#harry styles stuff

[lomllover]

from the dining table. | h.s |

summary: the one where a husband and wife fix their marriage.

warnings: angst, some possible sensitive topics.

pairings: harry styles x fem!reader

wc: 1772, they'll get longer dw :)

AUG. 2019

Manchester, England.

It was late at night when you heard the front door open and then close. “Baby, I’m home!” You heard your husband call out from downstairs.

“Up here in the bathroom, my love!” You called out to him.

Harry walked into the master bathroom and you set your toothbrush down and wiped your mouth on the towel that was hanging up. “Hi, lovie.” You hummed contently as he wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Hi.” He whispered back and pressed a kiss to your neck. “Missed you so much today.”

You smiled at him in the mirror. “I missed you too, wanna go to bed?”

JAN. 2022

Manchester, England.

You stare blankly at yourself in the mirror. No hands were wrapped around your waist, no chin on your shoulder, irking you to go to bed. The lighting in here is terrible, it makes your green undertones really show and your eyes look dull. You bend down to reach into the drawer to grab your curling iron and accidentally knock over his cologne. “Damn it.” Tears pierce your eyes as you stand back up with your curling iron.

You curl your hair into loose curls and finish getting ready. You grab your phone, keys, and purse from the dining table and head out the door and into your car. “It’s okay, todays the day you’re gonna start fixing your marriage.” You tell yourself in your rear view mirror before heading to the counselors office.

You arrive at the old building ‘Here To Help’ written on their sign with hearts and a stick family drawn on it. You take a deep breath before stepping out of your car. You look around the parking lot and don’t see His car parked anywhere. You fold your lips in and walk in the front door.

“Hello! Last name?” A cheerful lady at the front desk greets you.

You give her a half smile and lean on the counter in front of you. “Styles.”

The woman nods and hands you a clipboard with some paperwork attached to it and a pen. “Here you go, just fill this out and Dr. Melia will be out in just a few.”

“Great, thank you.” You sat down on one of the brown leather couches and started filling out the forms. It’s the normal stuff; phone number, social security numbers, address, etc.

Your leg bounced up and down as you kept glancing at the door waiting for him to come and when he finally did, you let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding in.

“Hey,” He said as he approached you. “Sorry I’m late, the meeting went long.”

You nodded slowly and stood up to take the clipboard back up to the front desk. “It’s fine, I just finished filling out the paperwork.” You took it to the nice lady and then returned to your seat.

Dr. Melia walked out into the waiting room and looked down at her clipboard to read off your names. “Y/N and Harry Styles?” She called out and you both stood up. “Hi, I’m Dr. Melia.”

“Hello.” You both said in unison and smiled.

She started walking and you both followed her. “Right this way and I’ll take you to my office.”

You walk down the hallway and make your way to a small office containing a couch, desk, and chair across from the couch. “Have a seat anywhere you’d like.” She let you both go in first and you sat down on the large red velvet couch.

“Well it’s really nice to meet you both,” She sat down in the chair. “I’ll just reintroduce myself quick and then we can get started; I’m Charlotte Melia and I’ll be helping you both get through whatever troubles you’ve been having. Please never be afraid to open up about something, this is a judge free zone and please don’t interrupt each other. The point of these sessions is to grow and listen. Any questions before we start today?”

You shake your head and twist your engagement and wedding rings on your finger out of anxiety.

“I don’t think so.” Harry said and started bouncing his leg up and down.

Charlotte grabs her clipboard and looks over it quickly. “Alright, let’s get started then. Let’s just start off with you both introducing yourselves, tell me a little about yourselves and give me some background, ‘kay?” She looks at you both and nods her head. “Let’s start with you first, Mr. Styles.”

“I’m Harry, I’m uh, twenty-nine years old, and I’m a singer.” He sighs and glances over at you. “And I uh, blame myself for this situation.”

“I’m Y/N Styles, I’m twenty-six, I’m an actress,” You could feel Harry staring at you. “And I think we’re both to blame for this.”

Charlotte nodded slowly. “Alright well again, it’s wonderful to meet you both. Is there any specific reason why you’re here today?”

“You’re a marriage counselor and you’re asking why-” Harry started to say.

“Mr. Styles, what I mean is what lead you to come here?” She interrupted him.

“Well I suggested it a couple of weeks ago on the phone while Harry was finishing his last show before getting a break on tour.” You spoke up and weaved your hands together. “We uh, lost our baby to S.I.D.S a couple of months ago and it’s just been really hard for the both of us.” You felt a lump in the back of your throat.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.. You’re still living together, correct?” She asked and you both nodded. “Great, what’s it like at home? Any affection, or communication? What does a normal day at home look like? Let’s start with Y/N.”

“Well,” You sighed. “There really isn’t much communication, there’s a lot of tension. When it comes to affection, it’s a lot of fake sympathetic words, or venerous gestures. I’m not blaming him though, it’s me as well. Some days are just long and hard and usually end up with one of us sleeping in a different room than the other.” You bite the inside of your cheek. “I just don’t feel as loved as I used to.”

She nodded. “You know, I see hundreds of couples and with all of them, losing a child really can tear a family apart.” She looked at your paper again. “You guys have been married for four years and together for six, there’s always a point in marriage where you’re past the honeymoon stage and past the ‘oh we’re going to grow old together’ stage, and to the stage where life really hits you and it’s not as easy as it seems. And I think you guys have been there for awhile.”

“I agree.” You comment. “But it’s worse, there’s no-no sympathy for each other.”

The room stays silent for a moment before Charlotte spoke up. “Mr. Styles, tell me about how you feel at home.”

“I agree with what she said but I feel like I’m being constantly judged by her and she can’t accept my work life. Both of us, we just… I don’t want her to leave me, it haunts me and I can’t lose her too. I’m willing to do anything to keep her in my life.”

“That’s totally understandable, Mr. Styles. I’m glad you’re willing to fix your marriage, it’s a good start,” She chuckled. “Not a lot of couples are willing to do that, I really appreciate it.”

You and Harry look at each other and you look down to your hands and then back to Charlotte. “Where do we start?”

“We’re going to start from square one. You’re both going to tell me how you met and be as precise as you can with your feelings.”

You opened your mouth to speak but Harry had beat you to it. “My point of view is much more interesting, lovie. Let me start?” He questioned and you nodded your head, a light smile appearing on your face.

“Let’s start with you then, Mr. Styles..”

OCT. 2015

You and your family were on a trip to the Bahamas, a place you’d always dreamed of going but never thought would happen because you didn’t have the most money growing up but since you started gaining more traction as an actress, the money started coming in and you wanted to do something for your family. 

You were at the beach with them, tanning when a very attractive young man and his four other friends sat their things next to yours and started messing around, getting sand all over you. "What the hell?" You said, taking off your sunglasses and looking at them.

"Woah, I'm so sorry, Miss. I swear I didn't see you laying there, is there anything I can do to make it up to you?" Harry rambled nervously.

"No.. it's fine." You sighed.

Ever since that interaction, you both saw each other more at the resort you were staying at and became a lot closer too and you two became inseparable.

"God, I really like her." Harry said one night to Niall. "She gave me her number.. Should I text her?"

"Mate.. Why would she give you her number if she didn't want you to text her?" Niall responded, raising a brow.

"Right.. You're right."

JAN. 2022

"Alright, Harry what were your first impressions of Y/N?" She questioned him.

"She was so perfect, and the sweetest thing ever," He shakes his head. "Definitely the most beautiful person I've ever laid my eyes on. When I saw her I couldn't look away from her, just her energy, her walk, and um.. her sexiness was what started it. Even though the band was going through some stuff, yeah, she still enchanted me."

You looked at Harry and smiled slightly.

"Okay.. You can continue."

-

OCT. 2015

"God, I really hope I'm not just making a fool out of myself." He whispered to himself as he approached you. "Hey, Y/N,"

"Hi, Harry."

"Would you like to go out on a date with me?"

"Took you long enough."

And with that, you guys were married within a couple years.

-----

a/n: here's pt 1!!! so excited for this series :))

[hstylestuff]

new era!!

[resisteverything]

You know what’s so sad about the whole real person queerbait discourse?

bbno$ had an interview where he was asked if he’d ever have sex with a dude and he said “I don’t know”, and said he’s kissed his male friends and he’s felt attracted to men but he’s never felt like a proper urge to have sex with a man.

People of course called this queer baiting because of course they fucking did.

