as I say, it was written a while ago. I do not know Harrison, nor do I claim to; this is a work of fiction and entirely my own. 

Warnings - cursing, smut, detailed sex, cockwarming, oral, kinky names, mentions of sleeping around... you know the drill by now.

Summary - Quarantine with a bunch of sex deprived twenty-odd year old boys isn’t your idea of fun, especially not when the only one you want refuses to pay even the slightest bit of attention. Taking measures into your own hands is only simple until you get caught.

YOU AREN’T SURE HOW, but in some strange twist of fate, you’ve ended up in self isolation with the Holland’s. But it doesn’t end there, no, not just the Holland’s, but Harrison and Tuwaine too.

You have a bed in the attic, the other side of Harrison’s room, but you’re hardly sleeping in it. Seeing as you’re the only girl among an entire collection of (ahem, horny) and barely adult boys, you were most certainly on their beckon call. You didn’t mind being called to Sam, Harry’s, even Tom’s rooms late at night; you simply wished that you'd be asked to sleep with the one you actually wanted. Harrison.

You and he had been friends as long as you could remember, neighbours from age 4 and friends ever since. Even through uni when you studied a double major and you had zero free time, he was still constant in your life. You’d met Tom and the boys, the twins being closer to your age, and gotten on with them all as well. It just so happened that you ended up on a job with Mr Holland, and that’s what brought all of you closer together with you being in their house often to work on this project it also just so happened that you’d been hanging around with them all when lockdown was announced, leaving you to be in trouble if you drove halfway across London to your own home, so they invited you to stay and had any and all necessary items mailed to you by your roommate. You were only trusted to stay with Harrison after your history together and nothing ever having come of you two, though Mrs Holland did not trust the other boys enough with you and therefore did a bed check every night and every morning to make sure you were alone, though it was always a deceitful check on everyone’s behalf. 

You didn’t thank Tom, Sam or Harry post-sex since you’d always have to return to your own cold bed, next to a sleeping Harrison, a sleeping Harrison who wouldn’t dare use you as a booty call like the other three did. It was safe to say that Harrison also had no idea of your truancies since he slept like a light and no one would discuss your actions at the dinner table to save your dignity, and their own necks.

Tonight though, you have other plans. Harrison has some papers to look through and will therefore be sitting at his desk, procrastinating before his computer for hours, only to be left to flick through the contract at an utterly ungodly hour, and he’d proceed to sleep tomorrow, all throughout the day. You were going to help him relax: maybe a massage, a cuddle, a blunt. Or you’d sit on his lap, watch to see whether he’d tense or relax beneath your bare legs, or whether he’d pick up on whose shirt you were to wear. That was the only tell: you’d steal a shirt from each brother to wear as a mark the next day, but you’d simply claim they were more comfortable than your own tight fitting button downs and crop tops. Harrison hadn’t noticed, not yet though as far as you knew, but each brother wore a slight smirk every day that you wore their shirt.

It hurt that Harrison wouldn’t be able to tell with his usual obliviousness, but you’d shower before seeing to him tonight, and wear one of his shirts so that when he got it back it might smell like you, a scent he claimed to enjoy.

As soon as dinner finishes, you leap away from the three boys all vying for your attention.

“I have work to do, and a shower to have. Plus, I’m tired.” You respond to all three on your journey up the stairs, hearing Harrison groan very loudly from the attic, followed by his head hitting the keyboard of his laptop. You smile sadly to yourself, a mix of nervous anticipation and excitement expelling from your body while the water lashes at your skin, soothing any pain or fear you may be feeling. You increase the heat, allowing the steam to fill your pores as you lean your head forwards to keep your hair dry, held in a messy bun.

You imagine his touch all over your bare body, his finger tracing your jaw, but a knock on the door and a yell to hurry up snaps you from your trance, making you turn off the water and wrap a soft towel (that you know to be Harrison’s) around yourself. You scowl at Harry on your way out, in response to which he sticks his tongue out childishly. 

You end up mostly dry after taking a longer than usual walk up the steps to the attic, lingering on each one until the balls of your feet become sore. You peek your head around the door, only to see Harrison in a hoodie and boxers, a grimace on his lips while attacking his keyboard with a ferocity that you’ve scarcely seen. His anger causes you to furrow your brows, silently wishing that you succeed in calming him instead of making him feel worse. 

You slip into a pair of panties and grab your favourite of his shirts off one of the hangers. You pull out your phone under a guise if he spots you, absentmindedly scrolling through your feed while eyeing Harrison. He slows his typing and begins clicking his mouse at the screen slowly, intently reading the reams of white on his laptop. 

It’s time, you tell yourself, standing up from the bed and walking behind him. You place your hands on his shoulders, splaying your fingers and digging your thumbs in. Harrison’s body goes lax, his hands falling from the laptop to the desk, laying his hands flat on the wood. He lets out a groan and rolls his head back, falling right onto the pillow of your chest. You continue to rub his shoulders, enjoying the way he’s slowly relaxing under your therapeutic touch, that is until he swats you away with a small, sad smile. You sigh, having none of it, and crawl your hands down to the hem of his hoodie.

“What are you doing?” He asks, his tone dripping with boredom. “I have this contract to read, you know I do.”

“Exactly.” You reply after thinking for a moment. You want to say the right thing, you want this to go seamlessly, so every word has to be perfect, not to mention every action.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t battle against your bid to remove his hoodie, and obligingly lifts his arms up over his head so that you can pull his jumper off. You toss it to the side and hear something fall to the floor, but that’s somehow the least of your concerns. You reward Harrison with a kiss to the soft, unblemished skin of his neck - but it won’t stay that way, not for much longer. 

You thread your fingers into his beautiful brown locks and tug a little, just to let him know that you mean business. His lips part as though intending to let out a groan of some kind, but it doesn’t come, so with disappointment you continue to play with his hair the way you love to. He doesn’t stop you, so that’s something, right?

When he hasn’t given you attention for too long, albeit about five minutes, you walk around in front of him. His eyes are forced to retrain from his screen to where your breasts show in his top. Apparently, going braless in one of his tops has its perks, not talking about your nipples.

“Looks good on you,” he murmurs. He pushes his chair out and gestures for you to drape yourself over his legs and lap, which you do more than willingly while wrapping your arms around his neck and tugging at the wonderfully soft curls at the nape.

“I know this isn’t ideal, you need to do proper work and be having contact with your girls, but I’ll get you out soon, I know the boys are a lot.”

You simply hum in acknowledgement, adjusting your seat on his bare legs. Skin on skin, electrifying in every sense of the word. 

“That is why you’re doing this, right?” He asks, nervously almost, and you instantly feel as though you’re molesting him, until he wraps his strong arms around your back. You could moan at the contact, his muscles tensing all around you, the feel of Harrison and his smell radiating around you, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

You move your hands to his shoulders and begin to massage again, just from the front this time, a feeble attempt to procrastinate against your goal. Harrison’s gone back to reading his screen, so while he’s still gathering what he’s reading, it’s your only shot.

You twist on his lap until you’re completely straddling him, your forehead pressed to his. The beautiful blue-green of his eyes sends you into a trance, melting your insides. You can swear that you see him nod a little, so you begin to move your hips. You grind and swirl on his lap, undulating your hips in a perfect figure of eight when you feel him harden beneath you.

With your ministrations paused momentarily, you take a sharp intake of breath and say, “This was never about attention because I’ve been stuck with the boys, this is because I want you.”

Harrison’s face instantly melts into an expression of relief, a goofy smile on his (what you hope to be) soft lips.

“I thought you didn’t want me because you were sleeping with the others,” he says, and you shake your head, tears of relief and happiness almost spilling from your eyes. You feel warm and fuzzy despite the guilt, shame and anger bubbling from your truancies with the Holland boys. 

“You knew then?”

“How couldn’t I?” He remarks, “you’re all they talk about when there’s no adults and no Paddy in the room. What they did to you, how many times they made you cry out their names, the marks they tried to leave on you until your own dominant side came out. Every conversation I had to excuse myself out of mainly respect from you, because what they said upset me but I just couldn’t say so, but then I just came up here and imagined what you’d be doing to me.” Your heart hitches in your throat, butterflies filling your stomach and travelling into your every limb, making your skin tingle. Your stomach rises in goosebumps, as does the skin of your thighs, and you notice that it’s because Harrison has his hands underneath your (his) shirt, and he’s skimming over your waist and legs, holding you and savouring the feel of your skin beneath him. He kisses your neck, once, twice, and it’s gone.

He turns back to his computer and continues his work, looking over your shoulder and letting his eyes train every tiny black line of script on his screen. Your neediness is at an all time high, one hand resting absently on your hip, just above your bum while his other hand clicks at his keyboard and mouse like it’s second nature. The speed of his fingers makes you even needier, craving for him to be inside you already, so you climb onto his bare thigh and trap it between your own. 

You dig your hips down into his leg, grinding and aching for friction, and you already know that you’re dripping onto his skin. The fine hair on his thighs gives a delicious amount of friction - not too much but not too little. As you go further, your mouth parts a little more, allowing you to let out a strangled whimper. Your thigh brushes Harrison’s cock through his boxers, and you feel his hand grip your waist tighter, almost painfully.

Your pussy starts throbbing, aching for more of him, while your hands rake his back, leaving scratch marks in their wake. Your head falls to the crook of Harrison’s neck as you approach your high, moving your hips more fervently and letting out moans is anticipation. You wonder if Harrison is even able to pay attention to his contract anymore with what you’re doing to him, but that thought is set to rest when you’re right on the edge, but both of his hands grip your hips and move you off his thigh, the skin glistening with your essence. 

For a minute, you think he’ll be angry, make you clean it up, but instead he just kisses you. His lips catch yours more desperately than you could’ve dreamt, immediately biting down on your lower lip, trapped inside his mouth. You let out the loudest moan you could in the moment, but Harrison finds it heavenly, delving his tongue into your mouth to deepen the kiss while his hands grip your ass. He pulls away, looking at you with those puppy eyes that he knows you can’t resist. 

“Sit on my cock? Just ‘til I finish this section, then I’ll take you as hard as you want.” 

You look sceptical, and Harrison can tell, you know because he kissed you again and moves his hands from your bum to wrap his arms around your whole body and keep you close to him. His lips pressed against your own is enough convincing, so you move your panties aside and accommodate while Harrison takes his boxers off.

When he does, you’re surprised at how big he is, bigger than any of the lads you’ve been with before. Long and substantial, you want to drool just looking at his dick standing proud against his stomach. Nervously, you slide down on him. His girth stretches your every wall and his tip hits new spots until finally you’re balls deep. He groans and exhales, eyes closed while trying to gather his bearings. 

“Fuck.” He says. “Your cunt bottomed out on my cock, keeping me warm and hard, you’re an angel.”

His words drive you crazy, making you moan and involuntarily clench around him, but he doesn’t seem to mind. You wrap yourself around him like a koala bear, craving to have as much skin to skin contact as is possible. Your head lays on his chest to stay out of his way, and he seems thankful to be able to see the screen but also feel you. 

You stay seated on Harrison for no more than ten minutes as he taps away at his keyboard and scrolls through the pages. Occasionally he moves, stimulating you enough for you to gasp or tighten around him, and in those instances he kisses behind your ear. 

You listen to his heart, slowing or increasing its speed depending on your movements. The steady heave of his chest moving with his breathing is strangely calming, making you feel closer to him, more stimulated and comforted, something like love.

Suddenly, his laptop slams shut and he thrusts up into you. You yelp a little and snap your head up, nose nudging with his and your lips grazing. 

“You’ve been driving me crazy, and you’ve done it on purpose. Were you sleeping with the others to get my attention? Am I better than them already? Bigger?” You whimper, his words building a fire inside you. “You don’t have to answer, love, I can already tell by your body.”

You cling to him even tighter than before as he clears everything off his desk, breaking a pencil pot while he’s at it, and you can’t help but chuckle.

“You choose a desk to fuck me on when we have two beds up here, both of which will make a lot less noise?” 

He looks downcast and releases a giggle. “Yeah, didn’t think of that.”

“It’s fine,” you say, cupping his jaw and caressing his stubbled cheek, “you can fuck me harder on this and let the boys know who I belong to tonight.”

He places you down beneath him on the desk, still hard inside you, but instead of attacking you again in a ferocious kiss, he looks down at you and marvels in your beauty just for a moment, his scrutiny surprisingly doesn’t phase you, it only makes you feel treasured, so as your eyes follow the movements of his rippling muscles, he smiles faintly and kisses you softly. 

“Fuck me Haz,” you whisper, those simple words being all the motivation needed, because he pulls out, leaving you whining at the emptiness of only his twitching tip inside your core, but within seconds he pushes all the way back in. 

He feels heavenly, your eyes rolling back into your head and a surprised moan leaving your lips. He smiles down at you before pulling out and thrusting back inside you, setting a steady pace. Every move feels like paradise, every jolt of his hips swindling shockwaves of pleasure through your craving body, having been desperate for him for a good while.

He feels heavenly inside you, his tip grazing that special spot inside you. “Harrison!” You cry, as quietly as you can. He leans down and pulls the neck of your (his) shirt down so that he can get access to your breast, immediately latching his lips onto your nipple, biting at it viciously while pressing his hands onto your spread thighs. You feel yourself approaching an edge, a timed coil curling inside your stomach as his ministrations continue. 

He’s so much better than the others - not that they weren’t good, they have a basic idea of what to do with you and how to use you, and they’re decently sized, but they can’t make you feel the way Harrison can. 

“I’m close...” you whisper between incoherent murmurs. He’s not too noisy, which may or may not be a blessing paired with the slamming and squeaking of the desk beneath your bodies, it’s mostly just breathy grunts and occasional curses.

“Me too, beautiful.” He dances his forefinger up your thigh and rubs circles around your wetness, allowing you to let go.

The coil within springs open, and you feel your body fall loose, vision blurring with stars in your eyes and core clenching around Harrison - it feels like heaven. Feeling this, he climaxes soon after you and to save from screaming, kisses you in a messy fight of teeth and tongues, half muffling the pornographic moans that would otherwise be bound to spill.

Harrison falls down onto you, chest heaving and breathless, but nonetheless he still places open mouthed kisses to your neck.

“I’ll wait for you to get your breath, shall I?” You tease while running your finger up and down his spine. He chuckles and climbs fully on top of you, cuddling you into his chest. “Well, now I can see why you don’t have a girlfriend yet. Can’t even go for one round without ending up flustered. Lucky that I’ll have you no matter.”

He hums into you, holding you and savouring the silence filled with only your breathing and a few sounds from downstairs, but soon the wood becomes too uncomfortable.

Harrison slips an arm beneath you and carries you across the room to his unmade bed, as opposed to your neatly tucked in one with your entire collection of clothes and makeup on top of the sheets, but his bed is probably comfier since he’s always in it. 

“Round two?”

Your heart rate increases, a burning blush rising to the tips of your ears as well as a shy smile snaking its way across your lips, still swollen from Harrison’s attack, not to mention the swollen parts of your skin where he paid a little more attention, leaving marks and memories for days to come.

“I’d like to see you try.” You tease, keeping your cool resolve despite feeling anxious straddling him, his eyes flitting between your chest, eyes and lips, unsure of what to do or how to use his mouth, a definite rarity for someone like him.

He seems desperate, putting his hands on your hips and thirstily jolting his hips upwards - if you’d been a few inches further down, he would’ve been straight back inside you, and maybe that’s what he was hoping for.

“Any hole’s a goal, isn’t that what Tom says?” 

He loves it when you tease him, that much you’re learnt over the years. Every girl he’s been with you’ve found a way to tease him about it, anything he says, anything he does, and he loves it since it usually ends in a play fight and him surrendering control of the tv remote to you. This time however, it ends in something far different.

He tugs the shirt up further and pulls you roughly so that your calves are either side of his neck, your once again dripping core hovering above his face and awaiting tongue. 

“Only if it’s yours.” He says, his breath sending shockwaves through your body straight from your core.

His tongue deftly finds its way through your folds and inside your tensing cavern, and it feels heavenly. His nose nudges at your clit while his tongue laps up all around you, his lips working in tandem while his tongue dances inside you. The moans leaving your mouth are otherworldly noises that you’ve never quite made before, maybe because you’ve never sat on anyone’s face, never mind someone as experienced as Harrison, something that you’re now learning is far from a bad thing. 

“Harrison!” You cry when he delves a little deeper. His eyes remain between your own and the way your boobs bounce inside his shirt while you squirm on top of him. Every noise the pair of you make masks the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs to the attic, and muffle the sound of knocking on the door.

Harrison’s mouth continues its assault on your needy heat, your one hand weaving into his hair while the other massages your breast through your shirt, bringing stimulation to your nipple and bringing your climax closer and closer...

“Haz, we get that you hate work but you really don’t have to make so much noise- OH MY FUCKING GOD!”

You freeze, your recently shut eyes shooting open and darting over to the door, ajar with Tom standing just over the threshold, staring right at the two of you with a face of horror and disgust. Harrison however, bites down on your sensitive nub in his state of shock, and your second orgasm washes over you in such a state of unexpected euphoria that you lose all your bearings. 