But there’s something he said in this interview. That he’s gotten more comfortable with his sexuality, and 10-15 years ago he wouldn’t be comfortable talking like this due to the stigma.

It is only due to new social progress that he’s able to give this answer. That he has the space to not just say he’s straight. I’ve always said that you could not make ‘I kissed a girl’ as a dude, because a guy who made a hit song about kissing guys with a girl waiting at home, he would be pegged as a gay cheater”. And this is the same I think, back then he definitely would have just called himself straight because it’s easier and because of internalized homophobia, and it’s only due to social progress that he’s open to the possibility.

You would think “I have felt really attracted to dudes but have never felt the immediate (read: immediate as opposed to eventual) sexual desire.” would be enough of a confirmation that this person is not strictly straight. Like not “Think they’re attractive” but “Attracted to”. But apparently this is him baiting.

The fact that people are mad that this man finally feels comfortable with his sexuality, and okay being honest about his situation because it means they can’t get a straight answer out of him as to whether or not to call him queer, that’s awful.

But sure i’m a Harry Styles dick rider for not calling him straight.

[bluebirdharry]

Harry Styles performing with Stevie Nicks in Hyde Park 12/07

[dotssu3]

i hc that cunoesse gets super into fashion as a way to set herself apart from cuno (they are NOT twins!!!). i feel like she would look up to cindy for fashion inspo…

[maudie-duan]

Series Summary: For nearly two years, Harry has been fighting to keep his relationship with Olivia afloat. At what point does he make the choice to either endure or let the strain of the world defeat his ambitious hopes of a lasting relationship? Or will a single night and a fleeting encounter be enough to change the projection of Harry’s path? Maybe our ‘Mystery Girl,’ Shiloh, will happen to be in the right place at the right time. 

Pairing: FineLine!Harry x Fem!OC

Trope: Forbidden love x Star-Crossed Lovers

Tag List: Always Open!

@howling-wolf97 @sassamanda77 @babegoalsreads @palmettogal508 @indierockgirrl @lizsogolden @sexymfharriet @pologoonies

Warnings: ( Posted with each chapter)

Story Type: Series (Ongoing...)

(CH. 1) Part l

(CH. 2) Part ll

(CH. 3) The Unexpected

(CH. 4) Is There Guilt?

(CH. 5) The Podcast

(CH. 6) Drunk Dial

(CH. 7) The Last Time

(CH. 8) Wait, What?

(Ch. 9) Ever Since New York

(CH. 10) Text Me Back

A/N: You guys, this was my first series; bear with me. In no way, shape, or form is this meant to follow Harry’s actual life, nor are the facts or timelines real. This story will be from Harry and Shiloh’s POVs. I like switching between them. I’m nosy, and you get more details this way. So, if you like details, you’re in the right place. This story will be a slow burn, so hold tight. I’m glad you’re here!!! ENJOY!!!

Main Masterlist Here<-

[oksfranta]

and we danced all night🎶

[justlemmeadoreyou]

boyfriend!harry headcanons

-> Every day starts with Harry's sleepy face pressed into your neck, his breath tickling your ear as he mutters "good mornin', lovie." He steals kisses between yawns, his warm hand tracing patterns on your back until you're both giggling, tangled in the sheets.

-> He knows your perfect cup of coffee, the one that makes you smile like sunshine. He surprises you with it in bed, accompanied by a plate of fluffy pancakes or French toast, shaped into hearts, of course.

-> He pretends to scoff when you put on a chick flick, but you catch him stealing glances at the screen, his lips twitching with a suppressed smile. He hums along to the cheesy soundtrack, his voice husky and low, sending shivers down your spine.

-> One minute you're planning grocery shopping, the next he's whisking you away to a hidden beach for a sunset picnic, complete with a spontaneous bonfire and stargazing. He lives for creating memories that make your heart skip a beat.

-> He believes in you more than you believe in yourself. He cheers you on at work, celebrates your victories (big or small), and holds you tight when you doubt yourself. He whispers encouragement in your ear, his voice laced with unwavering faith.

-> He leaves little love notes tucked in your purse, on the fridge, even in the pages of your favorite book. He hides tiny trinkets for you to find – a seashell from your first beach trip, a vintage postcard with a romantic quote, a single, perfect rose.

-> He pulls out your chair at restaurants, opens doors, and insists on carrying your groceries. He walks on the outside of the sidewalk to shield you from the rain, and offers his jacket when you're cold. It's the little things that make your heart melt.

-> His hands wander under your shirt, sending goosebumps erupting on your skin. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear, promises of forever and endless love. He makes you feel like the only person in the world, cherished and adored.

-> He strums your favorite song on his guitar, his voice husky and soulful, just for you. He pulls you close, swaying to the rhythm, his gaze never leaving yours. He turns any room into a dance floor, his laughter echoing as you spin, lost in your own little world.

-> He's your rock, your confidant, your safe harbor. He listens without judgment, offers advice without pushing, and celebrates your individuality. He loves you for who you are, flaws and all, and that's the most beautiful love story of all.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

jealous!harry headcanons

let me know if you like this! you can tip me here!

please like and reblog, it may seem stupid but it actually helps a lot! ♡

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

taglist:@freedomfireflies @gurugirl @thechaoticjoy @styleslover-1994 @gem1712 @ellaorchard @bxbyysstuff @opheliaofficial07 @rafaaoli @tchlamqtsgf @the-mouse27 @indierockgirrl @vrittivsanghavi @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @drewrry @babyiamperfectforyou @me-undiscovered @tbsloneely @whoreonmondays @kathb59 @avalentina @kittenhere @speedywritingharrystylesjudge @mypolicemanharryyy @theendx888 @ladscarlett @daphnesutton

[myonlyangel13]

Can you do your favourite bots from other creators and their links🫶

I just want to say that there’s so many amazing and talented creators on c.ai and I’m sure that there’s more that I haven’t yet discovered🌷also please share your fav creators so we can get this “community” bigger!!

SOME of my fav bots rn🌸

🌷Calvin Klein shoot together

By @harrys-wifeyy

🌷Beautiful boy

By @chalmtloui

🌷COACHELLA

By @finelinemia

🌷Braiding his hair

By @merylittlefreak

🌷the night before

By @h4rrystyles09

🌷Easter egg hunt with your kids

By @c0wboylikeharry

🌷Planning spring break together

By @fratboyzayn

🌷He’s piercing his ears for your daughter

By @jlovescherry

Xoxo

[narrycherries]

(1) how’s one to know..

harry is just an ass and she is just a stranger — series introduction, bit of angst (8.6k)

(2) an incandescent glow

She just wanted to have a fun night out, but Harry has a tendency to ruin things.. — angst and sadness filled (10.9k)

(3) putting roots in my dreamland

Despite wishing he didn’t exist, she had no choice but to be around him.. — short but necessary angst for the story (8.4k)

(4) and now I’m covered in you..

She can’t seem to keep herself out of trouble and it irritates him more than it should. — a scary situation creates a lot of conflicting thoughts for both characters.. angst (14.3k)

(5) magnificently cursed

She can’t seem to ignore him and he’s rather observant of her.. - angst, little dramatic incident (11.4k)

(6) clover blooms in the fields

She needs help and he just so happens to be the only one available.. - little angst, more fluff (tw: does mention surgical procedures) (12.3k)

(7) crescent moon, coast is clear

She was struggling to let go of her worrying thoughts, but he was determined to help her through it. — there’s some angst & fluff (15.2k)

(8) he’s gonna burn this house to the ground

He has added insult to injury and she gives him one chance to make it right. — bit of angst lots of fluff and dialogue (17.5k)

(9) for moments that we stole

She was trying to figure out how to understand her own body, and he was attempting to help as much as he could.. — includes fluff, angst, hints of smut but not smut, & jealously.. (29.7k)

(10) on begged and borrowed time

She builds up her confidence and he takes care of, just as he promised he would.. — fluff, angst, and finally smut (26.7k)

this series is loosely inspired by the song “ivy” by taylor swift

more pics // more pics (2) // more pics (3)

part 8 teaser post (with photos)

part 9 teaser post (with photos)

part 10 teaser post (with photos)

‧₊˚ playlist ‧₊˚

(just a few songs that inspired this series & what I listen to while writing it :: these are my music preferences so if you don’t like them.. don’t listen) •••slight spoilers so be aware/you can skip over this•••

ivy - taylor swift

lie to girls - sabrina carpenter

my boy only breaks his favorite toys - taylor swift

norman fucking rockwell- lana del rey

right now - one direction

souvenir - selena gomez

something in the way - nirvana

fine line - harry styles

guilty as sin - taylor swift

cinnamon girl - lana del rey

brain stew- greenday

the next best american record - lana del rey

dancing with our hands tied - taylor swift

lips of an angel - hinder

tonight - zayn

small talk - niall horan

iris - goo goo dolls

so it goes - taylor swift

stay over - tove lo

love is a wild thing - kacey musgraves

false god - taylor swift

little freak - harry styles

crimson and clover - joan jett (& the blackhearts)

I can fix him (no really I can) - taylor swift

get stoned - hinder

angel - kacey musgraves

there you are - zayn

nobody gets me - sza

alone - heart

cardigan - taylor swift

lover of mine - 5sos

mateo- tove lo

strong - one direction

[lomllover]

you guys aren’t ready for this one 😋😋

[writingsfromhome]

Impossibly Real

A/N: cute little story about being in a rough dating world and having a nice neighbour friend.

Part 2

———————————————————

I memorize the face on my phone whilst standing in the middle of my building lobby. I study it as if I hadn’t been staring at his pictures since we both swiped right a couple weeks ago.

“Hot date?” A voice calls out. I look up to the source—one of my neighbours with takeaway in one hand and a case of beer in the other. The smell of his dinner makes my stomach rumble—I’d skipped dinner myself for this 8pm date.

“A very hot date,” I respond. Harry was one of the first people I’d interacted with when I moved to this complex a year and a half ago. He’d helped me move my boxed mattress in and I thanked him with a lukewarm beer. Ever since, we’d pick up on conversation every time we saw each other.

Most of those times were when we’d both be rushing out to work in the morning. Sometimes he’d walk to the tube with me, both of us going in opposite directions. Other times his girlfriend would pick him up.

“Let’s see,” he switches his beer to the other hand and holds his hand out.

I pretend to open the app and look for my date’s profile as if it hadn’t been open for the last three hours. He makes a sound of approval when I pass it over.

“Right?” I grin as he scans the profile.

I wasn’t always lucky in love. When Harry first met me I was fresh out of a 3 year relationship, and the only things to follow were bad dates and lonely nights.

“Likes pizza?” Harry says like he’d just caught sight of the guy’s private pictures.

“Yeah? So what?” I feel my defences go up. “Who doesn’t?”

“Yeah but that’s so…basic.” He hands the phone back. “That’s like saying ‘Drinks tea’ or ‘breathes air’.”

“No it’s not!” I wanted this to be a good one so badly, I wouldn’t hear any of Harry’s slander. “It’s relatable, and shows he’s down to earth.”

Harry groans. “Remind me what you do for work?”

I squint at him, unsure where he was going with his. “Analyst.”

“Ah,” he switches his beer back to his other hand and it snaps me out of the moment. I always lost track of time talking to Harry and this couldn’t be one of those times. I had somewhere to be!

“Ah what?” I glance at the door.

“As an analyst you’re used to reading into things-“

“Piss off!” I shut him down. “I’m leaving now.”

“I’m joking!” Harry calls out. “I’m sure he’s a great guy.”

I don’t respond to him as I walk away but he calls out my name.

“You look great, it’ll be a good date.”

“Fingers crossed,” I echo. “Enjoy your night.”

I find a taxi quickly and sit on my hands the whole way there so I don’t pick at my nails. There was no such thing as out of my league, I remind myself. He was just going to be a guy. A good looking guy.

***

“I’m getting a bit tipsy,” Dave admits. It was half past 9 and we’d had 5 drinks total, one of those being a nervous shot when he hadn’t showed up in the first ten minutes.

“We should get something to eat!” I suggest.

He grimaces. “It’s a bit overpriced in here.”

Oh. He was cheap.

That was rude. I snap out of my darkening thoughts. I couldn’t help it: not only was Dave late, he looked 5 years older than his pictures, which wasn’t a bad thing, but he was also 5 inches shorter than his profile stated.

It was awkward when he came in and I got up to hug him. I’d worn my 3 inch heels expecting to still come to his chest but we’d met at eye level instead. I didn’t want to make it awkward so I had sat down quickly. I regretted wearing these heels. They were chaffing against my feet even whilst sitting.

And the whole evening had been stiff conversation, like rubbing sandpaper against itself. It had ended in a dull evening. He was cute. That was all he had going for him.

“There’s a really good pizza place around here!” I say casually, like I hadn’t Googled the vicinity for an hour after we’d made plans. “I heard it was rated top 10 in the city.

His grimace comes back, it made him more unattractive the more he did it.

“I can go for some chips. There’s probably one down the road, you alright for a walk?”

“Great!” Maybe some fresh air and a change of scenery could spice the night up.

He pays the bill—maybe he wasn’t so cheap, I think. That is until we get to the chips shop and he hangs back for me to order for us. And pay.

I can already imagine retelling this date to my girl friends. They were all engaged or married so my dating stories were always amusing content for our hangouts.

Crossing from 20 to 30 made the stories more tragic than amusing, but I lived to laugh and that’s what I usually did after getting over bad dates like this one.

“It’s a nice night,” Dave says when we get our chips. He douses his in ketchup like a toddler would. Gah!

“It is…”

“Let’s take these outside.”

I’d rather not, with my heels digging into the backs of my feet and the blisters chafing against the fake leather. But I agree.

“So what’s with the pink?” He asks randomly.

“What?” I say over a mouthful of chip. I didn’t care how disgusting I was at this point. He’d done the bill-for-a-bill thing without asking and I’d lost any hope I had for the evening. I may as well be gross.

“The pink, you’ve got it at the bottoms of your hair and your earrings, your lips and your skirt and your heels-“

“I like pink.”

“That’s obvious,” he says dryly. “Is there a story behind it or something? Usually only schoolgirls wear their favourite colour that much.”

And usually only younger boys have fries with they ketchup rather ketchup with their fries, I want to say. But I keep my mouth shut.

“I think it’s overrated that getting older means getting all serious and boring. Pink’s my favourite colour and the world can know it. Be brighter for knowing it too.”

I keep my tone light yet Dave seems to takes my personal philosophy as a direct attack.

“But it’s a bit juvenile isn’t it? You don’t have to be boring just because you’re an adult but no one’s going to take you much seriously all dressed in pink. It’s a bit childish.”

“Not childish enough for you to want to go on a date with me,” I say. My pink hair was on display in my profile as well as many pink outfits throughout my linked Instagram. I know he’d seen it.

“That’s not what I’m talking about, not like that.” He backtracks. His face turns my favourite colour, even in the dark.

“When grown men are obsessed with Star Wars or Lord of the Rings or whatever, nobody bats an eye. They show up with fictional characters on their shirt and tattooed on their arms and it’s all dandy. But you think the world’s going to take me less seriously because I wear a lot of pink?”

“Okay I think there’s been a misunderstanding here.” Dave backs down like I knew he would. I’d known too many boys like him, who charged up when they thought they had an ounce of intellect over me. Reciprocate with even an ounce of assertive energy and they back down like a well-trained dog.

This night was tragic. My hopes up for nothing. And my feet were blistered for no damn reason.

“I think we’ve understood each other just fine.” I wipe my hands on a napkin and toss the rest of my chips away, ignoring the look Dave gives me. “It was a night, I’m going to head home now.”

“Look I-“

“Goodnight.” I walk away. I had no idea what direction but as long as I can end the night with the hope-zapper Dave.

***

On the lift up to my flat I look at myself in the mirror. Dead eyes, flushed and puffy face from the alcohol, and my hair was voluminous from the windy night air. I couldn’t wait to get to my flat and take my stupid heels off. They were so painful they’d now actually gone numb.

My phone rings as I get to my door. Dave. The nerve of that guy!

I put it on silent and fish out my keys but my phone buzzes a second time and I drop them.

“Fuck!” I say just as the door behind me opens.

“Woah!” Harry steps back into his flat after nearly tripping over my crouched figure.

“Ugh sorry,” I stand back up, keys looped around my finger.

“You’re back early.” Harry slowly eyes me from top to bottom. It makes my stomach feel like a washing machine on high. “Nice night with pizza guy?”

“Pizza guy was just like the others.”

I lean against my door and ignore my phone that’s now gone off for the third time in my purse.