You cry out Harrison’s name like a prayer, chanting it while he cleans you up, and it’s not for a solid minute after your climax ends that you realise Tom is still in the room with you, rendered speechless, mouth agape and dumbfounded. 

When you clock what’s happening, you grasp Harrison’s duvet and yank it up to cover you both while you climb off Harrison’s face, his lips still glistening with your cum. He seems lost for words, too, blanching more and more with every passing second. He gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. No one moves, except for Harrison’s cock twitching under the duvet.

“It’s not what it looks like...” you say, your words getting lost in the thick tension of the room, like a rubber band pulled so tightly that it could snap at any given moment.

“Really? Because it looks like Harrison was just eating you out!”

You can’t fault Tom's logic, it is exactly what it looks like, so you just blush and pull the duvet up to your chin while wishing for a black hole to swallow you up. 

You can’t help but notice how beautiful Harrison looks though, plump lips and that wonderful glint in his eyes, messy hair and no top. 

“Ok, so it’s exactly what it looks like, surprise?” You can’t figure out what to say to him in the current situation, but instantly feel relaxed when Harrison begins to rub his palm up and down your thigh beneath the duvet .

“What- oh, this is why you called?” Sam now makes an appearance, folding his arms and standing next to a resolute Tom. You can’t decipher if he’s angry, amused or something else. “Our plan worked!” He suddenly shouts, and within seconds, Harry arrives beside the pair, a smirk on his lips.

“Really? So shagging Y/N and talking about it in front of me was all a ploy to get us together? And if so, why does Mr Fancy Pants here look so angry?” Harrison asks, and you can feel him willing his boner to wilt while in the presence of the brothers.

“Yes!” Comes paddy’s voice from the doorway, swiftly standing in front of Tom. 

You smirk, but Harrison scowls, unable to accommodate this situation within his mind.

“He’s probably shocked because he walked in on you two... you know. But yeah, it was all a plan, sorry by the way.” Harry says, you just wave it off but Harrison’s grip on your leg tightens.

“Don’t be angry, it worked didn’t it?” Sam chimes in, patting Paddy on the back before making his way out.

Tom has to have the last word, you can see it on the settling lines on his forehead, so you brace yourself closer to Haz. “And don’t I bloody know that it worked!”

Maybe the drama was worth it for the laugh out of Tom’s reaction, though Harrison would argue with you there.

#harrison osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield #haz osterfield #tom holland #tom holland imagine #haz osterfield smut #haz osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield smut #Simon and mark #Tom and haz #holland boys

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***

The Catalyst

December 2009

During her fourth and final year at Townbridge, Nora is hardened. She spent her summer reviewing her college applications in between shifts at the beach, picking through each individual essay and making sure her grades were the highest they could be.

Nora was sick of small towns. Newport would always be home, but with growing up comes the all-encompassing need to find a new home somewhere else—which was why Nora was applying for schools in New York City. A place where she can start over without the stinging burn of high school rumors following her every step.

Luckily, Nora still had Lydia and Margot and a few other girls on the swim team, and that was all she really needed at the start of her final year. She didn’t even look at Harry and his friends in the hallways, and whenever they would snicker behind her back or approach her if they were feeling bold, Nora would just spin on her heel and completely ignore them, similar to the way they treated her at the beginning of her first year. And when she would share a classroom with Harry for their AP classes, she would make sure to sit in the back corner of the room where she couldn’t feel his lingering gaze on her frame.

On her eighteenth birthday, Lydia and a few girls took Nora out to dinner at Margot’s family’s restaurant on the water in East Lyme. They paid for her meal and took pictures out on the docks by the ocean and it was the happiest Nora had felt all year at Townbridge.

Nora was riding that high all the way up until Christmas break where she was actually excited to go home and spend the Holidays with her mother. But just like most things in her life, Nora’s high came crashing down when her mother informed her that she couldn’t come home for break, leaving her to spend her ten-day vacation away from school completely alone in the empty halls of Townbridge.

“I’m so sorry, Nora. Mrs. Clemonte is really sick and Warren is already on his way to Aspen with Willy. I can’t just leave her alone! Especially during Christmastime. Please don’t hate me,” her mother grievously said through the speaker of Nora’s brand new LG Rumor cell phone.

“I could never hate you, mom,” Nora replied honestly, curled up in her comforter on her twin bed on the eve before her mother was meant to pick her up from school.

“You’ll be okay though, right? Other students will be staying on campus with you?” Nora could sense her mother’s worry from over one hundred miles away, and before Shannon could hear her daughter sniffling through the phone, Nora took a deep breath and convinced her that she’ll be fine—even if she wasn’t completely sure of it herself.

In all honesty, Nora wasn’t even certain if any students stayed on campus during break, considering her classmates usually booked trips to Aspen or Vail or the fucking Swiss Alps for all she knows. So after confirming with her guidance counselor that the facilities will be open and she’ll be safe to walk around the practically barren campus, Nora’s shocked that the first person she runs into is none other than Harry Styles.

Nora had to blink a few times in the entryway of the dining hall to make sure that the figure hunched over the wooden table sipping a porcelain cup of tea and shoveling scrambled eggs into his mouth was actually him. But when she squints and takes into account his discernible curly locks, his signature black trench coat, and his cotton grey soccer sweatshirt with his last name embroidered on the front layered underneath—there’s no denying that it’s him.

She looks around and notices that there are a few other students scattered about, eating their breakfast wearing thick sweatshirts and conversing amongst themselves. Before she can be detected, Nora buries her chin in her thick knitted scarf and walks around the edges of the room towards the kitchen to grab her own helping of eggs and pancakes.

Nora’s gotten quite good at keeping a low profile, so when she finds an empty seat in the corner of the room, completely far away from Harry’s slumped figure, she lets herself breathe for the first time. She unwraps her maroon scarf and unbuttons her navy parka before digging into her breakfast, flipping through her battered copy of The Princess Bride. Every year, Nora rereads her favorite books that were turned into films, and she figured now was as good a time as any to pick up where she left off.

Halfway through her breakfast, Nora realizes a moment too late that she picked the seat that’s closest to the tea and coffee station when she hears her name gruffly fall past Harry’s lips as he stands over her, a completely shocked look on his face.

“Nora?” Harry repeats after a minute has passed with the two of them just staring at each other, wondering what in the hell the other is doing spending their winter break at school all alone.

“Hi,” Nora says awkwardly, avoiding Harry’s gaze and choosing instead to look at the rolled-up paperback sticking out of his jacket pocket. She can’t quite make out the title of the book from her position, but the light blue coloring of the title page is familiar to her for some odd reason.

“What are you…” His words fall from his mouth without any clear purpose. She realizes then and there that the last words she spoke to him were a broken “fuck you” one year ago in Dr. Forrester’s AP Chem lab, and that thought is enough to cause her to stand up abruptly from the wooden bench, grabbing her tray in one hand and her parka in the other, trying her hardest to get out from under Harry’s intense gaze.

“Wait, Nora!” Harry calls after her as she scrambles towards the trash bin to clear her half-eaten plate. She ignores him, the need to get away from him much stronger than her urge to stick around and hear what he has to say to her. And before she knows it, she’s running through the snowy campus with her parka barely buttoned, recognizing a moment too late that she left her maroon scarf on the table in the dining hall in her mad sprint to the exit.

For two days, Nora skips out on breakfast—too terrified to run into Harry again. She eats the rest of her meals by the old fireplace in Millikan Library at odd times in the day, growing far too comfortable with the eerie solitude floating through the towering ceilings.

Most of her afternoons spent in Millikan are quite peaceful, considering the foot traffic is practically nonexistent save for the two librarians working the research desk and the small handful of students searching through the fiction aisle for a new book to read to keep them preoccupied during the break. Her spot near the fireplace is hidden in plain sight, somehow giving her the perfect view of the lower floor of the library while staying comfortably concealed from wandering eyes.

Luck isn’t on her side, though, and while she’s finishing up the last quarter of The Princess Bride, her focus is broken when a familiar maroon scarf drops in the middle of her lap, obstructing Nora’s spot on the page.

When she looks up she sees Harry, dressed in familiar black jeans and a simple white t-shirt underneath his trench coat. Snowflakes dust the tips of his curly hair, and when Nora squints she can make out the purple bags underneath his dull green eyes.

“You left that in the dining hall,” he says slowly, sitting down in the chair across from the matching one Nora is currently curled up in.

“Uh, thanks,” she mutters, scrunching the thick material up and shoving it into her backpack resting on the floor below her. A crinkled Pop-Tart wrapper comes fluttering out of her bag as she attempts to zip it up, and Harry notices it instantly.

“Have you been living off of those instead of eating real food?” he asks. Nora can’t tell if he’s actually concerned or if he’s teasing her, because his eyes are still dull and his face is still blank and she can’t read Harry Styles for the life of her.

When she doesn’t answer, he states simply, “You’re avoiding me.”

“Can you blame me?” Nora responds quickly, looking at him with a layer of sadness hidden underneath her cerulean eyes.

“No, suppose I can’t.” He’s quiet for a few minutes, shifting his gaze towards the carpeted flooring below them. He looks as if he’s thinking very hard, and Nora wonders if he’s trying to figure out how to apologize to her. And when he’s still sitting there, a massive indent in the middle of his eyebrows while his lips pout downward in a frustrated frown, Nora thinks that a person like Harry has probably never had to apologize for anything in his entire life.

That realization is enough to keep her from running away from him again.

Harry lifts his eyes from the floor then, moving his gaze from Nora’s face to the book in her lap. She looks comfortable, wearing thick leggings and a woolen turtleneck, her blonde hair twisted into a low bun behind her neck, allowing her fringe to fall wildly against her forehead. He notices that her snow boots are on the floor, and her socked-clad feet are tucked underneath her thighs on the big chair she’s nestled in. For the first time in a long time—probably ever, if Harry really sits and thinks about it—he feels as if he’s looking at Nora Priestley for the first time, observing every freckle on her pale skin and every line and curve of her face. He’s not quite sure what that means entirely, but he’s sure that it has to mean something, in the grand scheme of things.

If she’s grown uncomfortable under his stare, she doesn’t show it, and Harry’s a bit grateful for that. Without really thinking about it, Harry reaches inside his jacket pocket, revealing his curled up copy of The Call of the Wild.

“D’ya mind if I sit here and read with you?” he asks quietly.

“No,” Nora says, her voice pitch wavering, “Not at all.”

What normally would take Nora less than an hour to read, ends up being much longer, because she had suddenly grown extremely distracted with Harry’s presence across from her. It first started when he took off his black trench coat, revealing a threadbare white t-shirt that didn’t seem appropriate with the falling snow outside and the frigid temperature in the air. But it wasn’t the thin material that captured Nora’s attention. Instead, it was the various etchings of black ink swirling up and down his left arm. She tries not to stare, but she honestly can’t help it, because the images of shaded roses and thick anchors and anatomically correct organs is causing her head to spin. Nora never thought that picture-perfect Harry Styles, with all his splendor and daddy’s money, would brand his skin with outrageous tattoos. But it somehow fits, and Nora finds that she suddenly wants to know what every picture means, and its significance to the boy adorning them.

She tries to bring her attention back to her book, but it’s practically no use, considering her eyes keep falling towards his, watching the way he reads the old book in his large hands. From this position with the big bay windows behind her and the light flooding through, Harry’s green eyes almost seem blue. She’s not sure if he’s aware that he’s doing it, but his fingers keep constantly picking at the dry skin on his lower lip, and if there’s nothing left to pick, his fingers just push and pull at the skin as he flips to the next page. Whenever he seems to read a particularly interesting passage, Harry’s brows furrow as he concentrates on the words bleeding off the page. And just when Nora thinks she’s gotten used to his presence, he would absentmindedly fidget in the seat, changing which leg would be crossed over the other, bringing his foot up to rest on the seat so that his elbow can lean on something new, or even moving his body completely, so that his legs fall over the arm of the chair and his head rests against the other.

And when Nora’s no longer distracted by Harry’s existence, she finds that her thoughts linger on the hundreds of questions floating through her brain. She wonders what he’s doing here, all alone during Christmas break when he spends his summers in the south of France or the Hamptons or some other luxurious location. She wonders why, of all places to read an old copy of The Call of the Wild, he chooses to sit near her, a girl he’s supposed to hate. And she especially wonders why she doesn’t mind his proximity to her body, considering he’s done nothing but hurt her since they first met.

Nora finds this entire afternoon to be distracting, and without even finishing the book (even though she acts like she has, because let’s be honest, Nora’s read The Princess Bride enough times to recite the last page), she closes it and throws it in her backpack, exchanging the paperback for her maroon scarf and beginning to lace-up her snow boots. Harry looks up from his book and notices her getting ready to leave, and without saying anything, Nora watches as he dog-ears his page and begins to pull his arms through the sleeves of his coat.

“I’m gonna head to the dining hall,” Nora explains, even though she’s not entirely sure she wants Harry to follow her. But when he stands up from the chair and slips his book into his pocket, Nora finds that she doesn’t really have a choice in the matter, other than to follow him down the stairs and out the front door into the snow.

Townbridge covered in a thick blanket of snow is quite a sight to behold, and momentarily, Nora can forget that Harry Styles is standing near her. Because the snow is falling lightly from the sky, dusting the tips of her nose and the apples of her cheeks, and she thinks it’s probably the calmest she’s felt in a very long time.

But then Harry’s elbow knocks against hers as he shoves his hands deep into his pockets, and suddenly all of the distracting thoughts and the endless questions from before come rushing from her brain to the tip of her tongue, and Nora finds that she can’t hold it in anymore.

“Why are you talking to me, Harry? Aren’t you supposed to hate me?” Nora’s words aren’t spiteful in the slightest. In fact, there’s barely any emotion behind them—just a statement that’s been at the forefront of her mind ever since he first approached her in the dining hall two days ago.

“I don’t hate you, Nora,” Harry chooses to say, looking down at her briefly as they continue the short walk to their destination.

“You certainly don’t like me,” Nora replies back, keeping her head down to avoid more snowflakes accumulating on her eyelashes.

“If this is about last year, I really am sorry. You were right to say those things to me in Dr. Forrester’s lab, I deserved it. All of it.” Nora waits a minute to speak, because she’s curious if Harry Styles will grovel in front of her, if he’ll beg for her forgiveness the way she’s dreamt about him doing for the past twelve months. He stays quiet, kicking his boot through a particularly thick segment of snow, and when Nora chances a look towards his face, she can see through his eyes that this conversation is torturing him. The dullness is tenfold, and his lips are in a very straight line and she’s never seen a jaw so clenched in her entire life. And even though he doesn’t say anything else, Nora accepts his apology, because although words have failed him (as they usually have in the past), his eyes give everything away.

The word pushover comes to mind, but Nora doesn’t think it’s a negative aspect of her personality. She was always taught to find the best in people, and if Harry’s apology consists of a handful of words and green eyes twisted in utter agony, she’ll take what she can get.

He holds the door open for her as they approach the dining hall and she gives him a quiet “thank you,” and Harry’s not sure if it’s for his chivalrous act or his bare-bones apology, but he takes it in stride. They grab chicken noodle soup and turkey sandwiches and steaming cups of tea and sit at the table near the large row of windows and for the first time, Nora doesn’t mind sitting across from him.

“So, why The Princess Bride?” Harry asks after a mouthful of soup, watching the way her mouth quirks at the mention of her favorite book.

“It’s one of my favorite movie adaptations. Movies are kind of my thing, I guess,” she explains, holding her warm cup of tea against her hands and she looks so damn cozy.

Harry nods, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“What about you?” Nora counters, watching the way his head tilts in confusion.

“What about me?” He echoes.

“Why The Call of the Wild?”

Harry grins, taking a long sip of his tea before replying, “I like classic literature. Guess it’s kind of my thing.”

Before Nora can say anything else, or tease him about copying her phrase, Miss Flaherty approaches their table with a bright grin. She’s one of the guidance counselors at Townbridge, an older woman who reminds everybody of their Nana. So when she places a hand on Harry’s shoulder and squeezes, Nora’s curiosity is piqued to the fullest.

“Harry! There you are, lovie. Will you be joining us tomorrow for the Toy Drive again? I’m sure everybody will be happy to see you.”

Sheepish has never been a word that Nora would think to associate with Harry Styles, but when his cheeks begin to flush and his eyes look anywhere but at Nora’s, she can tell that he’s nervous. And when she thinks back to Miss Flaherty’s question, more importantly, the word again, Nora’s wondering who on earth the boy sitting across from her truly is.

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” he tells her, smiling awkwardly.

“Amazing! How about you, Nora? Will you be joining us as well?” Nora’s suddenly aware of two sets of eyes on her, and when she glances at Harry and sees that his face is void of irritation, she nods her head and looks back towards Miss Flaherty.

“Of course! Count me in.”

Miss Flaherty smiles brightly and looks between the two of them happily. “Lovely! I’m sure Harry here will tell you all about it. We’ll see you tomorrow!”

After she walks away it’s quiet again, just the two of them slurping from their bowls of soups, trying to figure out how to address what just happened. Surprisingly, it’s Harry who speaks first.