“Fair enough. He did say he likes pizza.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” I whine. “I just wasted £30 on shite company.”

“Can I offer you a beer or have you had too many?”

I look down at my watch. It was half past 10, and I had work tomorrow but life was short and I was miserable so I follow Harry in.

“I’ll just toss this later.”

It’s only then I realize Harry had a trash bag in his hands and he was in his boxers and a robe. He rests the bag near his door and motions to the fridge as he walks down his hall. “Grab me one too?”

I’d been in Harry’s flat a few time, once when I baked too many sugar cookies for Christmas and he invited me in to eat with him. Another time when he was having a birthday party. I had thought it was cute his friends had done that for him old school. The last time was when my wifi stopped working one weekend and I had to ask him to use his. That was a nice day, both of us were going through busy season and had worked side by side on our laptops until Harry announced we were losers and should stop working to get dinner and watch a movie. That was one of my favourite days living in this complex so far.

I’m still standing in his kitchen when he comes out with sweatpants.

“Why are you still standing there?”

I look down at my shoes and so does he.

“Don’t you want to take those off?” Harry lifts one brow, confused.

“I’m scared.” I say. I didn’t know what I’d find. I felt like I was standing in a pool of blood.

“Why?” Harry was lucky he didn’t know the fear of taking off awful shoes after a long day of breaking them in. Men were lucky that way.

I shift my heel away from the back of the shoe and pain shoots up. It sounds sticky. I whimper. “Can you get me a chair?”

“What did you wear?” Harry’s staring at them with a mixture of fear and confusion. He carries one of his dining chairs to me. “Those are like, torture heels.”

“Tonight was torture.” I sit down and cross my foot over my knee. I take a deep breath. Harry hovers above me not able to look away. “Here goes nothing.”

I pry the shoe away and nearly cry.

“Oh my god!” Harry shouts. “Yo-you’re bleeding! What the f-“

“Oh my god,” I was dripping onto his floor. “Can I get-“

“Tissue!” Harry’s already throwing me his roll but I knock it away.

“I need help. Getting. To the bathroom.”

“Right right.” Harry kicks my shoe away and leans down so I can wrap my arm around his shoulder. I feel like an injured football player but so much more pathetic as I limp to his bathroom.

He sets me down on his toilet seat and blasts the tub with water.

“Sorry,” I limp to the edge of his bathtub and swing myself so that my feet dangle in. “I didn’t mean to intrude on your night.”

“I’m glad you did,” Harry’s voice still carries a hint of shock. “What is wrong with you? That’s diabolical you wearing shoes like that! What’s wrong with trainers? Or sandals? Don’t girls like strap sandals?”

“It just comes with being a woman okay?” I couldn’t answer all his questions. “I still need to take off the other one.”

I was more scared for my right foot than my left.

“Just…deal with that.”

Harry’s tub is filling with water and it stings everywhere it touches my foot. But especially my heel and all of my toes. I switch the knob to cold.

“Okay,” I take a deep breath. “The other fucking shoe.”

I can feel Harry peering over my shoulder. This one feels glued on and I squeal as I comes off. My foot looked like a bruised and crusted mess.

“Holy sh-“ Harry whispers. I dunk it fast in the running water and nearly topple backwards but Harry catches me with his knee and then stays there so I have somewhere to lean. It was nice.

“Bloody hell,” I swear as my feet sting and paint the water pink. “Genuinely so sorry about this.”

“Don’t be.” Harry shakes his head. “But please toss those shoes in the bin and never wear something like that again.”

“That’s impossible.”

“It’s not. It’s very possible.”

“I love heels! I just need to break these in.”

“They’re breaking you love.”

I feel him stiffen behind me which makes me suddenly self-conscious. I didn’t really read into his words, love was just a term of affection used around my friends. But apparently it wasn’t something Harry used lightly.

“They are. These ones are going in the bin, DNA and all.” I try to continue casually. This was so weird. Weirder than it needed to be given Harry and I were mates at most; I’d met his girlfriend, I didn’t think of him anything more than a neighbourhood friend. We certainly hadn’t hung out outside our flats before.

“Maybe burn them to be sure,” Harry finally responds. His voice is a bit rougher than before. “Don’t want to get accidentally framed with the free DNA.”

“I’m pretty sure I’d be too obvious a murderer to commit anything stealthily. They’d identify the pink-haired giant walking away.”

“You’re not a giant. You’re not even 6 feet.”

“I’m nearly 5’9 which is tall enough for a woman.”

“I don’t think so.” Harry brushes my hair behind my shoulder and a shiver runs up my spine. Maybe I should turn the icy water off. “Plus I like the pink. Makes you more interesting to look at.”

“So I’m not interesting to look at regularly?” I tease. I look up at him and the back of my head hits his thigh.

I see his adam’s apple bob and I suddenly feel vulnerable sitting here like this. I lean forward so my feet are steadied against the tub which is agonizing for my bloody feet but at least I wasn’t leaning against him.

“I said more interesting.”

The room grows quiet and I try not to read into it. Harry thought I was interesting to look at. Okay.

I turn the tap off and the silence in the room becomes unbearable.

“Have you got any plasters?” I turn inch by inch so I don’t slip on the lip of the tub or need more help from Harry. The energy in here was weird and him touching me was going to make it weirder.

“Yeah,” he’s eager to leave only to come back laughing. “They’re actually here. I…”

He opens a drawer and pulls a box out along with a tiny vial.

I take it from him, some sort of ointment oil. Why not.

“Motherf-“ I bite my lip as the ointment stings my cuts. “Why wouldn’t you warn me!”

Harry laughs again and it eases the tension a little. “I thought you knew it would burn!”

“I don’t treat cuts often jeez!”

“Sorry! That friend—you met him at my party, black curly hair, the one who does custom stuff?”

“Oh yeah I remember.”

“I helped him out one summer. I had to hand cut all these signs using one of those exacto blades? Cut my hands up so many times I had to buy something for them after one of them got infected.”

I wrinkle my nose at the idea of an infected cut and douse my other foot in the oil, swearing as I take the pain.

“I have a roll and cotton if you want to bandage your foot?” Harry suggests. “I don’t know if regular plasters cut it.”

“That’s so dramatic,” I usually stuck a couple plasters on and got on with it. But this was also the worst I’d ever had with breaking shoes in.

“Let me-“

“No!” I push Harry’s shoulder away as he leans down with the roll of bandage he’d procured. “Harry do not touch my foot!”

“I’ve dressed grosser,” he holds my heel gently and I try to yank it away again without falling into the tub but it’s impossible. I settle for pushing him away.

“Harry please! I’ve intruded enough stop touching my disgusting foot!”

“I’ve seen you wash it. It’s not disgusting, just bloody. Now stop squirming about!”

“Why are you…” I trail away because he wasn’t listening. He dabs my foot with a cotton pad and then begins the process of bandaging my heel and then my toe. I try not to squirm at how embarrassing this was.

Harry’s gentle and attentive as he moves on to the other foot which should make me feel okay but only adds to the humiliation. We were so not close enough to do this—I don’t even know if I’d do the same for him.

Another part of me knows I would. Despite knowing him in passing, plus a few solid occasions, I could tell Harry was one of the good guys. He was always chivalrous around the building, friendly in any interaction I’d seen with him, loved enough to be thrown a surprise birthday party, and caring enough to always ask about how I was doing. And to do this.

When he glances up I don’t expect it. Our gazes clash and the weird energy from before creeps in again.

“Sorted,” he lets my foot down gently.

“Harry I owe you like…a massive dinner, and drinks are on me forever forward.”

“That’s not necessary,” he chuckles as he puts his little first aid kit back. “Just don’t wear heels like that again please. It’s not worth it.”

“They’re so pretty though,” I sigh. They’re now discarded on the tiled floor, the insides bloody.

“Let’s get you that beer,” he holds a hand out.

“I can’t. I’ve kept you late and you probably-“

“One beer.”

“I don’t want to intrude-“

“Just one,” his tone is gentle but he’s not taking no for an answer.

“Fine!” I admit defeat. He helps me up and together I limp to his couch.

We sit in silence for a bit while we drink. I don’t know what he’s thinking about, but the events of the evening play in my head.

“He actually insulted me.” I blurt. Before he can ask questions I explain. “Firstly he was late, then he was droning on and on about shit I don’t even remember anymore. Then he was cheap about food, but because he paid for drinks he got me to pay for chips. Then he said I wear too much pink and nobody would take me seriously as an adult. That it was childish.”

“Really?” Harry leans forward from his end of the couch. “He said all that?”

“Yeah! I said men are allowed to wear their Star Wars shirts and Lord of the Rings bullshite. And when a woman wears more than one article of pink she’s childish?”

“What a prick.”

“I know!”

“You’re too good for someone like that.”

“Thank you,” I sit back, seen and validated.

“The pink makes you cool, stand out in a crowd. He’s just blind to look at you and think that. Or he’s just intimidated.”

“Oh yeah he lied about his height! So I stood there in those stupid pink heels taller than him.”

“That must have got him,” Harry grins. “I actually love that story.”

His words warm me.

“You’re so nice Harry,” I tell him. “Honestly you’re like a gem of a guy.”

“I’m not that nice-“

“Don’t tell me you’re a bad boy or something because you’re a solid good guy. Rare. Never change.”

“Hmph,” he clears his throat.

“Your girlfriend’s lucky. A lot of us have to put up with trolls before we find a good guy like you.”

Harry stays silent. Maybe I’d said too much. Maybe I should stop drinking.

“We broke up. Wasn’t good enough for her.”

Shite. Blistered, bloody, bandaged foot directly in mouth..

“I-I’m sorry. To hear that! Oh my god yeah I guess I haven’t seen her in a while-“

“Yeah been a few months now. I’m mostly over it.”

“How long were you two dating again?”

“Almost 3,” Harry twists his mouth to the side. I’d never seen him look bitter before. “I accepted it, the end of us. Until I hear from a friend she jumped right into another relationship. So…that must have been behind the scenes near the end of our relationship.”

Bitter indeed. “That’s a shitty way to find out too.”

“I wish she was just honest. Y’know like, I met someone else whatever. At least that way I took the hit at once and then got over it. Instead after a month of moving on I just got punched all over again.”

“That’s a dick move.” I agree. “I’ve seen you so many times the last few months why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugs, “I didn’t want to bring down the mood. Felt too loaded for a conversation on the lift.”

“You could have saved it for a walking-to-the-tube conversation?”

“Then just part ways after dropping that on you?”

“Isn’t that perfect?” I tease and he covers his face. I change the subject. “My 3.5 year relationship ended when he said he didn’t see me as marriage material.”

“I thought it was a mutual breakup?” Harry asks. I’m surprised he remembers what I told him when I first moved in.

“I lied. I didn’t want you to see me as your pathetically lonely neighbour.”

He laughs at that. At least I’d gotten a smile back on his face. “I thought it was a bit suspicious but I didn’t push it. Every time I saw you when you first moved in it always looked like you cried.”

“Oh my god!” I cover my face. “Don’t tell me that! That’s so embarrassing!”

It was true. I cried for three weeks straight after the breakup but I also thought I was sly enough to get around unnoticed.

“It’s not a big deal! I used to worry about you.”

“That’s another thing that’ll keep me up at night now—but see that’s sweet! You barely knew me and you worried. Like! You were raised right.”

“Sure,” he smiles my way with a laugh in his eyes. He was enjoying making me squirm but it’s this smile, one I’d never seen before directed at me, that made me squirm the most.

“Okay now stop being sweet and kick me out.” I gingerly stand and suck up the fresh pain that comes back.

“You can stay as long a-“

“Harry.” I look at him seriously. “I know we both work demanding jobs, and that’s what we have to do tomorrow morning. It’s past midnight and I should go.”

He sighs and gets up to help me hobble to his door.

“Good thing I live next door—oh my shoes. They’re in your-“

“I’ll get them to you later.” He promises.

“You just want to try them on in private.” I tease as he opens his door. He waits while I fish through my purse again for my keys. I remember then the missed calls from Dave—that feels so long ago.

“I like my feet whole.” He chuckles. “Plus I’m tall enough.”

“Some girls think 6 feet is short.”

“How do you know I’m 6 feet?”

I turn my key and let my door swing open.

“I’m good at telling heights.”

“What’s your secret?”

“Well,” I turn back to him and put my hand on my head. “I get my height and then just measure against the person. I gauge the inches which if I’m close enough-“ Harry moved closer to me so there’s only a few inches between us. “Uhm. If I’m close enough it’s easy to count up or down.”

“So you count up-“

“Three or so inches.” I look up, determined to meet his eye. It was just Harry. I didn’t need to feel weird around my neighbour Harry.

But I can’t look away. I never noticed the depth of his eyes; they’re mesmerizing and I can’t look away.

“It’s a neat party trick.” He says so low, but we’re so close it’s loud as hell to my ears. Or maybe that’s the blood rushing through my head.

“Don’t really go to enough parties to turn it into a trick.” My voice comes out squeaky and I clear my throat. “Mostly useful to compare a dating profile to the real thing.”

“Hm,” he hums. His fingers toy with the pinks of my hair before draping it behind my shoulder.

“I should go.” I say for the millionth time.

He looks at me again and I forget why I should go. His gaze drops to my lips and I feel hot—hotter than the pain on my bloody feet.

“You’re the real thing.”

It’s unconscious, the way I arch up to him. It’s natural, the way he meets me halfway. It’s unforgettable, the way his soft lips feel on mine.

Until I lean my weight on my toes and I’m reminded of my broken feet, this evening, and who I was kissing.

I couldn’t be kissing my neighbour! I saw him nearly every damn day!

“Har-“ I push gently at his chest and he’s quick to move back.

“Sorry I-that-“

“No I’m sorry that was me-“

“We should…”

“Yeah.” I grasp behind my back until my hand touches my doorframe. “Um…thanks for everything. Tonight.”

“Yeah.” Harry’s flushed and somehow more attractive than I’ve ever noticed. He also has a smidge of pink lipstick at the corner of his mouth but I file that away for later. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight!” I turn and quickly close my door, knowing Harry was not going to be the first to leave. Despite my head telling me not to, I turn and peep through the peephole. He’s still leaning against his doorframe, head bowed, running his hand through his hair. I watch him mutter something and then go in. I stay there until the automatic light switches off and then sink to the floor.

Harry. Friendly, funny, neighbour Harry. He’d dressed my bloody feet, served me beer, and then kissed me.

I touch my lips. I wasn’t even mad about it. This was going to be complicated no doubt, but it wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

***

I manage to avoid Harry for a week. Which is a pretty impressive feat given our doors nearly open onto each others.

But he catches me on the lift after work one day. There’s already two others beside me and Harry nearly misses the lift, slipping in just as it’s closing. He does a double take when he sees me.

“Hey.”

“Hey!” Everything was normal. Everything was fine.

“Smart choice of shoes.”

We look down at my Stan Smiths.

“I’ve learned my lesson…for now.” I look back up at the row of numbers. The lift stops on floor 5 and the couple get out.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” He states simply when the door closes.

“I have not!” I finally look at him and nearly lose my breath. When did he become so attractive?!

“We see each other almost every day living the way we do. And you’re telling me we managed to miss each other for a week?”

I shrug, “it’s been a weird week.”

“When did the weird week start?”

Saved by the bell. The doors open to our floors with a ding, but Harry blocks me from my front door.

“Are you serious?” I try to sidestep him but he stays in my path.

“We should talk.”

“We’re talking now.”

“C’mon.” He sighs and moves out of my way. I sigh myself before opening my door and leaving it open behind me. He takes the hint.

“I want to apologize for that night.” Harry says. “I was just feeling vulnerable and it shouldn’t have happened-“

“You’re joking right? I was going on about how good you were and I got a little too into it I think. I totally kissed you so I’m sorry. For making it weird-“

“I kissed you,” Harry tries to correct me.

“No I kissed you so I should apolog-“

“No.” Harry cuts me off.

“Why are we arguing about this?” I throw my hands up. We’re standing in the entryway going back and forth about this. It was stupid. “We’re both sorry. It shouldn’t have happened. Let’s just move on okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees. “So we’re friends? You’re not going to avoid me in the building?”

“No.” I put my hands on my hips. “Cuz I wasn’t avoiding you in the first place.”

He laughs, throwing his head back and my breath catches. I lied. I wasn’t sorry I kissed him but I was sorry it ruined our friendship. Damnit.

“You’re impossible.”

“I thought I was the real thing?” I ask without thinking.

Slightly healed, but still bruised foot, directly in mouth!!!