“Uh, you don’t have to come if you don’t, er, want to.” He’s anxious and Nora wishes he would stop looking at the wooden table and would look at her, instead. Because she’s never given him a reason to be nervous around her, and the fact that he’s suddenly grown so small in front of her is all too confusing for her to understand.

“I don’t mind, really. Sounds cool, actually,” Nora admits, meaning every word.

Harry looks up at her then, observing her to see if there’s any teasing on her face. But when she looks back at him with nothing but a warm expression, Harry can tell that Nora actually means it, and he gives her a gentle smile in return.

Once they finish their lunch, they begin to walk back to their dorms. Nora lives on a different floor of Granary Hall and Harry lives in Quinby House, which is just across the small quarry outside of her building. It’s a comfortable silence, and Nora really wasn’t expecting him to walk her to the front door of her building. She’s not at all mad that he does, though, and when she turns towards him to say goodbye, he looks as if he’s trying to say something to her.

“I can drive you tomorrow to the Youth Center if you want. Easier than taking the bus,” Harry says, pushing his hands against the bottom of his pockets as he shuffles on the pavement in front of her, avoiding eye contact.

Nora nods, smiling softly before saying, “Sure, sounds good. Thanks, Harry.”

Before she can even mutter a goodbye, Harry’s already spinning on his boots towards Quinby House, and Nora’s left watching his figure disappear through the snow, thinking that out of the four years she’s known him, this is the most words they’ve ever spoken to one another.

Nora’s not even sure if she’s aware of it, but when she wakes up the next morning and chooses her nicest pair of jeans and applies a generous amount of mascara to her eyelashes, the idea of impressing Harry is barely even a thought in her mind. But there’s a reason for everything—and the fact that she brushed through her knotted hair and stuck her cherry-flavored lip balm into her pocket before rushing out the door, means that subconsciously she’s thinking about him.

They meet in the parking lot near his black Range Rover, and when he offers her a small smile and opens the door for her, she’s not quite sure what to think. He’s wearing his trench coat again with a grey thermal top underneath, and his curls are stuffed under a bright blue knitted beanie and he looks unbelievably warm. They don’t really talk much but they do listen to Big Star, and when “Thirteen” comes on and Nora starts to sing the words to herself, Harry snaps his head over in her direction with a wide-eyed look of astonishment.

“You listen to Big Star?” he asks, flitting his gaze between the road and Nora’s face.

She smiles, content that she’s shocked Harry, before adding, “Yeah, they’re one of my mom’s favorites.”

He nods, an impressed look on his face. “She’s got great taste.”

The rest of the ride is filled with more of Harry’s musical repertoire to which Nora sings along to the songs she knows. And if she listens close enough, she can hear the low tone of Harry’s singing voice, and she almost finds herself leaning closer towards him so that she can listen more clearly.

When they reach the Youth Center, Harry pops open his trunk and reveals two boxes filled with toys. Nora helps him and grabs the other, peeking inside and seeing wrapped presents of various sizes. They enter the room and greet Miss Flaherty, who immediately delegates Harry and his strong arms to deliver all of the presents underneath the tree, and Nora is sent to pass out homemade cookies and milk and read to the younger children.

It’s a blur of activity, and in between reading A Christmas Carol and making sure the younger children don’t choke on their cookies, Nora almost forgets to watch Harry. She mainly notices him in passing—a quick glimpse of a grey long-sleeved arm passing out presents, an electric blue beanie bouncing up and down in her periphery, a peek of brown suede boots running around behind her. It’s only once Nora’s begun reading the fourth stave, in which the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come visits Scrooge, when she notices denim-clad long legs sitting cross-legged in front of her, with a five-year-old blonde girl perched on his lap.

Harry sits there and listens to Nora finish reading the book, watching the way she acts out each character so that the kids in front of her are completely entranced. Her hair looks shinier today than when they were nestled in the library, and her blue eyes glisten whenever she hears a small child “ooh” and “aah” at the sentence she just read. And whenever her gaze falls on Harry’s, he can’t help but mirror the grin on her face.

When it ends, the little girl in his lap whispers into his ear, “Can we give Nora a cookie? She did a good job reading,” and Harry begins nodding excitedly.

“I think that’s a great idea, love. Up you go, let’s go pick out the prettiest sugar cookie on the table, yeah?” When she latches her small hand into his, Nora can’t help but watch in adoration as he lifts her up and brings her to eye level with the cookie tray, pointing at certain ones and waiting for her little nod of approval.

And when the pair approach her, the little girl holding up a paper plate with a snowman sugar cookie on it, Nora’s smile couldn’t be wider. “Is this for me?” Nora asks, bending at her knees so that she’s eye-to-eye with the small girl.

She nods, bashfully. “To say thank you. Harry said you should get the prettiest cookie.”

When Nora grabs the cookie, she looks up at Harry to find that he’s already looking down at her, shrugging his shoulders as if it were nothing. But to Nora, it was practically everything, and she spends the rest of the afternoon in a blissful state, a smile permanently gracing her features.

When they get back to campus with both their stomachs filled with cookies and eggnog and Christmas breads, the sun is just starting to set past the horizon. Harry pulls into his parking spot but waits a moment to shut off the ignition, noticing how Nora’s gaze is focused on the sky as it turns from a cornflower blue to a prepossessing tangerine hue. The snow reflects the sunset perfectly, and even though it’s one of the prettiest winter sunsets Harry’s seen in a long time, he can’t stop looking at the girl sitting in his passenger seat.

She finally turns to him just as the sky changes from violet to indigo, “I had fun today.”

Harry nods, agreeing instantly. “Yeah, it was a good day.”

“Do you do that often? Is that why you stay here during Christmas break?” Nora’s not quite sure if she’s overstepping, but when Harry’s jaw doesn’t clench and his eyes stay rooted on her own, she can tell that he’s not as nervous to tell her things anymore.

“I’ve been doing it the past two years. My dad’s been going on work trips during the Holidays, so I just stay here.” It’s a version of the truth that he feels most comfortable sharing, and he’s grateful that Nora doesn’t push him.

“I’m assuming your friends don’t know,” Nora offers quietly, watching as Harry chuckles to himself, the sound being anything but funny.

“Yeah, they think I’m in the Alps.” He looks sad all of a sudden, and Nora wishes she hadn’t said anything. Because the fact that Harry’s father chooses to work during Christmas, thus leaving him no choice but to stay at Townbridge by himself, is a shitty thing to do. But instead of moping, he chooses to donate presents to children so they can have some sort of a normal Christmas, even though he doesn’t get the same in return. That’s quite admirable.

If it were Nora, she would be bragging to her friends about the Toy Drive, begging them to join her and spread more awareness. But Harry—Harry can’t do that. Because his friends would never understand, and that realization strikes Nora hard in her chest.

Giving him one last glance, she asks him, “Have you ever seen The Princess Bride?”

He looks at her, his eyebrows furrowed and his nose scrunched up in confusion. The sudden change in conversation is a bit jolting, and when he tries to figure out her intention, she giggles uncomfortably before rambling. “I nicked the DVD player from our common room and set it up in my dorm. Nobody really noticed, so I’ve been watching movies on it all semester.” He’s still looking at her, but instead of confusion written across his face, his lips begin to form a smirk and Nora begins to squirm in her seat, much like the first time they met three years ago in the Great Hall. “So, uh, have you seen it?”

He shakes his head once, twice, the smirk growing into a smile.

“Would you like to?” Nora’s not quite sure why she’s nervous, or more importantly, why she’s even inviting him up to her room in the first place. Maybe she pities him in the slightest, or maybe, just maybe, she’s found that she actually enjoys his presence for once in her life.

“Sure,” he replies easily. Nora watches as he turns the key in his ignition to shut the car off, before hopping out and waiting for her by the trunk. They walk inside Granary Hall together, ride the elevator up to the eighth floor in silence, before entering the fourth door on the right.

The room is moderate, practically identical to the one he had last year with Will, but for some reason, it just screams Nora Priestley. He can already tell which side of the room is hers due to the mix-matched comforter set, the thick homemade quilt, the generous stack of books leaning precariously against the wooden desk, and the collection of polaroids stuck to the wall above her bed nestled in the corner. While she takes off her parka and snow boots, Harry leans towards the photographs, smiling to himself when he sees the happiness radiating off of each one.

His eyes seem glued to the images of Nora and who he assumes to be her mother, with their arms wrapped around each other and their long hair tangling in the ocean breeze. They seem to have done everything together—various images of the two of them on beaches and hiking trails and in the front seat of an old car. Harry’s never seen pure happiness before, and he wishes he could burn these images underneath his eyelids so that he never forgets what that feeling looks like.

“That’s my mom,” Nora says from behind him, almost startling him. He turns around with flushed cheeks, an apology at the tip of his tongue for so obviously intruding. But when he sees her face and notices that she’s not angry at all, he feels his shoulders relax.

“You guys seem to do everything together,” he says softly, choosing his words carefully as to not overstep. The topic of family has always been a difficult one for him in the past.

But for Nora Priestley, she seems to have no qualms about the topic, with the way she’s nodding easily with a nostalgic grin on her face. “Yeah, it’s always been that way. Just the two of us.”

Harry doesn’t say much else, but the look on his face says it all. Some mixture of sadness and jealousy, because even though Nora only has one parent, it’s more than the two he’s known his entire life.

Nora fills her arms with the pillows from her mattress and creates a makeshift pallet on the floor against the end of her bed. Harry takes the seat closest to the door and watches amusedly as she begins to microwave popcorn, opening the door with ten seconds to spare so that she can mix in a package of M&M’s.

When she joins him moments later, she flicks the light off and hits play on the remote. Just as the opening credits begin, she plops down next to him and holds the bowl out in his direction.

“What’s this?” Harry asks, completely serious. He’s looking at the bowl with fascination, wondering what sort of salty-sugary concoction Nora just created.

“It’s the ultimate cinema snack,” Nora explains, grabbing a handful of chocolatey kernels and dropping them into her mouth, munching quietly as Harry looks at her with a glimmer in his eye.

When he pauses for a second time, looking between the movie and the bowl in Nora’s outstretched hands, a sudden realization falls over her.

“Have you never done this before? Gone to the cinema and eaten enough sugary sweets to give yourself a guaranteed stomachache?” The opening scene has already begun but Nora’s too focused on the boy next to her who shakes his head solemnly and looks into the bowl, avoiding Nora’s gaze. She wonders what else the boy she thought had everything in the world has seemingly missed out on.

She turns back around to face the screen, unknowingly scooting closer towards Harry so that their sides are nearly centimeters apart. He can feel the heat of her body against his own, and just when he’s about to say something, Nora announces, “Well, Harry Styles, there’s a first time for everything. Eat up.”

And he does just that.  

The next morning at breakfast at their usual table, Harry finds that he’s nervous. And not in the way that makes him angry and quiet and want to run away, but the kind that usually is caused by a girl. His stomach feels fluttery and his palms are sweating and he’s consistently overthinking, and he’s not even sure why—because he’s Harry Styles, for fuck’s sake. And the girl in question is none other than Nora Priestley.

But she’s wearing a beanie with a bobble on top and her cheeks are pink from the cold and there’s still snow clinging to the ends of her hair and he can’t help but feel out of his element. And he shouldn’t, truly, because he’s been with enough girls to know that these feelings don’t exist and that he’s probably fallen ill or something, most likely caused by the cookies they ate all afternoon and the popcorn-M&M monstrosity he inhaled during their movie.

They haven’t really said much, and Harry finds that he doesn’t mind, because he’s not really used to comfortable silences. Alyssa talks enough for the both of them and Grace and Erin are practically human echoes. Carter always has something new to say and Will answers him because he knows Harry won’t, so the fact that he can sit in the dining hall with somebody and read from each other’s books and talk about things that actually matter—it’s refreshing.

“These buildings are quite eerie when they’re completely empty, don’t you think?” Nora asks after they’ve disposed of their dirty plates.

“I think it’s kind of cool. Have you not been anywhere else besides here and the library?” Harry asks, grabbing his scarf and knotting it around his neck.

When Nora shakes her head, Harry’s hand reaches out to grab her own and he’s dragging her through the exit before she can even button up her parka.

“Harry!” Nora squeals, nearly tripping over her own two feet when she tries to keep up with his obnoxiously long strides. His hand still has hers in a vice-like grip and he doesn’t seem to be letting go any time soon, and it’s only once they’ve appeared in front of the English building when Nora digs her heels into the ground, causing Harry to turn around abruptly.

“What?” he asks, noticing the way her head shakes aggressively and her eyes are blown out as if she were completely and utterly afraid.

“No way. We’re not going in there, are you crazy?! It’s the most haunted building on campus, and it’s empty. No fucking way, Harry,” Nora says, standing her ground.

But with one roll of his eyes and some gentle prodding falling from his lips, Nora finds that she’s somehow ended up inside the stairwell of the empty building, laying next to Harry on the marble staircase. It’s silent, save for the sounds of their hearts beating in their chests and their even breaths falling from their parted lips. The window over the second-floor landing paints a pretty light through the surface, and Nora finds that she’s oddly comfortable in this haunted building she’s so terrified of.

She wonders if it’s because of the boy lying next to her.

“Where are you off to next year?” Harry asks suddenly, his head tipped towards the ceiling four stories up.

“Columbia, hopefully,” Nora says, focusing on the rays of light creating illusions along the stone walls.

“New York City?” Harry asks, sounding quite impressed.

“Yeah. How about you?” she asks, twisting her fingers absentmindedly in her lap.

Harry’s quiet for a moment and when Nora looks over, noticing the way his eyes close slowly and his jaw clenches harshly, she wonders if he’s okay. “Oxford,” he finally spits out, his eyes blinking towards the ceiling once more. “As expected.”

Nora thinks of how to respond, but before she can string together a cohesive thought, Harry suddenly turns his neck so that he’s facing her. “I hate expectations. I wish they didn’t fucking exist, if I’m being honest. How are you supposed to grow if you’re forced to do certain things that are already mapped out for you?”

Nora looks back at him, unexpectedly understanding a good chunk of who Harry is. How even though he’s Townbridge’s Golden Boy, the perfect boy who seemingly can get whatever he wants, he’s missing one thing. Happiness. Pure, unadulterated happiness.

“What do you want to do when you get to Columbia? Like if you had the choice, and nobody was making it for you, and you didn’t have to worry about anything else—what would make you happy?” Harry asks, a shocking hint of vulnerability laced in between his words.

When Nora stops and thinks about it, the answer is literally right in front of her face. It’s what she’s always wanted to do, what she wishes she could do—but knows deep down that she can’t do. Because it’s not stable and it’s not why Nora went to Townbridge in the first place.

“Scriptwriting. I’d want to write screenplays and work on sets and help construct films that people like me can watch over and over again and never get tired of,” Nora whispers, thinking that if she says it quietly in the stairwell with just Harry around, she can still keep it locked up buried deep inside, away from people who would ridicule her over it.

“What would you do?” Nora asks before Harry can comment on her dream. She’s still not sure she’s ready for that.

His answer comes easier than hers. “I’d want to teach. English lit, preferably.”

Vulnerability is a scary thing. It’s even scarier when it’s shared between two people who, up until five days ago, were practically strangers. As they watch each other, heartbreakingly realizing that these dreams of theirs are just something they’re supposed to chase—a sudden sadness washes over them on the stairwell.

“I can’t do that, though,” Harry says, turning towards the ceiling just as his voice breaks. “Because it’s not in the plan.”

“What is the plan?” Nora asks curiously, eyes still locked on Harry’s side profile, watching the way his jaw moves as he speaks.

“Business Administration at Oxford. An internship at my dad’s company during my second year, and then a full-time job there once I graduate. Board of directors by twenty-five, until I fully take over by thirty. That’s it. That’s my life.” Harry’s voice has never sounded so broken before, and Nora feels her heart splinter a little for the boy lying beside her. Because right now, he’s eighteen, and he’s not supposed to be feeling this inordinate amount of pressure. But he is, and that thought makes Nora incredibly sad.

“And you?” Harry asks suddenly, looking towards her again.

“What about me?” Nora asks cautiously.

“What’s stopping you from becoming a scriptwriter?”

It’s a simple question if Nora really thinks about it. But things aren’t always that easy, and explaining to Harry how his anguish is not too far off from her own is quite a terrifying thought. Because they come from two separate worlds, and finding common ground in the fact that the things they truly yearn for are just not tangible is a sobering experience.

“My mom has higher expectations for me. I mean, I’m The Scholarship Girl. I’m not even supposed to be here. But my mom pushed for me and Mrs. Clemonte supported my application and before I even had a say in it, Townbridge was my plan,” Nora starts, feeling Harry’s eyes on her as she looks anywhere else but in the green of his. “My mom had me young, so she never got to go to college. She’s always telling me to do the things she couldn’t do, make better decisions than she made, be the best version of me I can be. And I do try, constantly. Because she works endlessly and she does everything she can to make sure I don’t end up like her, and that’s a lot of pressure for one person to take, because how can I repay her by studying performance arts and joining an industry that’s already extremely difficult to get into?” Nora’s eyes fall from the ceiling towards Harry, and there’s an unreadable expression on his face. “I can’t do that to her. It would break her heart.”

Harry nods like he understands, and for a brief moment, Nora thinks that he truly does. Because even though their situations are different and they come from two completely separate walks of life, they both have fallen victim to an excruciating amount of pressure.