“Impossible things can be real,” Harry’s mood changes. He stands taller and he takes a step towards me. “Do…do you want us to just move on?”

I don’t know how to answer that.

“I…we live right next to each other Harry. It’s-“

“Unconventional but not impossible.”

“Impossible.”

“But it can still be real.”

I can’t help it. I grin at how serious he was being with his play on words. He was serious about this though. It scared me a little.

“A date.”

“What about it?” I ask.

“We go on a date, see how things are. It they’re weird we go back to friends like we always were. If it’s good…”

“Okay. How about Friday?” I wanted this as much as it seemed like he wanted it. Dating was hard, apps were impossible. This good and kind man standing in front of me was impossible and real.

“Friday’s perfect. Wednesday would be even better.”

“Today is Wednesday.” I say before realizing what he meant.

“It is.”

“Okay. Pick me up at 7?”

“I’ll be on time.” Harry’s grin is contagious.

“Great.” I watch him walk back to the door.

“One favour?” He asks. I ask him what it is. “Wear something pink?”

“Most definitely.” My heart surges and I feel seen. So seen.

I think he was the real thing too. Impossibly real. And possibly something more than neighbourly friends.

Excited and hopeful were an understatement. I couldn’t wait.

[maudie-duan]

A/N: This will be a six-part series told from the POV of Harry and Marlowe—Yes, this story is based on two High School lovers, but all the characters are of age. I always think it’s a fine line writing this kind of story, but I think they can also bring nostalgia for a time when the world as you know it was contained inside the walls of a building, where everything you felt was greater than the sum of our parts. Take it or leave it. I think we can all learn something from our younger selves. It’s a reminder that we always have more to learn, even when we think we have it all figured out.

Changes Masterlist<-

Word Count: 8.6k

Warnings: 18+, Language, Some Spicy Stuff, Teen Angst, Emotions, Body Shaming. (If I miss anything, let me know.)

I held a torch for a girl that I was too cowardly to keep. Hopelessly failing at every opportunity, knowingly letting her down, becoming too concerned about what everyone would think of me, and that was the problem

Me.

There were only five months left of school, and somehow, the teachers were still handing out detentions, trying to teach life lessons that no senior cared about or would take with them; at least for me, it was just another teacher wasting my time. 

That’s what it was, I thought, until I walked into my biology class after school to serve my time.

When you think of pivotal moments in your life, how did they start? It’s usually some sort of happenstance, right? A domino effect—a changing, an undoing, a beginning to an end, or an end to a beginning. However you slice it, whether big or small, the moment always finds a way to reveal itself to you in time. It becomes this inevitable change. Change is always guaranteed because there will always be something in our lives that we can’t control—This was one of those moments—the moment I walked into that classroom, and there was Marlowe.

Trust me, I don’t want to be dramatic, but if there was any moment in my life where it just felt like the gods were on my side, it was this day, at this moment, and I knew it the second we locked eyes. I knew without a doubt that this would be my chance, the only opportunity I had left to shoot my shot because I’m telling you, at that moment, that torch for her never burned brighter. 

I knew I couldn’t walk away from my high school career, knowing I had experienced everything I wanted, but somewhere in my mind, I knew I had never taken my chance with her, and I didn’t think I could live with that.

“Okay—” Mr. Bryant says, the biology teacher, who was already bulldozing right into his lecture, jumping in like Marlowe or I cared, considering we were the only ones serving time for something as petty as having our cellphones out in class, but now, I’m thinking it’s the best decision I’ve made in a while. 

When Marlowe peeks at me from the corner of her eye, my heart skips a beat, knowing she’s aware of my presence in the room, and that alone makes it worth it.

“So starting now—you two fortunate souls will get to spend some quality time with me while I grade the many half-assed biology reports you students insist on turning in—” He blabs, and I’m barely paying attention.

Marlowe runs a hand through her long, dark hair, and I watch it cascade in shiny layers as she shifts it all to one side, giving me the perfect view of her profile. She straightens then, rolling her eyes at his words while he continues, “Just because this is your last few months as seniors doesn’t mean the rules and your work go out the window. This is still school, and in my class, you will abide by my rules—”.

“I just think at some point you need to make some kind of exception…” Marlowe interrupts.

“And why is that, Miss. Asher? What makes you the exception?

Marlowe shrugs and leans back, “I don’t think I’m an exception…” She tells him, enunciating that last word just enough that Bryant is crossing his arms, waiting for the bullshit because no matter what we say, he doesn’t care; for all we know, he’s getting off on this, and we are merely his entertainment for the day.

“The only reason I had my phone out was because I was trying to secure my ride for after school…that was literally it—and if you would have just read the text, you would have seen that—”

“A rule is a rule, Miss Asher—and when you get into the real world, you’ll understand—”

“Well, in the “real world”—” she says, bringing her hands up to make air quotations, “There are exceptions to the rules…and now I don’t even know how I’m getting home—” 

Marlowe is crossing her arms now, matching his stance, and I’m honestly surprised to see this side of her; then again, I’ve never really gotten an opportunity because we haven’t had a class together since eighth grade—when my fascination with her began, but that’s another story for another day. 

“I’m sorry you’re feeling inconvenienced, Miss Asher; now you know how I feel when I have to stop my lesson to take your phone away…”

She scoffs. “Oh my god, dude, it was the last three minutes of class…please just get the cell phone. You have my permission—let’s compare notes…”

“Miss Asher, unless you want to serve another day—which I can tell you don’t—let’s cut the pity party and just get to work…surely you have things to work on—and as for you, Mr. Styles, I would shift your focus elsewhere. It seems Miss Asher has enough going on here without your eyes beating down her neck…”

Marlowe’s head whips in my direction like she had forgotten I was here, and when her eyes roam over my face. It’s like she’s searching, like I’m a distant memory she’s locked away, and I hold my breath, waiting for her eyes to meet mine, then they do, and Marlowe doesn’t look away as fast as I thought she would. Instead, her gaze lingers for a second too long, and I don’t move a muscle. It takes Mr Bryant clearing his throat to snap me out of the trance Marlowe had me in, my whole body burning. 

I watch the realization dawn on her face as she turns away, her brows knitting together in confusion, and then she’s running a hand through her hair again, blocking her face from view, a veil of hair creating a wall, and she doesn’t look at me again. 

Those two hours consumed me, longing for her attention, a girl I knew I could never have. It was by far the most excruciating two hours I’ve spent in a long time. I’ve never been more aware of myself and another person at the same time. 

There have been so many girls, and I don’t say that to brag, just to say that I could have my pick, but Marlowe is the one I’ve wanted—She was unattainable—and whether she knew it or not, I couldn’t say, she was the girl that most guys were tripping over themselves for, but she was taken, so it made my pining even more tragic.

Here I was, a tragic, hopeless mess, trying to scheme up a plan to get her alone, but lucky enough for me, I had two major factors on my side:

One was that she was possibly stranded; for some reason, she didn’t have her car, which meant she was relying on someone else. Two, when it was time to leave this classroom, we were likely the last few people in the building, and it was a long walk from here to the parking lot, so I would have to start plotting my plan of attack.

I would have to hope that the gods were on my side, and if they were, it would have to stay that way. She would need a ride, and I would be that guy.

So when Mr. Bryant handed me my phone and dismissed me, I was out the door, making my slow descent to the parking lot. Morphing into the noisy creep I was becoming. I took my time, and what would have been a fast pace became the tortoise and the hair: slow and steady wins the race. I found myself eavesdropping on her conversation as I formed and reformed my plan, taking in little bits of information at a time.

Marlowe was on the phone the second she stepped through the classroom door. I kept pace with her, staggering a reasonable distance behind, watching her frantic gestures, hoping that each frustrated wave of her hand meant that I was one step closer to getting my chance. She was clearly getting upset with the person on the other end, and if I had to guess, it was probably her boyfriend. I only caught fragments of her conversation, a few “Are you serious?” a very clear, “No, you never told me that,” and the hopeful line of “Just forget it.”

But then my plan goes south when she ducks into the girl’s restroom right before the parking lot, and I knew right then that I was at my fork in the road: I could either look like more of a creep and wait for her outside, but that would give me away, or I could get in my car and wait it out. 

She would have to come through those doors, and I could wait in my car and take my chance if I saw her waiting.

Except that wasn’t the case, of course, because as soon as she stepped outside, she started walking toward—I couldn’t say—My only guess would be home, even though I had no clue where that was or how far of a walk that would be. I knew what I had to do. Now, I would look like a total creep when I drove up next to her; my only saving grace was that it was growing dark outside and getting really cold, too cold to be walking in the thin sweater she had on.

So, in my mind, I did what I had to do, and when I drove up next to her, she didn’t even notice, “Hey, do you need a ride?” I asked while rolling my window down. 

I don’t think it registered at first; she barely glanced my way but soon did a double take when she realized it was me asking, “It’s kind of cold out,” I add, putting my car in park.

She stops, hesitant at first, her body shifting away like maybe she should keep walking, her brows furrowed in confusion like why are you talking to me, and for a split second, I, too, am second-guessing myself because maybe this is weird since we’ve not shared a single word since Jr. High.

“Are you asking me if I need a ride?” she questioned, puzzled, shaking her head curiously. Then, as the wind picked up, she wrapped her sweater around her body. For some reason, I got out of the car, leaving it running; this seemed more personable in my brain. In my head, I thought a dude with an arm hanging out of the window looked more suspicious, but maybe I was wrong. 

Marlowe stiffens at the gesture, taking a reluctant step back just enough that I stop in my tracks, leaving a comfortable distance between us. It feels like I’m coaxing a cat; everything about her posture feels protective, which makes me sad. I could take a million guesses as to why, and I think I know—I thought whatever happened between us that day in middle school would have passed, but I can see that it hasn’t because she’s giving me that same look, waiting for the blow of rejection she never deserved, not then, and not now. 

“I heard you tell Mr. Bryant you didn’t have a ride…I don’t know. I just figured I would ask…” I tell her.

She gives me a silent nod, eyes surveying my face, then looks around like she’s looking for anyone else—anyone else that could help her, anyone but me, at least that’s what it feels like, and I sense the slow, steep of rejection, mounting up my spine. It would be fair, but I don’t want it, not from her, not when it seems like she’s a million miles away from the person she was before; so many changes she’s endured, and maybe I’ve changed just enough to bridge the galaxy that has been stretching out between us for years.

And again, I’m not saying there hasn’t been opportunity after opportunity—whether it was us sharing a passing glance in the hallway or me shooting her a brave smile at a party we both happened to be at, there have been many chances—but it never changed anything—I was never the random person she would make conversation with, even in a small circle of mutual friends; it was always her eyes darting around to everyone else but me.

I guess that’s its own rejection within itself.

“Umm—” she says, “Are you sure?” 

“Positive—” I quip, a little too excited, and this catches her off-guard.

And when she murmurs, “Okay…” still skeptical, I shove my hands in my pocket, trying to relax my face and wait for her move.

When she takes the first step, I casually stroll to the passenger side of the car and open the door for her—yes, I know this may come off as strange, but I did it anyway, and when she gave me another questioning look, bending to get in the car. I gave her my best smile and caught the corner of her mouth turn up, and she bit down on her bottom lip as she settled in. I shut the door and walked around to my side of the car, holding my breath, willing myself not to make a single facial expression because I couldn’t believe I had her in my fucking car. 

I had to grip the wheel to keep my hands from shaking; I had Marlowe in the car, and I had no clue what to do. I thought getting her in the car would be the most challenging part—That was my only plan; there wasn’t anything else, and now I felt like an idiot. 

Before she can even give me a sense of direction, her phone rings, and I slow down, barely out of the parking lot, “Hey, what’s up?” she asks flatly.

“Don’t worry about it. I found a ride—” Marlowe places a hand over the speaker and asks if I can pull over for a second, mouthing the word “Sorry” as she continues her conversation.

“Listen, Trent—” she says, and my stomach drops; it was, in fact, her boyfriend, and in that second, I was praying that she wouldn’t say a word about me. Maybe it wouldn’t be that big of a deal; this car ride could easily be explained, but it wasn’t something I had factored in, and I didn’t have a plan or even an idea of what my end game would be.

Was all of this to say I had a single moment alone, one time with Marlowe Asher? Take her home and live in that daydream, in that small window of time we had, because now I want more of her time; a daydream isn’t enough anymore, and I have no idea how to make that happen.

“Trent—you already said that you were busy tonight. I don’t care, and I wasn’t trying to make it an argument—it just felt random—”

I’m looking out the window, attempting to give her space, and then I reach for the heater to turn it up because it’s so cold in here; the chill adding to the current tremors building in my chest, and I’m trying not to draw any more attention to myself. 

“I hate when you do that, Tren—no, that—I wasn’t accusing you of anything…all I said was the plans seemed random—especially since you didn’t say anything about them anytime I saw you today…”

She huffs out a loud breath, shaking her head, and I glimpse her turn toward the window, watching her reflection in the glass as she rubs her glossed lips together, frustration seizing her ridged posture. 

“Look, Trent—I don’t want to argue…you do you, and I’ll just figure out my own plans tonight—it’s Friday—I’ll just hit up Skylar—”

The second she said Skylar’s name, I thought back to earlier that day, to the blow-off art class I shared with Skylar and Trent. How they had been assigned to be partners a few weeks ago, and although I knew they were friends, there was a palpable shift recently. Maybe a random onlooker wouldn’t be able to spot it, but I did, and it made my blood boil because I knew Trent was dating Marlow, and Skylar was supposedly her best friend. 

Lately, I’ve questioned their friendship, especially when I saw them at parties. The way they interacted—the snide remarks Skylar made toward Marlowe, disguising them as clever jokes when it was evident by Marlowe’s reaction that it wasn’t.

When she tells Trent she loves him and ends the call, a vision of Trent pulling Skylar’s chair toward him in class plays out in my head—the playful gesture warranting a flirty giggle from Skylar. I watched as he leaned down and whispered something in her ear, watching as she bit her lower lip and mouthed the word “Yes,” then he nudged her, standing slightly to adjust his jeans. 

I knew that look all too well; I had seen it a hundred times before. 

I knew this guy like the back of my hand, at least I used to, but that look—the look I had seen him give so many girls in the past, he was into her; just last weekend, I had seen him and Marlowe at a concert. I had gone alone; they hadn’t seen me, so I stayed toward the back, not wanting to make any awkward interactions because that’s what it’s been with him since we stopped hanging out our sophomore year.

Today, you wouldn’t have even known that we had been best buddies since we were kids, playing soccer together like it was life, and back then, it was. It was everything, and you wouldn’t have seen better mates if you tried—We did everything together. It wasn’t that things ended badly; it was more like we grew apart. He chose art and new friends, and I stuck with soccer. I knew everything was chill between us when he caught wind of me becoming soccer captain and congratulated me one day in the hall. 

I remember that was the first time I realized he and Marlowe were a thing; he had caught sight of Marlowe from afar, cutting our conversation short. He said a quick “goodbye” and jogged after her, wrapping his tall stature around, all smiles. I choked on my breath, coughing in air, shock taking over me that Trent Smith, one of the most popular guys in school, was kissing Marlowe Asher in front of everyone, the “chubby girl” he made fun of so many times—well they said she was chubby, but what was chubby then was not chubby now, she just had more curves than the average middle schooler; he even went as far as to say the only thing great about her was her face card.

And it’s funny because it took him until sophomore year to even acknowledge her existence past that remark—it took her changing everything about herself for anyone to see her worth. I’m one of them because even now, I know she’s worthy of so much more, except she’ll never know I’ve always wanted her.

What they saw as flaws, I saw as potential, and even if she was carrying a “little extra weight,” who fucking cares, I shouldn’t have cared, but I did care; I cared about what everyone thought because I was shallow and I wanted friends, and maybe that hasn’t changed, because I can still find ways to justify it. 

“So where, too?” I say, cutting through the silence; it’s like the conversation took her out of the moment as she stares out the window. She glances over at me then, a vacant look in her eyes, somewhere lost in her thoughts, and she sends me a nervous smile

 At least that’s better than the alternative. 

Marlowe gave me her address, and I realize we don’t live far from each other. It would be about a 15-minute drive, and as soon as I hit the gas, the countdown began to form another plan, one where we hang out—anything; just anything to get this one night, this one chance because I don’t think I’ll be lucky enough to get another nor do I deserve it.

The drive is silent at first. There’s nothing but the sound of my engine and the humming of the heater, which is working overtime because it is so hot, and I want so badly to reach and turn it off, but I’m too afraid to move. She’s texting on her phone, her fingers firing away, “Do you mind if I turn on some music?” I speak up.