“I’m sorry,” Harry says, sounding more sincere than he ever has in his entire life.

Nora just shrugs, turning her face back towards the ceiling. “Not your fault.”

“I’m sorry for a lot of things, I guess,” Harry whispers, and Nora almost misses it over the sound of her own breathing. But when she feels his eyes warm her left cheek, she looks back at him and sees that he’s suddenly overridden with guilt.

“It’s okay, Harry—”

“—No, no. It’s really not.” He’s staring at her intently, and Nora’s suddenly found that she can’t look anywhere else. “What Carter did was wrong, and I didn’t do anything about it. And you lost all of your friends and he just went on the same as he always did, and the whole thing is just so fucked up.”

“I didn’t lose everybody,” Nora adds sheepishly, wishing this conversation would end. She doesn’t want to relive last year, she wants to forget its existence entirely.

“Still, it was wrong,” he frustratedly repeats. “You shouldn’t have just one friend at school.”

“It’s okay, though,” she says one last time, her voice urging him to understand her so that they can ultimately end this dreaded conversation. “I’d rather have one true friend than a bunch of fairweather ones.”

Harry nods and turns back towards the ceiling, and she knows that he isn’t going to say anything. Because this conversation is over, and what Nora said is unquestionably true. But he doesn’t want to face the harsh reality of his empty friendships, so instead, he stares at the ceiling, wondering how his life would have turned out if he fell into a different group instead of the one he has now.

Once Nora’s back starts to ache against the stone stairwell, she sits up and peers through the window on the second-story landing. The snow is falling down a bit harder now, coating the campus below in a thick, billowing white blanket. She thinks it’s beautiful. She thinks it’s far too inviting. So without thinking (something she’s been doing a lot of this week), she reaches for Harry’s hand and heaves him up, dragging him out of the English building and into the empty quad.

“What are you doing?” Harry asks, confusion and amusement weaving together beautifully in his voice. Without answering, Nora reaches down and makes a snowball through her fingerless gloves, before hurling it straight towards Harry’s chest.

He looks at her with his jaw practically on the floor, faking his anger even though Nora can see right through it. She’s giggling loudly, almost hunched over at the shocked expression on his face. And before she can even comprehend it, Harry makes a snowball faster than her own and hits her right in the shoulder.

“Hey!” she calls back, wiping the leftover snow off her parka. Harry’s mischievous grin is clear as day through the thick snowfall, and when she mirrors it back, they’ve suddenly found themselves in a snow war.

Their laughter echoes through the quad and bounces off the stone buildings, and once Nora’s beanie is submerged in the snow and their jeans are soaked through and the only sound they can hear is their teeth chattering together, Harry calls a truce and drags her towards the direction of Quinby House. It’s closer than Granary Hall by at least five minutes, and when he holds the front door open for her, Nora enters without really thinking of the repercussions.

“Our floor’s empty and we have a private bathroom, so, er, if you want to shower first you’re more than welcome to. I’ve got warm clothes you can change into,” Harry offers quietly, rubbing his palm against the back of his neck. Nora can’t tell if the blush coating his cheeks is from the snow clinging to his body or something else entirely, but she doesn’t push it. Instead, she nods, following him to the last door on the left of the third floor, removing her snow boots in the hallway outside and beginning to walk towards the adjoining bathroom.

Nora closes the door without turning the lock, and immediately turns the shower on to its highest setting as she removes each soggy layer of clothing. She steps in just as the steam is clouding the small room, and when she notices the citrus body wash in the corner, she grabs that one instead of the Irish Spring bottle, knowing that it’s Harry’s.

Just as Harry’s pulled out a tight pair of joggers and his freshly washed soccer sweatshirt, he hears the distinct sound of the door creaking open. When he looks over his shoulder and finds that Nora isn’t peeking her head out from behind, he immediately gulps, knowing that the old door and the hot room caused the hinges to loosen.

As he approaches the door to close it securely, he can’t help but look up and notice Nora’s bare back through the mirror. Luckily he doesn’t see anything else, but still, he finds himself not being able to look away. Her milky skin is slightly red from the hot streams of the shower hitting her back and her blonde hair is sudsy and a part of him hopes that she picked his shampoo instead of Will’s. And when she moves her hair from the nape of her neck, Harry notices four black letters tattooed into her skin, and suddenly he closes the door before he can make out the blackletter script.

He sits on his bed across the room, his elbows resting on his thighs with his head in his hands as he tries his hardest to regulate his breathing. It’s a fucking back for Christ’s sake! Harry’s seen far more amongst other girls, and the fact that her hidden tattoo is causing his heart to beat erratically is giving him a migraine. Because it’s Nora fucking Priestley behind that door, and he’s Harry fucking Styles. And he needs to remember that before he embarrasses himself any further.

But when the door finally opens fully and she’s standing there in a tiny towel barely covering her legs and her wet hair framing her blushing face, Harry knows he’s fucked. Because it’s Nora fucking Priestley. And she’s standing there naked underneath terry-cloth and he doesn’t try to ignore the fact that his thumping heart and his staggered breathing are all because of her.

“So those, uh, clothes you were talking about…” Nora says awkwardly, staring at the carpeted flooring of his room instead of his face. Because she’s very clearly naked and very clearly uncomfortable, and when Harry points towards Will’s bed where the articles in question are resting, she barely mutters a thank you before the wooden door is shut again and she can finally breathe properly.

When they exchange places, Nora’s grateful that Harry has the decency to bring his change of clothing into the bathroom with him, because if she had to stare at his wet torso, she’s not quite sure she could bear it.

She snoops through his dorm room once she hears the water running, and finds that his side is practically barren. There are no pictures of his family, no personalized anecdotes to distinguish Harry’s side of the room from Willy’s, nothing except a collection of books in the open section underneath his nightstand. She reads through the titles, realizing that Harry does, in fact, have a thing for classic literature.

Just as she’s moved on to Willy’s desk, observing the stoic photograph of him and his parents that must have been taken recently, Harry emerges from the bathroom in comfy sweats and wet curly hair, and Nora looks away before she’s caught admiring his figure.

“What are you looking at?” Harry asks, dropping his wet clothes into his hamper before turning towards Nora’s position against Will’s desk.

When she holds up the frame, Harry looks between the picture and Nora’s face. As Harry studies her expression, noting the way her eyes are clouded with familiarity and a hint of sadness that lingers underneath, he can tell that she knows this family quite well.

So he asks, “You know Will, don’t you?”

“Knew would be the appropriate term,” Nora says quietly, placing the frame back where she found it before leaning her backside on his desk so that she can face Harry properly. “My mom was his nanny.”

Before Harry can comment, Nora quickly adds, “But please don’t tell him that. I don’t want him to think I’ve ruined his reputation or anything.”

“Why?” Harry asks, stepping towards her slowly. When she looks up at him with confusion, he continues, “Why would you let him lie to everybody?”

Nora just shrugs. “He obviously didn’t want anybody to know. But I know the truth, and Willy knows the truth, and he’s the one who has to live with that, not me.”

Harry looks at her from the middle of his room, thinking it’s quite remarkable that her brain works like that. Because Will had embarrassed her clear as day in front of all of his friends, and not only that, he lied, too. Harry thinks that if he hadn’t said those words, and if Alyssa and her friends hadn’t reacted that way, and if he just had a moment to talk to Nora before they had interrupted—maybe things would be completely different.

But Harry doesn’t like to think about what if’s. So instead, he grabs his laptop from his desk and powers it on, laying down on his twin bed in the spot closest to the wall, pulling up his movie library and patting the empty spot on his mattress.

When Nora lays down next to him, her back propped up on his headboard as her left side is flushed with Harry’s right, she asks, “Are we watching your favorite this time?”

Harry grins, shaking his head. “No, I’d rather watch another one of yours.”

Blushing, Nora grabs the computer from his lap and types in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, a classic that she’s sure Harry will enjoy. And when she hands his computer back to him, she tries to ignore the fact that Harry was watching her face instead of the screen.

“Have you seen this?” Nora asks, trying to break Harry out of whatever weird trance he fell into.

“Nope,” Harry admits, balancing his computer in the middle of their thighs so that they can both view the screen properly. Nora tries to ignore the fact that she had to move closer towards him to fill in the gap, but the redness flushing up and down her neck practically gives her away. “Why is it one of your favorites?”

His question is simple in hindsight, but it makes her heart bubble when she realizes that he’s actually interested in the little things about her that seem meaningless. “Well, it’s a classic, and I know that’s sort of your thing,” she says, smiling when she pulls a chuckle from his mouth. “And it’s one of my favorite examples of breaking the fourth wall in a screenplay.”

“What on earth is that?” Harry asks, clicking play once the movie has finished loading.

“It’s sort of like metafiction in literature. Basically, it’s a plot device that scriptwriter’s use when the main character speaks to the audience. Ferris does it, like, all the time.” When Nora realizes that she sounds extremely nerdy divulging scriptwriting plot devices and intricacies about film that nobody really cares about, she shuts her mouth, turning crimson.

Harry doesn’t say anything though, and she’s grateful for it. Because even if he thinks it’s weird and nerdy (which he doesn’t, of course, but he’d never tell her that), he turns his head towards the screen and tries to hide the smile on his face.

And when the opening monologue begins and Ferris is in the shower talking to the camera, Harry whispers into Nora’s ear and asks, “Is that it?” She tries to cover the shiver running through her skin at the feeling of Harry’s lips brushing against her earlobe, but Harry notices it, like he notices everything about her lately. So for good measure, when Ferris breaks the fourth wall again at Cameron’s house, Harry leans over and mumbles, “And this, yeah? This is it, too?”

Nora knows he’s teasing, so when she turns her face in his direction so that Harry can see her rolling her eyes in good humor, he tries to ignore the warmth on his shoulder from where her chin rests.

Around halfway through the movie, Nora finds that she’s suddenly grown tired. She sneaks a peek at Harry and notices that he’s captivated by the movie on the small screen, and she really doesn’t want to interrupt him. After her third stifled yawn, Nora can feel her eyes drooping, and without really thinking, her head falls against the fleshy part of Harry’s bicep. Harry doesn’t say anything, but he does flinch for the shortest of seconds, before looking at her and realizing that she looks far too content dozing off on his arm. So he keeps quiet, trying to ignore the fluttering in his chest.

The next morning, Nora wakes up and finds that she’s not in her room. She also finds that her left cheek is smushed against comfy cotton material that keeps rising and falling steadily. And when she finally comes to, she finds that the comfy cotton material belongs to Harry, and the rising and falling belongs to his chest, and when she notices her right arm wrapped securely around his lower stomach just above the waistband of his joggers where a sliver of warm, tattooed skin lies, she freezes. Before Harry can wake up and go through the same motions she just did, Nora springs up, a stupid decision that results in Harry stirring abruptly.

He seems to have realized the compromising position they were just in, and before Nora can run out of the room in a panic, he mutters, “I’m sorry,” in his incredibly scratchy morning voice and Nora finds that it really doesn’t help matters.

Because Harry Styles in the morning is something special. He looks good in every lighting, if Nora is being brutally honest, but there’s something about his puffy face and swollen lips and crackling voice that makes her appreciate him a little bit more than she probably should in the early hours of the day.

“It’s, uh, my fault. I was the one who fell asleep,” Nora offers lamely, raking her fingers through her matted hair to try and alleviate the awkwardness in the room.

And when Harry mutters, “I didn’t mind” at the same time Nora says, “I should probably go,” they both freeze and look at each other timidly. Harry’s wondering why he doesn’t want her to leave and Nora’s wondering why she wants to wrap her body around his again, and it’s all too much for nine in the morning.

But he’s still looking at her, and she’s still looking at him, and somehow they’ve both landed on solid ground for the first time. Harry’s finding out that he quite likes the look of her burrowed in his soccer sweatshirt and Nora’s discovering that she’s never slept better than when she was lying next to him, and when he asks her if she wants him to save their usual table at the dining hall for breakfast, Nora nods, thinking it’s the greatest idea in the world.

An hour later, after Nora’s gone back to her room to change (begrudgingly) into her own clothes and freshen up, it’s almost second nature when she falls into the seat across from Harry with a steaming plate of waffles and fruit. He has her coffee ready for her just the way she likes it, a splash of cream with one sugar cube, and she can’t help but match the grin covering the lower half of his face.

Even though Nora had the best sleep of her life, and waking up next to Harry was something she wishes she could do over and over and over again—she feels guilty. Because Harry is with Alyssa and Alyssa isn’t here and the whole thing makes her head throb painfully.

So, regretfully, Nora apologizes for what feels like the hundredth time that day.

“Nora, you’ve nothing to be sorry for. Please stop apologizing, it’s driving me mad,” Harry jokes, stealing the syrup from her hands and pouring a generous amount over his stack of waffles.

“It’s just—Alyssa’s your girlfriend. And I know she doesn’t necessarily like me, but that still doesn’t make it right to share a bed with you,” Nora explains even though she knows it’s driving Harry crazy.

Harry nods, dropping his silverware against his plate so that his attention is focused solely on the girl across from him. “I know, but as I said earlier, I didn’t mind. If I didn’t want you to stay, I would have said something,” and before he resumes eating, he adds quietly, “It’s not like Alyssa’s really my girlfriend.”

“What do you mean?” Nora asks, noticing the way Harry exhales out of his mouth slowly.

“For all intents and purposes, I guess you could call her that. But it’s really only surface level, because if our parents didn’t summer together every year and force us to be together, it probably never would have happened in the first place. But it did, and we put on this show and everybody thinks we’re this happy little couple. And maybe we were, for a short while. But I haven’t really been the nicest boyfriend to her and she’s strayed on more than one occasion, and it’s all sort of scrambled,” Harry admits, staring at his tray to avoid Nora’s eyes. If he did look up, though, he would have noticed the sadness floating through her eyes and the frown swooping over her lips.

The rumors about Harry flirting with other girls and the occasional sneaky kiss in back corner’s of parties have been brought to Nora’s attention on multiple occasions. And even the ones last spring about Alyssa sneaking out of Carter’s dorm room trickled down to Nora’s group of friends, but she did her best to ignore them. Because she knows better than anyone how the rumor mill works, and even though Alyssa, Carter, and Harry did nothing to help Nora, she still couldn’t bring herself to stoop down to their level.

“Sounds like an incestuous mess to me,” Nora decides to say, trying to bring an air of lightness to the sudden uncomfortable topic of discussion.

It works, and Harry finds himself chuckling loudly across the table. “Yeah, it’s all about labels. Kind of a shitty thing to admit, but I’ve never really loved Alyssa. Can’t say I see that happening in the future, either.” He’s willingly giving Nora information that he hasn’t even told anybody before, and she’s not quite sure what to do with that revelation.

“That’s quite sad,” Nora says softly.

“Why’s that?” Harry asks, curious.

“I don’t know. Sounds like you’re just wasting your time, I guess,” Nora pauses and Harry can tell she’s trying to figure out how to phrase her next thought. “Maybe I’ve watched one too many movies, so ignore me if I’m wrong, but being with somebody isn’t supposed to feel like a chore. It should be fun. Exhilarating, even. What you have with Alyssa just sounds—exhausting.”

When Harry’s quiet for a few moments, Nora suddenly realizes that what she had just said was probably completely out of order. “Sorry if I’m overstepping, that was probably rude of me.”

Noticing Nora’s distress, Harry gives her a small smile and just shrugs his shoulders. “You’re not overstepping. You’re probably right, if I’m being honest. But at this point, there’s no use in switching things up.” There’s a brief pause in which Nora breathes out a sigh of relief, reaching towards her coffee and taking a generous sip. Before Harry realizes what he’s saying, he asks her quickly, “Have you ever had that feeling?”

“What feeling?” Nora asks.

Harry grins shyly. “Being with someone and having it be fun and exhilarating.”

Nora nods slowly, thinking about Connor. “I think so. For a little while, at least.”

“What happened?” Harry’s not sure if he’s the one who’s overstepping now. But when he notices Nora’s cheeks blush ever so subtly and her lips quirk up into sentimental half-smile, he suddenly feels an uncomfortable knot form in his stomach. It’s twisting and turning and he’s never had this feeling before—not when he found out Alyssa was sleeping with Carter, not when his parents decided to go to St. Tropez without him, not ever. But with Nora sitting across from him looking wistfully in the distance, Harry’s found that he’s practically consumed with jealousy, and he fucking hates it.

“He moved away, and I had to come back here for school,” Nora explains, breaking out of her daydream and looking back towards Harry. When she notices the unreadable expression on his face, she decides to change the subject. “So, what do you want to do today?”

Harry tries his hardest to forget about Nora’s mystery man for the rest of the day, but he can’t help it. The jealousy is like a seed planted in the depths of his stomach, and he feels it growing and growing inside of him until he’s practically turned green with envy. And he has no fucking idea why it’s bothering him so much.

Hours later, they’re back in Nora’s room for another movie night after a day filled with exchanging their favorite novels and talking about things Harry’s never even discussed with his own friends. Nora chooses Notting Hill, thinking that out of all of the movies in her favorites list, this one has got to be one that Harry’s seen before.

But when he shakes his head when she holds up the plastic DVD cover in his direction, Nora’s mouth is already on the floor and Harry can’t help but laugh at her shocked expression.

“How have you never seen this?! You’re British! You should be ashamed! I’m calling Gordon Brown and asking him to revoke your citizenship,” Nora exclaims, setting up the DVD player and inserting the disc inside the tray. She’s changed into leggings and chose Harry’s soccer sweatshirt over the worn-in Townbridge one she’s owned since freshman year, and Harry feels giddy with pride at the thought of it all.

“I already apologized for it! Give me a break, Priestley!” Harry calls back, amusement lacing his words.

Nora finds herself giggling in response, and once the title screen is displayed on the television, she peeks over her shoulder and finds that Harry is getting himself comfortable on her bed. He’s wearing track bottoms and a cream-colored henley, and when he claims the spot near the wall and burrows underneath the quilt her mother cross-stitched for her last Christmas, Nora can’t wipe the silly grin off her face.

“This movie makes me want to visit London,” Nora admits, pressing play on the remote and walking towards her bed. When Harry opens up the blanket for Nora to slide into, she does so easily, feeling the most comfortable she’s ever felt in her entire life.

“Yeah?” Harry asks, dropping the blanket underneath Nora’s chin and throwing an arm around her shoulder.

Nora surprisingly doesn’t flinch. Instead, she curls closer to his body, resting her chin on the planes of his chest and her hand just below. “Yeah.”

“I think you’d like it,” Harry whispers against the crown of her head just as the opening scene begins.

The first few scenes of the movie pass by in comfortable silence. But just after Hugh Grant meets Julia Roberts in his bookstore, Nora can practically feel Harry’s brain whizzing because he’s thinking too hard. And just when it starts to become distracting, Nora asks, “What’re you thinking about? I can hear your brain churning from here.”

He exhales out a laugh and admits truthfully, “I keep thinking about your exhilarating crush.”

Nora feels stunned all of a sudden, her body freezing against his own. “Why?” she somehow chokes out through her dry throat.

Nora can hear the gulp Harry takes from above. “I dunno. Suppose I’m very interested to know what kind of guy swept Nora Priestley off her feet.”

She sits up with her back to the television, completely ignoring the movie playing behind her. The quilt falls from her shoulders and pools around her waist, and she’s suddenly grateful for the cooler air of her dorm room whipping against her neck, because she’s grown increasingly warm. Harry slides his body up on the bed until his torso is flushed against the headboard, staring at Nora with those green eyes that for the first time, aren’t dull. Instead, they’re almost twinkling in the dim lighting of her room.

His gaze is focused solely on Nora—on the messy fringe falling against her forehead, the gentle slope of her nose, the plushness of her pink lips, the angular curve of her jawline. The way she looks buried in his sweatshirt with the sleeves falling past her fingertips causes his heart to beat loudly inside his chest, and the overwhelming urge to kiss her has never been more prominent before in his life.

“I think I’ve always thought about it,” Harry admits quietly, his eyes never falling from her own. Because if they did move, he would have missed the way her mouth parted slightly, a small inhale slipping down her throat. He would have missed the way her eyes widened almost comically, the blueness reminding him of the sky on a pleasing, clear day. And when he takes all of that into consideration, he comes to the conclusion that Nora Priestley is undoubtedly beautiful, and probably always has been. He’s always just been too stupid to realize it.

“You never said anything,” Nora whispers back, staring at Harry with the same ferocity. “You never say anything.”

Harry nods, “I know.” And when he inches his body closer to hers and notices that she doesn’t back away from him, he adds, “I’m saying it now. Am I too late?”

Nora watches the way Harry leans towards her, his body being held up by his hands that are anchored to the mattress in front of her knees. Even though the movie is still playing from the television behind her, she can’t hear anything except for the accelerated beating of her heart racking against her ribs and pounding against her chest.

He’s so close to her now, the tip of his nose brushing against her own so tactfully that Nora’s not even sure if it’s actually happening. At this proximity, Nora can see inside his eyes and she finds that they’re not as green as she once thought. Instead, they’re almost a turquoise color, with golden hues circling his pupil and when she looks closely, she can see her own face in the reflection. And suddenly, that’s the only answer she needs before she’s wrapping her arms around his neck and crashing her lips against his own.

Even though Harry Styles is Nora’s third first kiss, it’s the best one she’s had yet. It’s slow at first, just the gentle pressure of two sets of lips pressing against the other’s. It’s hesitant, timid, nervous, until Harry wraps his arm around Nora’s back, pulling her closer towards him so that their fronts are completely flushed. After that, it’s intense, passionate, frenzied.

His teeth nip at her lower lip until she opens her mouth ever so slightly, allowing his tongue to slip through. Once Nora gets the message, she opens her mouth wider, angling her head to the side so that she can slip her own inside of his mouth, the two fleshy organs tangling together causing a reverberating hum to break from the back of Harry’s throat.

The sounds cause Nora to still, and when she breaks away and notices the dark hue in Harry’s eyes, the exasperated breaths causing his chest to rise and fall sporadically, the bright pinkness of his lips—it’s all Nora needs to push Harry back into his seated position against her headboard, crawling over on her knees until her legs are straddling his hips. She slinks both hands through his wild hair until they connect at the back of his head, and their lips connect for a second time.

This time, Nora’s not shy to let her teeth clink against Harry’s in a mad rush to gain dominance over their kiss. This time, Harry’s not reticent to let his hands roam the expanse of her back, slipping them underneath the bottom of his baggy sweatshirt so that his fingers can dance against her flushed skin without a barrier in between.

Nora’s hands fall from Harry’s hair to his neck, to the chain that rests against the middle of his chest that’s exposed through the unbuttoned part of his henley, all the way down his stomach until her fingers play with the hem of his shirt. When her nails lightly scratch against Harry’s lower stomach where Nora knows the tips of two tattooed ferns lie, he gets the hint and unlocks their lips, reaching his hands over her own and pulling his shirt up and over his head.

Nora sits back on Harry’s thighs, watching how Harry throws his crumpled shirt somewhere on the floor of her dorm room without care. His hair is mussed from a combination of Nora’s fingers and the quick way he removed his henley, and when Nora’s eyes ogle at the two identical swallows underneath his collarbones, the small definition of his chest, the butterfly permanently drawn in the middle of his stomach, to the small trail of hair below his belly button that disappears beneath the waistband of his track pants—she’s hot all over.

Her eyes lift back to Harry’s and find that he’s suddenly nervous. He’s blinking up at her with an indecipherable expression on his face, and when the hands that rest against her hips start to fall ever so softly, Nora grips the bottom of Harry’s sweatshirt and lifts it over her head, throwing it against the floor.

She’s sitting there, against his hips wearing a simple nude bra, and Harry feels his breath constricting in his throat at the sight of her. Her lips are swollen and her fringe is frizzy and when her teeth sink into her bottom lip and her cheeks begin to flush, Harry’s hands reach behind her neck to bring her down to his face. And just before their lips meet for the third time, he whispers, “You’re beautiful,” against her mouth, sealing it with his own so that she never forgets it.

Nora’s never done this before, but when Harry’s mouth falls to her neck and she accidentally grinds her hips into his own below in surprise, the groan that emits from his throat is practically feral. So, she does it again, her throat hitching when his teeth sink into the fleshy juncture of her shoulder and neck. One of his hands is tangled in her hair, and the other is resting on her hip. But when she grinds into him for the third time, he brings that hand up to the clasp of her bra, removing his lips from her neck and breathing against her mouth.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice sounding more strained than ever before. Nora finds that it’s unquestionably the hottest thing she’s ever heard, and when she brings her hands to rest on his searing chest, her nails scraping against his skin, the whine that falls from his lips might just be hotter.

“Yes,” Nora whispers back, holding her breath when his fingers easily undo the clasp, the straps sliding down her shoulders as the cups covering her breasts begin to fall. When she lowers her arms so that her elbows are no longer bent, the garment falls easily from her body and onto the mattress below.

Cautiously, she looks at Harry and finds that he’s looking into her eyes to make sure that she feels safe with him. The thought alone makes her nerves completely subside, and when she nods ever so slightly, Harry finally lets his eyes fall towards her chest. She watches him as he sits up, bringing his lips to the base of her throat as he places gentle kisses along the expanse of her neck, down to her sternum, until his lips are centimeters away from her breasts. When her fingers tangle into his curly hair, Harry peeks up at her briefly before placing his mouth around her right nipple, his hand softly massaging her left.

Nora’s head falls back and a moan tears through her throat, and it’s the first time that’s ever happened in her life. Harry stills, his lips moving slightly so that he can watch her, and it’s enough to make the bulge in his pants grow until it’s practically unbearable. His tongue continues to move down her body, kissing along the lines on her stomach until his hand moves to rub the fleshy part of Nora’s hips, hesitantly moving towards the front of her body. And when his right hand cups her legging-clad core, Nora’s hands halt in Harry’s hair, and he removes his lips from her body and looks at her.

“I don’t think I’m—” Nora pauses, her confident streak breaking. “I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

“It’s okay, I wasn’t planning on having sex with you,” Harry says softly, bringing his hand up to take a piece of her blonde hair that’s fallen in front of her face and tucking it behind her ear. “We can do something else if you’d like. But the second you’re uncomfortable, tell me and I’ll stop. Okay?” He’s never been this patient with somebody before in his life, and somehow Nora can sense that. She’s incredibly grateful for Harry then, and once her breathing has regulated and she’s no longer anxious, she nods, pecking him softly on the lips.

Harry pecks her back once, twice, thrice until cupping his hand back against her front. He rubs her slowly then, and when Nora feels the stickiness from inside her underwear permeate through the thin material, she shudders against his body. His fingers curl into the waistband of her leggings, and after asking her for permission, she lifts her hips and her knees so that he can pull the black material halfway down her legs, leaving Nora in just her simple baby blue underwear.

Harry resumes his ministrations, causing Nora to wrap her arms around his neck, her elbows resting against his shoulders as her body quivers again. And when his fingertips sneak underneath the material, a long finger gently stroking her slit, Nora’s hands use Harry’s hair as an anchor as her forehead rests against his own as she emits a blissful sigh. Just before his finger slides in, he brings his lips against hers so that he can feel her moans hit the back of his throat.

It’s uncomfortable and awkward at first, and when her breath hitches in her throat and her lips break away from Harry’s, he pauses, looking at her with concern. “Do you want me to stop?”

Nora looks at him, her hand ruffling his hair tenderly as she shakes her head. Grinning, Harry brings his lips back to hers, resuming pumping his finger inside of her.

After a few strokes, Nora starts to feel her rigid body unraveling, and suddenly she’s matching Harry’s rhythm as she grinds down onto his finger. When his wet thumb starts to circle her swollen mound, another moan rips from her throat, causing their kisses to halt.

“I love that,” Harry whispers against her mouth, sucking her lower lip between his own and beginning to move his hand faster.

The stickiness is accruing inside her underwear and Nora can feel sweat brimming at the nape of her neck. She feels hot to the touch, and when Harry changes his thumb strokes from clockwise to counter-clockwise, a fluttering like no other vibrates through her lower stomach as she whines into his mouth.

“I think you’re close,” Harry says, bringing his hand that isn’t inside of her around her lower back to keep her steady. And when his finger curls and presses against a spongy spot inside of her, Nora feels the fluttering turn into a full-blown explosion, and suddenly her eyes close shut at the ferocity of it all.

Nora stills on top of him, feeling the stickiness begin to coat her inner thighs as a loud moan rips from her throat. Her hands move from Harry’s hair to his shoulder blades, and when she opens her eyes and realizes that her fingernails have carved crescent moons into the flesh, she immediately removes them.

The warmth has gone, and in its place, a numbing sort of calmness. Harry removes his hand from inside her underwear and when he looks up at her and sees her irises blown out and her cheeks pinkened and her lower lip indented by her front teeth, he grins smugly and kisses her softly.

“Alright?” he asks once her eyes have opened fully and she no longer is panting against his cheek.

Nora nods, a bit shy considering she just had her first orgasm and she’s not quite sure what to do next. She looks down and notices the bulge in Harry’s pants, and smiles at him unsurely. “If you tell me what to do, I can, er, help you out?”

Harry smirks, running a gentle hand through her hair and shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, babe. Just, uh, give me a mo’. I’ll be right back,” he says softly, placing two hands on her hips and lifting her slowly so that she’s no longer straddling his waist.

When she pulls her leggings back on, the stickiness is far too uncomfortable between her thighs. Harry notices her wiggle on the mattress and chuckles to himself, finding it all too adorable. When he gets up from her bed, shifting his pants so that his erection is less painful, he turns towards Nora before crossing the hall into the communal bathrooms.

“Where do you keep your linens?” Harry asks from his position by her door. Confusedly, Nora points towards the wardrobe near her desk and he opens it slowly, grabbing a folded hand towel and passing it to her. She smiles softly, thanking him before watching him retreat into the hallway.

After Nora’s changed her underwear and put on a pair of sleep shorts, sliding Harry’s sweatshirt back over her body once her skin has cooled down, she gets back under the covers and turns her attention towards Notting Hill. Harry comes in a few minutes later, the front of his pants lacking a distinct bulge. He looks over and notices her lying comfortably in her bed, and when she moves her eyes from the screen to his figure standing in the doorway, a cute grin covers the lower half of her face.

“You coming to bed?” Nora asks, patting the spot on the mattress beside her. With a quick smile, Harry walks towards her, lifting his body over her own so that he can resume his position by the wall. And just as his arms are on either side of her body, his shirt still somewhere on her floor and his pants low on his hips, he sneaks a kiss from her lips before plopping down next to her, wrapping an arm over her shoulders tightly.

“Think we can start this movie over?” Harry asks, playing with the ends of Nora’s hair that falls inside the hood of his sweatshirt.

Nora hits rewind, wondering if it’ll hurt falling asleep with a grin permanently stuck on her face.

The next morning, Nora wakes up feeling far too warm. Her backside is flushed completely with Harry’s front, and he’s spooning her tightly. His arms are wrapped securely around Nora’s stomach and she can feel his breath against the side of her neck in hot spurts, his nose brushing the spot underneath her ear. His curly hair is tickling the sides of her face and his legs are slotted between her own and Nora’s never been so tangled up with somebody else before.

And while it’s comforting, there’s no denying that Harry’s body heat is pervading through her skin, and when she wiggles to try and figure out a way to lower the duvet from underneath her chin, it causes Harry to wake up.

As his eyes flutter open, he subconsciously brings Nora’s body closer to his own, and when he finally does open his eyes fully, he notices how close they’ve gotten in the middle of the night. Harry’s not quite sure how it happened, but somehow being wrapped up with Nora Priestley has caused him to have the best night’s sleep of his entire life.

“Morning,” she whispers, her chin resting on her left shoulder as she peeks at him behind her. Her blue eyes are foggy in the morning and her lips are beautifully swollen, and even though her hair is knotted and her cheeks have red jagged lines from her pillowcase all over them, he can’t help but grin back at her, finding her perfect.

“Hi,” he says back, his voice cracking from lack of use. They both roll over so that their backs are flat on the mattress. And just when Harry’s about to swing his arm over Nora’s shoulder to bring her closer to his body so that they can fall back asleep, his Blackberry rings loudly from the nightstand.

Before he can let it go to voicemail, he reaches around Nora’s body to grab it, gulping when he sees Alyssa’s name across the screen. Apprehensively, he brings the phone to his ear, ignoring the heat of Nora’s gaze against his cheek.

“Hello?” he mumbles halfheartedly.

“Baby! Wake up, sleepyhead! We’ll all be back on campus in, like, two hours. Our flight just landed. When will you get in?” Nails scraping down a chalkboard would be a better sound than the one he just heard through the speaker of his mobile. Because suddenly, his Nora Priestley bubble has popped. Their ten-day vacation has come to an abrupt end, and Harry can feel the panic begin to spread throughout his body.

“Harry? You there?” Alyssa asks, and it’s only then when Harry realizes he’s been deadly silent.

He coughs into his fist uncomfortably, before saying, “Hey, sorry. Uh, sounds good. My flight got in a few hours ago. I’m actually, er, pulling into campus now,” Harry lies. The familiar feeling of shame washes over him, and when he feels Nora slide out of bed beside him, a puzzled look falling across her face, he’s never felt worse in his life.

“Perfect! Can’t wait to see you, baby!” Alyssa squeals, and before Harry can respond, he hangs up the phone, tossing it purposelessly against the end of her bed.

It’s silent between the two, and not the sort of comfortable silence that they’ve grown accustomed to with each other. Instead, it’s heavy, weighing them both down until they feel fatigued under the burden of it all.

Nora knows deep down that this is it. The Harry she’s grown to adore the past ten days is no longer there. In its place is the cold, disheartening, lifeless Harry that she’s hated ever since he casted her out during the First Year Mixer almost four years ago. Just like with Connor, her romance with Harry is fleeting. It has an expiration date. And sadly, they’ve reached their end.

He doesn’t say much, and she doesn’t expect him to. He’s clearly tormented by all of this, getting out of her bed ploddingly as he scans the floor for his clothing from the night before. He’s distracted as he puts on his wrinkled Henley, slides on his boots without tying them, slips his arms inside his trench coat, and places everything else he can try to remember inside the pockets. And just before he leaves her room, he stops and turns, looking at her with those dull, green eyes from before.

This is it, Nora thinks, watching the way his eyes fall from her face towards his big sweatshirt on her body to her long legs hidden underneath her tiny sleep shorts. He’s going to apologize. He’s going to come back to bed. He’s going to—

“Can I have my jumper back?” Nora feels as if she’s just been kicked in the chest, air ripping from her lungs and falling into the space between her and Harry. She’s never felt so small in her life. And when his eyes are still dull and his foot begins to tap impatiently and he looks as if he’s about to burst, Nora knows this is truly it. The Harry she knows is officially gone.

Or maybe this is who Harry really is. And the version she got was just a figment of her imagination, an imposter Harry, a Harry that only existed within the ten days of Holiday break inside an empty Townbridge Academy.

With shaking hands, Nora rips the sweatshirt off her body, ignoring the fact that she’s only wearing a sports bra below. She flings the material at Harry’s chest, and she hopes that it diverts his attention from her trembling lips and tear-filled eyes.

He sees everything, though. And without another word, he pivots on his foot, his back towards Nora as he enters the hallway and closes her door tightly, trying his hardest to ignore the sound of her crying through the heavy oak.

Nora should have expected it, in hindsight. But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

This time around, it’s not like Carter Donnelly. Instead of spreading rumors to their classmates, Harry says nothing—not even a lie to his friends, not even a subtle brag about how he was the first person to ever see Nora Priestley come undone—nothing. He keeps quiet, barely looks at her, and goes about his life the way he always has—as Townbridge’s Golden Boy, the prodigal son, who always gets whatever he wants.

And that’s what hurt the most.

Harry has enough pressure in his life—pressure from his father, pressure from his friends, pressure from fucking everybody who looks his way. It’s enough to break somebody in half, so succumbing to both is easier than fighting them.

So when his friends come back to campus and resume their lives the way they always have, Harry can’t help but follow suit. Because telling them that he spent the past ten days with Nora Priestley is simply not an option, even if they were the best ten days he’s ever had. And it’s a heartbreaking realization, because even though Harry doesn’t really care for his friends that much, he still doesn’t want to disappoint them.

Whenever he passes by Nora in the hallway, he doesn’t bother looking in her direction. When he can feel her gaze on his back in AP English, he doesn’t turn around. And when he sees her sitting at the table in the dining hall that they deemed their own for ten days, he doesn’t say anything. He just feels his heart freezing over until it’s an icy block inside of his chest.

And when he’s taking pictures with Alyssa at prom and notices Nora’s pretty blue dress that makes her eyes shine, he almost feels the ice crack. But then she looks at him, for only the briefest of moments, and in that minuscule period of time, he can see the disappointment and anger in her eyes, and it’s enough to make the ice harden.

Harry tries to convince himself that when he’s standing on stage with Alyssa with a plastic crown on his head, he doesn’t notice a flurry of blue exit through the front door. Because when he looks out in the crowd and sees an empty spot near Lydia and Margot that Nora once filled, he knows for sure that the flurry of blue was her. And halfway through his dance with Alyssa, when he’s looking at her strawberry-blonde hair and hazel eyes and makeup-filled face and expensive purple dress, Harry feels empty inside. Because he doesn’t want this anymore. He doesn’t want to be around her or his shitty friends anymore.

So he leaves.

But it’s too late—of course it’s too late. Because second chances don’t come to people like Harry, and it’s in Nora’s best interest for him to leave her alone. He’s caused enough hurt in her life, he’s done enough irreparable damage to last a lifetime.

During graduation, Harry tries his best to not look two rows ahead of him and stare at Nora in her red cap and gown. And when her name is called, he tries to ignore the singular cheer from the back of the Great Hall, the cacophonous finger whistle echoing off the walls following shortly after. He wonders if he’s the only person who can see the glimmer of pride in Nora’s eyes when she locates her mother in the back of the room. And when Alyssa scoffs under her breath from the row behind him, muttering a, “How fucking embarrassing,” to her friends, Harry turns around and tells her to fuck off.

As he’s stoically taking pictures with his mother and father in the quad after the ceremony, he sees Nora and her mother in his periphery. He’s never seen her look more beautiful than when she’s smiling with her mom, clinging to her so that they can share this moment together. And when he notices her mother’s matching blue eyes filled with pride, he looks at his own set of parents and wonders if they’ve ever looked at him like that before.

It’s almost enough to make the ice melt. But then his father is taking a business call and his mother is whisked away to talk about society functions with Alyssa’s mom, and Harry’s left standing there completely and utterly alone.

“That boy’s looking at you, Nora,” her mother says, eyes falling on somebody over Nora’s shoulder. “Do you know him?”

When Nora turns around and sees Harry standing there, green eyes full of hope and yearning and wonder, she doesn’t spare him a second look. Her head whips around just as quickly, looking at her mother with a small shake of her head.

“Nope, I don’t know him at all,” Nora says, meaning every word.

And when she drives away from Townbridge for the final time, she’s suddenly brimming with happiness at the fact that she’ll never have to see those people again. And more importantly, she’ll never have to see Harry Styles for as long as she lives.

*** A/N: When I started writing Fade, it sort of ended up playing out in three acts. So with that, this is officially the end of Act One (and officially my favorite chapter of the entire high school years.) Let me know your thoughts and predictions, my inbox is always open for those who want to scream at me. It’s probably going to happen a lot with this story. 

To make room for editing and ensuring I have enough written ahead of time for Act Two to keep with the weekly update schedule, (and because I sort of like the idea of separating things into acts because I’m annoying like that) I’ll be taking a week to sort everything out. Therefore, the next chapter and start of Act Two will be posted on Friday, March 12th. Until then, stay safe and be kind! x

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#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x ofc #harry styles x reader #1dff #1dffupdates #upcoming #harry styles imagines #fic: fade #she's a long one!!

[sweetsubharry]

hi! can you give me your hottest, dirtiest, filthiest bottom harry fics?

Hiya!! Yes I can! ^-^

Now there are 41 different fics under this list, so it’s quite long! Obviously what people find dirty/filthy can be a large range, so if you ever want to narrow it down just send another message like ‘no plot’ for example :) and then I can make it more suited to your taste if this one isn’t! I hope you enjoy this though love ❤

In case no one gets to the bottom of the page I’ll say it again here too! Please make sure to stay safe and read the tags!! ❤ ❤

you're my favorite ride by louislovesharry

no summary 

At Least As Deep As the Pacific Ocean (I wanna be yours) by babylouis

Louis can’t help but stop and watch him for a moment, how beautiful he looks, sprawled out on the bed, his cock red and hard against his tummy, collar snug against his neck and the bow still placed neatly in his curls to keep them back from Harry’s face.

His boy may be the most beautiful creature on the planet.

Especially tied up like this, body begging to be fucked. Begging to be destoryed.

or

Louis likes to push boundaries, and Harry takes what he gets. Lots of subspace Harry and fonding Louis ensues.

redder than the devil by mercutionotromeo

It's half past 9, and all Harry wants is for Louis to touch him. Preferably after a good spanking.

If you combine a lazy Saturday afternoon with a distracting, pouty Harry, you'll end up with Louis spanking his baby over his knee in the middle of a paused FIFA match.

Pretty please, take care of me ? by kurtcobain

Louis is stressed. Harry wants to help.

Step into the Light by Smolbeanandhisqween

Harry is on the set of his new music video "Lights Up". His husband, Louis, is watching him film the video. He gets jealous of all of the people touching Harry and teaches him a lesson.

Destroy Me, King by stylinsexualxo

After SNL, jealous Louis has a little surprise for Harry when he arrives home.

Can We Pretend (honestly reality bores me) by SadaVeniren

He felt Louis chuckle. “Dreaming of being my supportive, no-name boyfriend again?”

“Always,” Harry whispered. It was true. After all this time together there was no point in hiding any of his fantasies from Louis, no matter how innocent they were. So Louis was well aware of Harry’s desire to be anonymous sometimes - the “no-name” as Louis called him - loyal, a constant presence at Louis’ side.

aka Harry comes and supports Louis at his Scala concert

Let Me Be Good For You by onlyhuman for haroldtbh

His distress over the bun is nothing compared to the thrill Louis feels shoot up his spine at the outfit Harry’s donned. He’s changed into leather jeans that cling to his legs, hugging his thighs snugly. On top of it, a floaty, black sheer shirt is contouring his frame, doing absolutely nothing to hide his puffy nipples or the endless array of tattoos scattered across his torso. It’s Louis’ favourite outfit in the entire world.

Or, Niall's only birthday wish is to go clubbing with his boys in Vegas. Harry ruins it all by wearing that god forsaken black sheer shirt.

You Like Playing Games by orphan_account

Louis knows Harry likes to flirt and tease. Louis knows that he doesn’t particularly like when Harry flirts and teases. Louis knows that Harry knows that Louis doesn’t particularly like it.

But what Louis doesn’t quite know is why, despite that, Harry’s decided to grind against 5 Seconds of Summer’s Luke Hemmings during “Teenage Dirtbag” in the last show in Melbourne.

Basically pure smut.

Do Not Disturb (kiss me beneath the milky twilight) by SadaVeniren

“I was talking with Nick a couple months back and he was saying how our sex life seemed boring and we’d need to keep doing new and interesting things to keep it exciting or else we’d become boring and heterosexual and I defended us of course but then work picked up and we started living off of studio handjobs and missionary position sex in the dark and so I panicked. I googled BDSM and after looking into it I really want to try some of it because I think we’d enjoy it but we just don’t have the time.”

aka Harry doesn't want to become a boring old married couple a year into their relationship and tries to spice up their sex life.

Forgetting Frisco by iwillpaintasongforlou

Harry probably knew when he decided to wear that goddamn sheer shirt onstage in Toronto that it was going to drive Louis absolutely insane with want. He probably didn't know that Louis was going to proceed to fuck him so good he had flashbacks for years to come just like Frisco, but then again, you won't hear him complaining.

(Basically 6k of Louis worshipping Harry's body and doing it all in front of a mirror so Harry can worship, too.)

Mon Petit by coffinofachimera

Harry wears the 'Mon Petit' sweater while Louis records them on their private 

falling for you, i can't keep away by hegotthedagger plane

Harry wants Louis really bad and Louis might want him just as much.

Always In My Heart by sweaterpawstyles

The tweet itself was not startling at all. Harry saw people retweet it nearly every day for years now. It always made him smile to see how many people had retweeting Louis showing his love for Harry on that day.

What was startling was underneath where the fan had retweeted it, Harry saw the small number 1M written on it.

Harry froze, completely unable to move anything in his body. He knew Louis had the second most retweeted tweet of all time, but it reached a million retweets. One million people believed in Louis' love for Harry. Or AIMH hits 1 million & facetime sex ensues

You and Me by louisgrindsonharry

Harry and Louis have dabbled in the idea of BDSM but Harry finally wants to take it farther and Louis has to figure out how to take care of his boy.

they shake, you conquer (and I'm left to their devices) by butidontreallycare

smut. a little love for Harry's thighs, but mostly just smut. I am not ashamed

Daddy Came Home by RuinedBy5Guys

“You got yourself off.” He says quietly, his eyes locked on Harry’s. Harry’s face flushes and he tries to cover it, shoving himself towards Louis. He drops to his knees, leaning close between his husbands spread thighs. He puts his hands on his dress pants, carefully feeling the material at his knees.

“How did you know?” He asks quietly. Louis drops his face, grabbing over Harry’s hands with his own. Harry lowers his gaze, staring at the carpet underneath him.

“You were asleep. You always get tired after an orgasm. Not to mention how flushed you are.” He says quietly, raking his eyes over Harry’s body. Harry glances up at him, his actions becoming more clear to him now that Louis was home.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, dropping his eyes again.

“What was that?” Louis snaps, reaching to bring Harry’s face up again. Harry gulps, shuffling closer on his knees, the joints aching already.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.” Harry says, his green eyes locked on Louis’ blue ones. Louis smiles slightly, stroking his fingers over his husbands cheeks softly.

“Just gonna have to spank you now, aren’t I?”

OR... Harry teases and Daddy punishes him in the best ways possible

take me into your loving arms by blankiehxrry

twas the night of the brit awards

I Wanna Do What Bunnies Do With You by MoreThanTonight

“Lou.. Not here?” Harry pulled off with a gasp. “There are people in the next room. What if they hear us?“

“Then I guess you’ll just have to be quiet, won’t you, love?” Louis winked.

It's Harry's birthday and Louis wants to make it a birthday he won't forget. Louis is an art student, Harry is his boyfriend and muse.

if they find out, will it all go wrong? by blankiehxrry

madison square garden shenanigans

Happy Birthday by sleepingalone

“You wanna use that right now?” he asked incredulously, wondering how horny Louis must be. They had just fucked a few hours ago, before falling asleep. Surely he didn’t want to use it already.

“You said we had to wait till my birthday, and it’s my birthday,” Louis said cheekily, throwing Harry a small grin. Harry groaned into the pillow, burying his head in it.

“But I’m tired, Lou. I need my beauty rest.”

“I already undid the packaging,” Louis whined. “Please, can we just do it real quick? It would really make my day. My birthday,” he added. “You can go to sleep afterwards, Sleeping Beauty.”

or

Louis just really wants to use his new vibrating butt plug on Harry and turn him into a broken mess.

I Knew Right From the Beginning That You Would End Up Winning by aalexandravictoriaa

"I remember the first day I met you," Louis says, using his thumbs to make Harry open up to him even more. "I remember wanting to take you right there on the fucking street. I wanted to bend you over and bury myself in you over and over again. I couldn't then, but I'm going to now, baby. First with my tongue, then with my cock."

OR

Harry is Louis' favorite camboy and Louis becomes his Daddy.

In Motion by FictitiousFanatisch (orphan_account)

They'd only talked about it once a few weeks ago. Harry always liked it when Louis was in control and he said there was something about being denied constantly that made him even more turned on.

or

It's a lazy day and Harry wants Louis to edge him. (That's literally it.)

I'm Gonna Love You (Until You Hate me) by sweaterpawstyles

As if reading his mind, Louis glanced over his glasses at Harry, presumably because Harry didn't reply to his statement earlier.

"I decided to get my glasses out again," he chuckled, winking at Harry. "Do you like them?"

Harry felt his face heat up. No, he didn't just like them. He fucking loved them and wanted to ride Louis and call him daddy while he wore them. But he didn't want to just tell Louis this.

Or

Louis wears glasses and Harry doesn't like to be teased

I have often prayed for an angel by orphan_account

“Daddy,” he whines, voice already growing high in pitch. “Can I? Please?” “Of course angel,” Louis whispers fondly, hand tangling in Harry’s hair as he brushes it back. He loves Harry’s long strands, maybe even more than Harry does himself. “You look so beautiful on your knees like that, so eager to suck my cock.” “Mhm,” Harry hums, already licking at Louis’ slit. He begins to suckle softly at the head, peering up at Louis with wide eyes. The angel wings stretch on either side of him, and it’s so obscene, how filthy the act they’re doing is in contrast to the white feathers adorning Harry’s back. “Love your cock Daddy.” Or, the one in which Louis fucks Harry in the VS wings after he wears them onstage.

down and dirty, you're loving me so loud by orphan_account

Harry's finally twenty and there's a few things he wants.

feels so good getting what i want. by stylescantstop

Harry is a slutty yoga teacher with his sights set on Louis and Louis wants to pull that long hair of his while he fucks him really hard from behind.

Empyrean, You Fool by becauseitrhymes

Louis only realized it was actually happening once the reality of getting to carry boxes to his new flat settled in. He’d moved out of his parent’s just two days prior, with a stomach full of butterflies and no knowledge of how to do anything remotely adult, like, at all.

He’s only twenty-three years old, too, and he thinks he’s done pretty well for such a young age, considering he’s bought a flat with his money and had driven his car to get there and hadn’t cried (much) when leaving his parents. All in all, Louis thinks it’s pretty cool.

And then he’s sitting on his couch watching football in his lounge in his flat and hell yeah, it’s pretty cool.

AU where Louis moves next door to Harry, Louis falls in love with Harry, sex ensues.

Love Me Like You Do by sweaterpawstyles

Of all of the things Louis had imagined, never did he expect to become a chief editor for a magazine and to date the world-famous model Harry Styles. But he certainly never imagined one day that he would be anxiously awaiting a phone call from the top floor of an office building to tell the Harry Styles to get himself dolled up and ready to wait for his Daddy to come home before he got fucked into the mattress.

Or

Harry is a famous model and Louis is a quiet writer who may or may not be his Dom

A Hard Day's Work by louisruinedlife (orphan_account)

A bad day at work for Harry usually means turning in early. A bad day at work for Louis leads to something else entirely.

*Can be read as a stand alone.

the big idea by orphan_account

University students Harry and Zayn are filming a prank for YouTube that requires Harry to walk around campus asking random men if he could suck their dick. One of the guys, Louis, who agrees to such offer is too attractive for Harry to pass down.

He doesn't think its much of a prank anymore after that.

throw me in the deep end, watch me drown by orphan_account

“That's why you were late, eh?” he teases as Harry frantically tries to hide the dildos and the collar in the drawer. “Having too much fun to think about good ole Louis?”

“You were having fun too,” Harry replies weakly. Louis honestly has never seen a person be in such a shade of red.

“Yeah, but my fun didn't involve colourful dildos and nipple clamps.”

or the one where louis really needs to pass his a-levels and harry is his tutor who doesn’t really own a dog.

Give It To Me (I'm Worth It) by sweaterpawstyles

"Who the hell puts lube packets in their sock?"

"A boy who wanted to get fucked in the locker room by his daddy," Harry said innocently. "I have my good intentions, Lou."

or

Louis can't resist Harry in the red shorts that he wore during the James Corden skit. Featuring locker room sex.

don't let nobody touch it (unless that somebody's me) by stylescantstop

written for this prompt:

"louis knows Harry gets handsy when he's drunk, but that doesn't stop him from showing harry who he belongs to."

or the one where harry dances with other men and a jealous louis reminds him he's the only one who can make him come completely apart.

causing trouble up in hotel rooms (baby, I'm perfect) by felixandtae

A fan threw a Green Bay Packers crop top on stage and Harry kept it. We all know what happened after that.

sweet like cinnamon by brainwaves for SuburbanWarrior

It all started with bumping into Louis at Gemma’s mate’s wedding. Well, maybe it really started with Harry making heart eyes at the boy in jersey number 17 all those years ago. Now all he can think about is getting into Louis’ pants and maybe staying there for a really, really long time.

Or the one where Harry calls Louis daddy and it all spirals out of control from there.

Fulfilling Your Needs by unmeshed

“You want to be messy, baby? Filled with Daddy’s come? So much that you can barely hold it all in?"

Harry nods softly and Louis leans in to kiss him on the lips with a smile. “Want Daddy to plug you up after? Keep it inside of you all day?"

“Lou,” Harry whines, softly rubbing himself against his boyfriend, biting down on Louis’ bottom lip before he deepens the kiss, sneaking his tongue inside.

Louis’ll be damned if he can’t make Harry’s dreams come true.

or

Louis buys Harry an ejaculating dildo because Harry wants to feel full.

Like a Kitten by peaceloveandlarry

"Erm, I, uh, well, I think... I think you're really pretty, and I, um, I want to fuck you- I mean! Oh god. I- I want to go out? Yea! I want to go out."

Or Harry likes to wear kitten ears, and Louis happens to think Harry looks nice with them.

into another serotonin overflow by mercutionotromeo

Harry's the yearbook photographer who's been assigned to take pictures of Louis, the new captain of the football team. Harry's got a massive, obvious crush on Louis and somehow, Louis feels the same way.

Sweet first time sex wherein Harry's adorably awkward, Louis is achingly cool, and Harry rides Louis wearing his jersey.

need a little sweetness in my life by mercutionotromeo

Harry's always liked feeling desperate and small when Louis touches him, but when he sucks Harry off...it’s fucking otherworldly. Desperate’s not really the word at that point - it’s helpless. Like… like the fucking world could stop spinning and Harry wouldn’t be able to do anything about it until Louis finished him off with his lips and his tongue.

Or, Harry and Louis go to university together. Harry really likes it when Louis sucks him off, and Louis really likes it when Harry calls him Daddy.

(Sequel to "into another serotonin overflow")

Cheeky Princess by Noelle1224

Harry and panties. What more is there to explain?

I'm Tired Of Using Technology, I Need You Right In Front Of Me by Phillipa19

Louis goes away on yet another business trip, but when he stops calling Harry to check in, Harry decides to take matters into his own hands.

OR- Louis is Harry's sugardaddy who has gone away on business and Harry feels neglected. Louis is possessive and gets a camera installed in their bedroom so he can check up on Harry, so Harry decides to use the camera to his advantage.

Got A Lot You Wanna Show Off Baby by Phillipa19

Louis had been in meetings all day, he should have known that Harry wouldn't be ignored for much longer.

-OR-

Louis is Harry's sugardaddy and his younger boyfriend is definitely not happy being ignored whilst Louis holds meetings in his home office. There may also be Harry in lacy knickers involved.

As always please make sure to stay safe and read the tags!! ❤ ❤

#Larry Stylinson #fic rec #fanfiction #fanfic #larry fanfiction #larry stylinson fanfiction #larry fic #larry fic rec #larry fanfic rec #larry stylinson fic rec #bottom harry #top louis #sub harry #dom louis #smut #I'm probably going to hell for some of these #ask lots #Lottie fic rec

[fallingoverharrypotter]

If We Make It Through January 7th

Draco and Harry on the wrong side of the holiday season, making the gloom a little bit brighter. Also on AO3 here.

I’m barely through the front door of the place before I catch a glimpse of the man behind the counter and freeze up. Right there in the doorway.

A frustrated cough comes from behind me, and I hear a rude “excuse me.”

I swear. “Sorry,” I move out of their way, back onto the icy cobblestones: the patron flicks me an insincere smile as they hurry into the warmth of the bakery, and the door shuts in my face with a clang. The noise of the store, regular café sounds and music with it. That’s unfortunate, as Diagon still has Christmas jingles incessantly twinkling across the cold brick back and forth down the alley on this side of the new year, and that’s… only one part of the reason I want to enter.

Surely there are other places on Diagon that sell hot drinks and buns this late on a Wednesday. But… I know there aren’t. Even in muggle London.

Going home empty handed on Monday was one thing, but going home empty handed on Wednesday seems out of the question.

The cheerful drawings of smiling faces and steaming pastries on the glass are mocking me - there’s raucous noise of laughter just from the other side of the windows. I’m drawn up close and shivering in my winter robe, and it’s so cold that the warming charms keep wearing off. There are the sludgy remnants of snow on the cobbles, and I had to save myself from a couple of falls on the way down here. The blush on my cheeks is definitely from the embarrassment of the wobbles, but thankfully it’ll be passed off as the bite of the air. He probably won’t realise a difference anyway.

I take a deep breath, and go to reach for the door again, but then my hand stops, barely within my control. I close my eyes and try once more. Breathe deep, hand out to grasp the handle. I pretend not to think about whether any patrons of the bakery are staring at me through the glass. I hypothesise that if this takes me longer than five minutes, I’ll get an Auror called on me for drunk and disorderly, and wouldn’t that truly make my day.

Suddenly, it’s too much. I don’t even want to see his face. Wednesday pastries will just have to go without. It’s a silly tradition anyway. Surely if I’m ever allowed to forgo a habit, it would be as a new year’s resolution. It was his neurotic practice anyway. Probably one of those things I should toss out like I did all the rest of his stuff.

I take another deep breath and point my chin up, stare challengingly at one stupid smiling figure on the glass, and turn to make my way down to the other apparition point at the end of Diagon.

Stupid ex-boyfriends and stupid bleeding-heart holiday seasons. I manage to keep my feet reasonably stable as I walk down the almost icy path on this darker end of the street.

Unfortunately for me, however, a loud noise startles me and I completely wipe out.

A loud grunt expels itself from my chest as my back hits the ground. Thankfully my neck and head seem to be pretty well protected by the thick green scarf I’ve got wrapping me up, but my ass doesn’t fair all that well. “Fucking hell,” I mutter, and groan as I roll over onto my side. I wince when a sharp twinge in my back is set off with my movement.

Thankfully I’m not alone in my predicament, because the noise that startled me was an initial slick sharp sound of a slip against the icy cobbles. I tilt my head up and see heavy black boots, worn just slightly at the sole, and the figure of their owner, a man in amongst a mountain of sludgy snow that someone had just moved to the side instead of vanishing. I mutter to myself about the absolute travesty which is Diagon without proper foot traffic. People here get bloody careless this time of year.

I push myself up by my gloved hands, now soaked, along with the backside of my cloak. “Are you alright?” I half-heartedly direct to the man who I can hear angrily muttering to himself in his current position. I have to pay direct attention to getting my feet under me so that I don’t make another trip, but I do finally stabilise myself. I sigh crossly. My penance for getting so startled is that I don’t immediately get to grab my wand and dry myself off.

The man sighs too. His reply is muffled, but I think I can make out a “yep”. Charming.

He’s not moving though, so I huff out a breath impatiently and wander over to where he lies carelessly under an awning, face shadowed from Diagon’s twinkling lights. Good King Wenceslas chimes out of the charms on the street, and seems to mock me, and I have to force myself to think of how best to rectify this. I hope this guy isn’t drunk. Or maybe I hope he is, so that I can just call the aurors to deal with this.

“Are you pissed?” I ask, just to know.

“I wish.” Is his muffled reply. “Would be a bit less embarrassing if I were, I think.”

I roll my eyes. “Can you get up?”

“Yep.” He repeats, and then groans again as he pulls himself out of the soaking wet, dirty grey cushion, that is the snow bank.

My mouth drops open. “Potter?”

And, yep indeed. It’s Potter. He’s leaning back on gloved hands when he looks up at me quickly and then he groans. Throws his wet haired head back, and those green eyes look up at the awning like he’s berating whatever trickster god pulls his strings of fate. Or, so I assume.

He leans his weight on a single hand and stretches out the other in my direction.

For a second, I think he’s extended it so we can shake hands, before I realise that he just wants a hand up. I flush and hasten – carefully – over. A quick pull from my hand and he does the rest of the work, but he has to grab at my shoulders when he’s upright, a little wobbly.

He looks at me and grimaces. “I’m a danger to myself and others.” His hands release my shoulders, but only, it seems, to brush off bits of snow and dirt off of my coat.

I huff, my breath making a cloud of vapour in the space between us. “Well, I won’t disagree with you on that. Do you need me to go and get someone for you, or can you make your merry way to your reserved bed at Mungos?”

He laughs just a little. “It’s always a pleasure, Draco, honestly.” He’s joking, so I reserve the right to kick him until later. Maybe when he’s a bit less pathetic from the slip. “Are you okay?”

I scowl, and don’t answer his question. “It’s bloody 6pm on a Wednesday. In the middle of winter. After a snow storm. Who’s honestly buying wands this time of year?”

He smiles, winks slightly. “Gotta be made, don’t they?”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, I get it. You’re chained to your desk. A snowstorm fit for the arctic circle could blaze through here and you couldn’t be moved.”

He laughs. Harry laughs the same way he’s always laughed, and I blush just a little bit, as I’ve always done. I feel a shiver start to come upon me, but I keep it away by share force of will as he continues. “The new year is good for the thestral tail hair.” A dirty glove subconsciously comes up to rub at his wet hair, and he grimaces when he feels it. “Decay, new life, you know. The Death-horses and Winter going hand in hand.”

I smirk as he tentatively tries to rub his dirty glove off against a cleaner part of his cloak. “Cruel of them. Not taking the time to consider your plight.”

“Well,” he challenges, “I doubt it’s a major concern. It’s actually not every day that I slip and fall on the pavement. I survive my walks, mostly.”

“Well,” I answer, “I never slip or fall.” I raise a haughty eyebrow at him, and I can see the humour dust his eyes a little bit more. “Don’t go blaming me for this.”

He rolls his eyes and grimaces. “Why are we still so wet.” He flicks his hand and a wave of annoyingly familiar magic crests itself over my figure until the dirt and the moisture are driven right away. I flick a warming charm over him in thanks.

He seems to pay a bit more attention to his surroundings now that he’s dry and warm. “You just come from Finch-Fletchley’s? You mind reminding him that if the other shops are closed down for the holidays that it’s his job to vanish the snow after a blanketing?”

I avert my eyes, drawn to the bright lights of the bakery. I scowl. “You can tell him yourself, thank you very much.” I take a deep breath, and straighten my back. Keeping some decorum, hopefully. “We’ve broken up.”

Potter’s eyebrows are up when I glance quickly back to his face. He looks at me, and his face is very controlled. He looks at the bakery. “When?”

I swallow. “Week before Christmas, if you can believe.”

He can’t seem to stop himself from whistling sympathetically. Then he winces. “Sorry.”

I shrug, casually. “No matter.”

He snorts.

“I’m serious” I say, pointlessly.

He crosses his arms and looks hard at me. “Oh yeah? What are you doing here, then? Surely not too many muggleborns turning 11 around this time of year.”

Not to back down, and turn to face him properly and cross my own arms. “You know full well that’s not all I do, Potter.”

He rolls his eyes. “Like my point doesn’t still stand. What? You doing a lot of muggleborn house calls the week after new year’s?”

“Not every muggleborn celebrates Christmas and New Year’s.”

“Sure, technically. In reality, though?”

I turn away, and don’t answer his questions. He snorts, but then steps a little closer. We’re facing the bakery, because of course we are. O’ Holy Night plays above us. I wonder who chooses these songs.

I hear him take a deep breath in and out. “I really am sorry.”

I sigh, too. “It’s really not a big deal.”

“It’s only been two weeks, Draco.”

Two weeks and 5 days. If we’re counting. I don’t say this though.

He bumps my shoulder. “Not to pick at the wound, but what areyou really doing here.”

I consider lying to him again, but we’re not really in the business of doing that. It’d just be a bore. And he’s always been… good about things like this. “Christmas.” I swallow. “It gets lonely, you know.”

He hums.

I kick out at the ground with my foot and it slides a little bit too far, and I end up having to take a step forward to balance myself again – Potter grabs at my arm.

He laughs, a little anxiously. “Never slip and fall, huh?”

I ignore that, my face flushed and hot. “We had a tradition. Wednesday pastries at the bakery. I would assume it’s common decency to let someone know in advance if you’re going to break up with them. So that one can plan for these moments, right?” I close my eyes against the lights of Justin’s bakery, feeling unwelcome. “I apologise. I’m morose. It’s not exactly the post-holiday cheer I’m sure you want on a nice evening.”

He chuckles. “I wouldn’t call this a nice evening.” My warming charm wears off, and he flicks his wrist for another one to settle over us. He lets go of my upper arm, and puts a hand on my shoulder – drags me around a bit to face him. “Fuck him, right?”

I roll my eyes. “He’s not a bad guy, Potter.”

He rolls his eyes right back, and then looks quite serious. “Be a little indulgent with yourself sometimes, Draco.”

I look back at him. He’s only just shorter than me, and I’ve always cherished that fact, but now he almost seems to be towering over me, even with a bit of a slouch to his stand. His messy hair and his shadowed cheeks and under-eyes the likes of which I only really see during the summer break when I’m chaperoning muggle families and their muggleborn children to get their first wands before September. Working too hard. Chained to his desk.

“Do you want to have dinner with me?” I blurt out.

His eyes widen. So do mine. The heat in my face expands to a blaze, and I groan as I drop it into my cold gloves. “Merlin, I’m sorry. You just said the indulgent thing, and I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Hey, it’s fine.” He grabs at my wrists lightly and tugs a bit, but I don’t budge. “Draco.”

A clang mutely sounds from just up the street, the usual echo of the door in the cobbled street trapped by the snow. “Draco?” I hear, and look up. Startle, because that’s definitely Justin at the door, surrounded in the glow of the lighting. I take a step back almost without thought, and Harry’s grip on my wrist unfortunately makes me lose my balance. I go right down, and he follows. Right on top of me.

I groan loudly, my head and back and arse all once again wet and cold. Harry groans too, and his warm weight gets off me very quickly, tugging me up by my hands, and then a hand tight on my waist to right me. I don’t step out of his grip immediately, too overcome with the situation. Ready to take another crack at the cobbles and see if this time I brain myself.

“Hell, Draco,” Harry mutters, and then grabs his wand to get the wet and the dirt off the both of us again. Another of his beautiful warming charms settles over my body. “We’re even now, okay? No more falls, for god’s sake.”

Justin has wandered a bit closer by the time I look away from Harry’s face, a little consternated. “Draco? Are you okay? Merlin, what are you doing standing out here?”

I don’t respond. Harry coughs. “That’ll be me. I basically tripped him earlier, and we got talking.”

Justin’s eyes widen just a little, and he looks at Draco in concern. “In this weather? It’s freezing! I’ll grab you mug of spice cider, alright?”

“No,” I say, finally finding my bloody voice again. “No, I’m fine. And anyway.” I shoot a glance at Harry. “We’re tied one-for-one.” Harry smirks.

Justin continues when I look back to him. “Dray, come on. A cup of cider, a bite to eat.”

I shake my head, wanting this day to be done with already. “I’ve got plans.”

Justin eyes get just a little softer. “Come on, please?”

“He does. Have plans.” Potter says, and my neck twinges with how fast I turn to look at him. “We’re going to dinner.”

Justin goggles, just a little, looks between Harry and me. There’s a certain part of me – a different part to the one that’s processing whether or not Harry means what he said about dinner – that’s a little vindictively pleased about Justin’s reaction. “Oh!” Justin says. “Okay, no… No worries!” He meets my eyes, and I flush. “It was good to see you. Please, do come around. The staff miss you, you know.”

I smile politely. “Thanks, Justin.” I stand a little taller, and nod to him. “Take care.”

“You too.” And he grins kindly, lifting a hand to Harry and me, before hastening back into the warm sanctuary of his bakery. The door does its little muted clang again as it closes. My mouth – still sitting in a polite smile – relaxes, leaving a little pain in my cheeks.

Harry hums. “Do you ever think that we’re all a bit toomature now?”

Surprisingly, I laugh loudly at that. I’m nodding even before I get the words out. “Yes. I’d almost wish to be fifteen again and have a real proper tantrum about this.” I sigh, laugh a little again. “But, you know. Fifteen-year-old me? Good riddance.”

“I don’t know…” Harry trails off, “there were some redeeming qualities. He was certainly a creative sort.”

I goggle at him, and immediately stop when I realise that I’m imitating Justin to some extent. “Stop having me on.”

Harry… laughs. “Yeah, I’m having you on. You were a right bastard.”

I shake my head, and turn away from the lights of the bakery, and start walking. He’ll surely catch up.

“I was serious.” Harry says, and I turn my head a little to let him know I’m listening as I walk. “About dinner.”

“I assumed so,” even though that’s a bit of a lie.

“And,” Harry catches up. “I mean ‘dinner’ as in. A date.”

I’m not proud of this, but I slip. Just a little. “Fuck,” I say as I try to catch myself. Thank goodness that Potter’s a bit more onto it, though. He just grabs my arm, and an arm around my back. Straightens me up.

“Bloody hell, I should have talked to him about the snow vanishing,” Harry’s saying as I brush off my cloak to hide my flush. “It’s all the Diagon Business Association talks about during winter, I don’t know what he’s on-”

“Harry.”

He stops and looks at me. Christmas music is still playing, and its still grating, but goodness the lights work well on his complexion. And his eyes.

I smile, just a little. “We’ve got dinner plans, I thought? We could talk about this there, surely?”

He laughs.

#drarry fic #drarry #drarry fanfic #harry potter fanfic #this came out of nowhere and was supposed to be something much different before it became this #fluff #pure and simple #and god now all i want is to have 30k of Harry as wandmaker and Draco as the muggleborn liason #brining the little muggleborn kids and their families through Diagon before they go off to Hogwarts #and Harry and Draco learning to like each other through that #and falling kind of just #slowly for each other because of it #and Draco deserves a little date #as a treat

[descendantofthesparrow]

Interlude - Rewrite POYW- Harry Hook x reader - Part 7 - Plans coming together

=

-1 year and 11 months later(January 2019)-

Ben placed his hands on his hips and smiled, looking up at the large entrance doors to the newly appointed VK shelter. Everything was finished, from the kitchens to the smallest tile in the bathrooms. it was all ready, over 100 people were hired and ready to make food, repair damages if made, counselors, therapists, caretakers. Everything Ben could think of was implemented and ready to go. The CPS still had some paperwork to be approved and worked through, so Ben was looking at late July early August for the six new vks to be in Auradon.

Which would be six-seven months from now but, at least it was only six to seven months and not the 3 years it's been since he promised and started on getting more vks off the isle, including the start of production of the shelter and CPS system.

Ben pulled out his phone and smiled, in only a few days it would also be the 3rd anniversary of the first six vks arrival, they had arrived about two weeks before his birthday and his birthday was also the third anniversary of his time as king and his 18th birthday.

January had a lot to celebrate, didn’t it?

He knew the vks were planning something for him, and they were all keeping most of the information secret so they could surprise him. The only thing he knew was that Evie rented out a place for the party, invited Ben's closest friends that weren’t the vks. (Audrey, Jane, Doug, and Lonnie. Chad was invited too but Jay and Carlos told Ben about Chad’s very sus behavior about Ben when they told him about Bens capture on the isle so Ben was slightly wary of his old friend)

Ben had planned for a party for the 3rd anniversary of the original six vks arrivals for the vks but they wanted to wait until the next group came to Auradon, wanting to celebrate with their fellow villain kids. So Ben now mentally rescheduled the party to be in August, not knowing the exact date they would be getting the vks.

“We’re getting closer!” Ben couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he turned to see Mal walking towards him, her plum-colored shoulder-length hair in a low messy bun and wearing her favorite poison green jacket and purple and black dyed jeans. “Just a couple more months and we can finally get more kids off the isle” Ben hummed and looked back at the shelter, nodding to himself and tossing his arm over Mal's shoulder and leading her back towards the car where Luis, his chauffeur, was sitting in, waiting for them to be done looking over the building.

“Yep, I’m glad (y/n) and I were able to get the council to agree to us transferring kids twice a month, so it won't be as slow a process” Mal nodded along in agreement, remembering when (y/n), Evie, and Ben had emerged from the meeting room with shit-eating grins, telling Mal and the others that they had tricked the council into agreeing with their new terms.

“Yeah, twelve kids instead of only six a month, who knows maybe by next year we’ll already have most of the isle empty, other than the people that actually deserve to be there” Mal narrowed her eyes as her mind flashed to the thought of Captain Hook and Cruella, two of the cruelest parents on the isle “not a single kid deserves to be there a second longer”

“No they do not, but we need to do this carefully, I don’t want to risk anyone dangerous getting off the isle.” Mal nodded in agreement, stepping to the side as Ben opened the car door and let Mal slide in first, stepping in after her and closing the door, buckling up and nodding at Luis to head back to the castle.

Luis nodded and drove off, Mal and Ben continuing to talk quietly in the back. “So we’ll definitely have to have security guards, though last time we didn’t really need them?” Mal nodded again in agreement, remembering when Ben and the others had gone to grab Harry's sisters, the twins, Sammy and Dizzy, it had basically gone off without a hitch, but that might have been because of Harriet's crew acting as security for them.

“Yeah, we can see how the first one goes and if we see any sign of potential danger or someone trying to get out, we’ll get some guards to follow us to and from the side, maybe on bikes so they don’t have to do the whole getting in and out of the car. But we should probably wait on guards for a bit, having so many adults from Auradon that they don’t see regularly might make them antsy, I know I would be.” Ben nodded, they didn’t want to make the vks still on the isle think they didn’t trust them, so they might have to wait on guards at least for the first few pickups.

“Yeah, good idea” Ben sighed, slouching in his seat and looking out the car window, watching the forest go by as Luis drove back towards his castle. “still kinda sucks It's going to be at least another 6 months from now until we can even pick the kids but…at least somethings happening?” Mal placed her hand on Ben's shoulder and gave a reassuring smile.

“Hey, you’re doing your best, we all know that, the vks on the isle know that. It’s not your fault that the council is preventing you from doing what you want or need to do” Ben gave Mal a watery smile and leaned into her as she wrapped her arms around him for a moment before she pulled back.

“Thank you Mal” Ben murmured, sitting back up and unbuckling his seatbelt as the car pulled up to the castle and Luis pulled open the door, Ben and Mal slipping out and making their way into the castle, continuing to talk about the plans for the isle.

“VK day huh?” Ben chuckled, remembering Doug and Evie’s suggestion to make the selection days for the new vks a whole day for them, to let the children enjoy a day just for them. “That doesn't sound bad, if Evie wants, I can buy out that old abandoned warehouse downtown and you can all do whatever you want with it to make it like the party place, so you can have your own isle place in Auradon” Mal beamed, looking up at Ben with her eyes shining.

“That actually sounds cool! Yeah! Let's do that! I can spray paint the walls n stuff and-and Jay can-“ Ben let Mal ramble on as he pulled out his phone and texted Lumiere about the new plan, who quickly texted him back that he would take care of it.

Ben put his phone away and looked to Mal again, who was still rambling about the isle and the precautions they should take.

Ben grabbed her arm and led her to the garden balcony, where the rest of their friends were waiting. “Beasty boy~!” Harry cheered, Evie holding her arms out as Mal snapped out of her rambling and skipped toward her friend, halfway crawling into Evie's lap and snuggling into her, Evie giggling as Mal did so. “Yeh finally made it, and ‘ere I thought yeh got assassinated”

“I’m sure if I was you would be the first to know and avenge me” Ben smiled, sitting next to Carlos and Jay, picking up the plate full of fruit and taking a chunk of mango off the pile. Harry hummed and shrugged.

“Depends on who assassinated yeh, if it was (y/n)” Harry gestured to you, who was curled up next to him reading a book “I wouldn’t do a damn thing” Ben nodded in understanding.

“As you should” Doug and Lonnie looked at each other at Ben's nonchalant attitude towards Harry's morbid sense of humor, then shrugged. Over the last three years, the two had gotten used to the vks humor and way of interacting with the world so it hardly bothered them nowadays, especially when Ben reacted in a way that played along with the vks.

Harry took out his phone after it vibrated in his pocket and raised his brow, then laughed “CJ forgot why it's like spring in January” Ben laughed at that, shaking his head.

“Didn’t we tell her like, three times now?” (y/n) said from her spot, peeking over Harry's shoulder to look at the text from CJ.

“Aye, but yeh know ‘er, she forgets what she deems unimportant” Harry mumbled, texting back CJ with the answer to her question.

“Isn’t ‘January is charmed by FG to be spring weather for Ben’s birthday’ an important thing?” Lonnie asked, tossing marshmallows at Doug as he attempted to catch them in his mouth.

“You would think?” Harry snorted, pressing the send button and setting his phone on the table, leaning back in his seat and hiking his feet on the table, crossing his ankles and arms with a smirk “But CJ doesn’t think so apparently.”

Ben let out a small laugh, his eyes drifting over to Carlos, who was hunched over a small metallic object, wires poking out the top and sides, sparking as he messed with the object with a metal-tipped tool. “Carlos watcha’ doing?”

“Making a thing” was all he said, sniffing as a spark shot at his nose and burned him slightly, Evie leaning over and rubbing his nose as he leaned away from the object “um-project-high tech thing” Ben smiled as Carlos pushed Evie’s hand away gently, giving her a reassuring smile as he went back to his work “I’m tryna make a portable projector that can connect to my phone, I don’t feel like getting out my laptop every time Jay or Mal want to watch a movie but are too lazy to go sit on the couch to look at the tv”

“It's always so far away!!!” Mal justified her laziness, a pout on her lips as Ben and Evie gave her a look, a teasing smile on their faces. Carlos just pressed his lips together and Mal stuck her tongue out, pulling back as Carlos leaned forward and attempted to touch her tongue with the metal-tipped tool “hey!”

“Don’t stick your tongue out at me then! You all know I always have something electric on me, be annoying get shocked” Carlos cackled, spinning the tool between his fingers then getting back to work, Dude resting his face on Carlos’ leg and whining for attention from his favorite person. Jay leaned down to see Dude and picked him up, setting the dog on his lap and feeding Dude a slice of turkey.

Dude had long lost the ability to talk, the truth potion gummy Evie had made two and a half years ago wearing off soon after cotillion, for it was never intended to last longer than a day or two. Carlos was slightly relieved when it wore off, while it was nice to talk to Dude easily, Dude talked too easily and had been prone to reveal things Carlos and Jay hadn't really wanted to be revealed.

Besides, Carlos could still speak dog so it didn’t stop any communication between the two. Though the rest of the teens were relieved to be free of Dude’s sometimes badly timed jokes and begging for butt scratches.

Ben relaxed in his seat and sighed, enjoying a quiet moment with his friends as they ate and talked, pushing down a smile as he noticed Harry messing with (y/n)s ring finger on her left hand, she continued to only pay attention with her book, letting Harry do what he wanted.

Ben sighed again and closed his eyes, pushing back his hair on its back legs, feeling the charming spring breeze gently caress his face.

Only 8 more months till the awaited day, and there was so much that was going to happen in between it all.

His and Jays birthday this month, his 3rd anniversary being king, the 3rd anniversary of the original 6 vks arrival in Auradon, the applications being finally sent out in July, the cps set to be finally finished in May, most of the vks and aks graduation from Auradon prep in June, and Harry had something planned for (y/n) that he had only told his sisters and Ben so far.

And so much had happened before! Some of the group had turned 19 within the last year and we're beginning to find career paths in the world. Mal was looking at art collages to become a full-time freelance artist, Jay was looking at a professional tourney career and was looking at Sherwood Forest University for their tourney program, Evie was already deep into the fashion world, half of Auradon already wearing her brand and was designing a whole line for the upcoming spring, and Carlos already had an internship ready to go at Stark industries.

Harry was being scouted for multiple modeling jobs thanks to Evie hiring him as her model for almost three years now, (y/n) had a solid ‘at home’ job as a freelance digital artist, Lonnie was planning a temporary professional R.O.A.R career then joining the Chinese military to be at her mother's side as a general like her parents.

Doug was Evie's financer and personal assistant; Jane would be trained to become the next Fairy godmother so FG could retire. Audrey; he didn’t know exactly what she was doing but Ben heard from Chad that she was thinking of publishing her stories she had been writing for years now, Chad wasn’t planning for much, probably just going to live off his parent's money and live his life as a lavish prince (which no shame to Chad, Ben sometimes wished he could just chill with no worries about the world)

But all that wasn’t exactly something Ben had to worry about for a bit, right now he had nothing to do other than relax with his friends. He smiled as he heard Jane and Gil walk onto the garden balcony, the two separating as Gil sat next to Carlos and Jane next to (y/n). The two were temporarily broken up as Gil was now a legal adult at 18 (he was turning 19 in March) and Jane two years younger than him at 16. While no one, including Jane’s mother, had a problem with their relationship, the two decided to take a break until Jane was 18, if only because the two didn’t want any dirty looks from the old-fashioned Auradon folks.

Ben closed his eyes again and rested against his chair, ignoring Harry as the pirate began to balance oreos on Ben's exposed forehead, Mal snickering and helping Harry in his quest.

-one week later-

Ben stepped out of his car and walked into the jewelry shop, smiling as he saw Harry, CJ, and Harriet in the corner of the shop, Harry messing with his black-banded ruby ring with his fingers as he talked to the shop worker. “And her ring size?” the shop worker asked, holding out his hand as Harry handed him the ring.

“um-(ring size)” Harry offered, leaning on the counter and peeking over his shoulder as Ben stepped next to him and put his hand on Harry's shoulder. “Hey beasty”

“Hello, Harry” Ben hummed, a bright smile on his face as the shop owner looked over the ring and its band “getting it resized?”

“Aye, I've let (y/n) wear it before but it didn’t fit any of her fingers other than ‘er thumb, so” he gestured to the shop worker who started to sketch out the band design so he could copy it into the newly sized metal once made. Ben nodded and peered over Harry's shoulder to see CJ busying herself looking over the rings in the display box, Harriet's hand on her arm to prevent any thievery.

“Why bring them?” Harry looked at him through the corner of his eye.

“Harriet demanded ta come cuz it's our ma’s ring, an’ CJ threatened ta tell (y/n) about it if I didn’t bring ‘er” Ben winced, CJ did want Harry to marry (y/n) so ‘she could finally get a cool sister’ (which always resulted in a slap to the head from Harriet) but she was a brat and held the threat of telling (y/n) about Harry's plan over Harry's head to get what she wanted.

Harry turned back to the shop worker as he called Harry's attention, informing him of the time, price, and pick-up date of the ring resizing. Harry nodded and handed the shop worker his debit card, leaning on the counter as the shop worker walked off to go complete the transaction.

“Plus I wanted some family support” Harry muttered, a shy smile on his lips. Ben laughed softly and patted Harry’s back, rolling his shoulders and pulling down his plain sky-blue t-shirt as he looked around.

“When you thinking of asking?” Ben inquired, smiling as Harry bit his lip and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I dinne kae, we’ve already talked about the possibility of marriage, I wanted ta make sure she was okay with it and she's all for it, but I have no clue when or how I’m gonna ask ‘er” Ben patted Harry’s back again in sympathy, not really having any advice for the flustered Harry.

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out” Ben laughed, standing straight along with Harry as the shop worker returned with Harry's card and handed it to him.

“Thank you, Mr. Hook, it should be ready next month, we’ll give you a call about any updates and when it's finished. Thank you for coming to Doc's jewelry shop” Harry nodded and put his card in his wallet, nodding at Harriet as she grabbed CJ and dragged her out of the store following Harry and Ben, CJ pouting as she stared at the shiny rings.

“Ice cream” CJ demanded, wrenching herself out of Harriet's grip and looking up at Harry with a pout, but she was wearing Harry's hoodie, which almost encased her body completely and it made her much less threatening than she usually was with that ‘Hook’ glare on her face.

“I jus’ bought a fukin’ ring CJ, I ain't buying yeh nothing, yeh have money, use it” Harry snapped, glaring back down at his little sister as she puffed her cheeks and slapped his arm.

Ben laughed loudly and nodding his head towards the ice cream down towards the left end of the strip mall “Come on, I’ll buy” CJ cheered and raced towards the ice cream shop, Harry and Harriet giving the king a look of thanks as Ben trailed after CJ.

-end of part 7-

part 7 bbys~ yep, everything's coming together~ we officially getting to the timeline of D3 and interlude is finally in 2019 yall. and i knoooow Gil and Jane broke up, but while i don't have problem with age gaps, Gils 18, janes 16 (turning 17 that year but still) it looks a bit weird and while FG approves of their relationship the two decided it would be best to wait until Jane is a legal adult. anyway, yep, Harrys gonna propose...HAVE FUN WITH THAT!

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#Descendents #descendants #disney descendants #harry hook #harry hook descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook imagine #interlude #finale #rewrite #part of your world #shuffle playlist