“Not at all…” she says quickly, almost dropping her phone, and I see she is still on edge. 

I reach for the dial and turn it up. “Do you like Fleet Foxes?” I ask, taking the opportunity to turn down the heat.

She looks over, a smile ghosting her lips, “Yeah—actually…like a lot. It’s crazy because I just went to their concert recently…”

“Oh, no way—I was there too—” I lie like this is new information, like I couldn’t keep my eyes off her the whole concert, glancing over every time the song changed to see her reaction, wishing it was me wrapping my body around her when the band slowed down, and the music went soft. 

Marlowe perks up at this bit of news, “No fucking way, dude—”

“Yeah, no lie…they’re so good!” I gush because it was an excellent concert, and as her eyes wander my face, a slow smile spreads, a single dimple dipping into her left cheek.

She relaxes back into her seat, her eyes still on me when I stop at a red light, “I can’t believe you were there. I didn’t see you…you should have said hi…” She says, this time her smile reaches her eyes, but something about it is shy, something starry-eyed about her gaze, and I recognize this look because this is exactly how she used to look at me in Jr. High. 

Before I found out she had a massive crush on me, and I ruined everything. I remember thinking she had the most beautiful smile and big brown eyes that matched. 

Marlowe’s smile now was like glimpsing the past, as strange as it sounds. I started longing for that girl—For a time before everything changed—before we all had to change, and life was less complicated. When it took less to please everyone, a time when people expected less, and there was more to give.

“I don’t think I saw you there…” I say, telling her another lie, “But I definitely would have said hi…maybe next time—”

My last line has a bashful grin peeking out from the corner of her mouth, and she looks down at her hand then, rubbing her palms flat over her jeans. “Yeah, for sure…”  she says and turns toward the window, trying to hide her smile. Little does she know, I can see it in the reflection every time we pass under a streetlight. 

‘Jesus, Etc.’ by Wilco plays next, and her head whips to the dial, then to me, and I’m already smiling. 

“They’re coming next month—” she announces, grinning from ear to ear.

I laugh, “I know—I’ve already gotten my ticket…” I tell her

She’s completely taken with this news because when she says, “No way!” Joy rushes through her features, her big brown eyes widen, and I feel giddy to keep this excitement going for her. It’s like the music has opened a door, and we both step through it without any uncertainties.

“Oh my gosh—I’m so jealous. Have you heard Wilco’s new album? It’s so good.” 

I shake my head. “No,” I voice, focusing on the road and bite my lower lip, trying not to smile. “I can’t say I have. Is it good? I know I need to listen to it soon, catch up before the concert…”

“Yes, you do—I actually have it…” she declares as she leans forward and reaches into her purse; Marlowe digs around for a couple of seconds, then materializes the CD like she’s pulling a rabbit from a hat.

“No way, Marlowe…you have it?” I ask, surprised and now extremely excited because so far, she’s turning out to be way cooler than I thought, but I figured this much if Trent likes her. 

“Yes—actually, it was between this and Bon Ivers album…”

“Really? Which Bon Iver album? The first or the second?” I ask.

“The first because my friend Skylar scratch my CD to fucking hell….” She answers, shaking her head, annoyed, I can tell. I would be, too, and I realize this is my opportunity, and when I drop my following line, I make sure to sound as casual as possible.

“I have the first one at home…maybe we can trade for a bit?” And I shoot her a quick glance to see if she’s interested. 

She looks down at her CD like she’s contemplating this new negotiation. “Hmm…and when would we trade back?” She questions.

“Anytime you’d want…you just say the word, and it will be right back in your hands…”

Marlowe looks up from the CD, a smile spreading on her face, “Okay—but please just make sure you don’t scratch it—like seriously…I’m kind of a weirdo about my CDs. They’re just like—my lifeline, you know?” Then she laughs.

“God…I sound like such a fucking stoner…sorry, like I’m down to trade for a little bit,” That nervous smile is back, a searching look on her face like maybe she just said too much. 

“You seem fine to me…not a weirdo…promise,” I tell her, surveying her before my eyes are back on the road—and now I have to take my chance because this is the last light before I either turn left and take her home or turn right, and we go to my place.

“Would you mind if we stopped by mine to grab that CD?” I ask, keeping my voice even and calm, like my heart isn’t pounding in my chest, like the ringing in my ears isn’t echoing out the same rhythm of my heartbeat, nearly drowning out the sound of Marlowe’s voice when she says, “Sure—?” more like a question, and her reluctance is back but understandable. 

“Would that be weird?” she tests.

“I don’t think so…” I reply, hoping she answers before the light turns green. “I’m chill with it if you are,” I add, my face burning, and I wonder if she can see. 

She examines me, then, “Sure…” she replies, and swallows, probably just as nervous as me because her smile is gone, and when I move my eyes back to the road, I can see her run her palms down the tops of her jeans again. 

The light turns green, and the sound of the blinker reverberates through the car as the silence settles in.

Marlowe didn’t say a word the rest of the ride, and when I peeked over at her from the corner of my eye, she just looked out the window, fidgeting with a silver ring on her finger. I could only imagine the thoughts running through her head because mine were a swirling mess, sifting through feelings I’d locked away for years. I had never imagined this as a concrete thing, and I wondered how long I could stretch this moment in time, taking in her tiny details.

The walk from my car was literal crickets, their chirping pinging around us, seeming louder than usual. Now that it was dark, the night sky was clear and chalked full of stars. I kept straining my ears, trying to pick up any sound coming from Marlowe, but she was quiet and perfectly composed. When I offered to carry her backpack, she handed it over, eyes never leaving the bag, and then she let go, running a hand through her hair, surveying her surroundings.

“I never realized you lived this close,” she said, clearing her throat as I turned the key in the door, my hands visibly shaking. I know she sees it because when my eyes dart to hers, she staring at my hands, and I hold my breath, pushing the door open, gesturing for her to go in.

“Yeah, me neither…” I pipe up. My answer is delayed when I breathe her in just as a gust of wind picks up and the scent of vanilla invades my nose, and she through the doorway, and I’m closing us in, and now I’m freaking out because what next? I think as I move around, flicking on lights.

I’ve only ever brought girls over to hook up, except they’ve never come through the front door—the expectations were always clear; she would know exactly why she was coming over. I would meet her at the back door; it was a calculated plan, no question about it, and she was in and out, that’s it; the fewer feelings involved, the better. 

“My room is this way,” I say, jerking my head toward the stairs, but she doesn’t look at me then; she’s peering around, taking in the room, scanning pictures along the wall as her eyes float to the stairs, then to me, nodding her head, and her eyes stray back to a picture of Trent and me when we were kids. I had honestly forgotten it was there; my mom tended to hang on to old memories, and I watched as Marlowe’s gaze lingered, and then she glimpsed up and took a step toward me.

I took the stairs slower than normal, not wanting to wind her before we reached my room. At the top of the stairs, I flipped the light switch so she wasn’t clouded in darkness, walking to my room at the end of the hall, “You good?” I asked over my shoulder because she was so quiet, making me even more nervous.

“Yeah…all good…” she mumbles, barely loud enough to hear, “Where is your family?” She questions, and her voice picks up then.

“My parents are visiting my sister in England…some kind of award thing—like meet the parents or something…” I answer, casually hoping this doesn’t make her uncomfortable, and open the door to my bedroom and walk in, listening to her footsteps as she follows behind me, and I set her backpack by the door. 

I go straight to my desk, open my CD case, and when I turn around, Marlowe is paused by the door, hand wrapped around the knob, and we lock eyes. “Do you want this open or closed?” she asks.

“Up to you. I don’t mind either way,” I tell her, gathering the binder of CDs. I’m trying to keep myself calm, pretending I’m occupied, when really, the second I hear the door click shut, panic plummets through me, and I strategically place the open case on the floor, crouching down until my butt hits the floor and I start kicking off my shoes.

I look up as she quietly drops her purse by the door, watching me as I nudge my last shoe off. She follows suit, eyes still on me, strides over and gracefully lowers herself to the ground. 

“This is my lifeline—” I joke, scooting the binder toward her. She smiles then, another bashful smile as before, the one that sends a flutter to my stomach—my nerves are getting the best of me because there’s a certain level of vulnerability when you allow someone to search through your music, but I figured this was the only way to break the ice. 

“Wow—” she starts, “I’ve never pictured you liking this much music…” 

I study Marlowe as she traces a finger around a Radiohead disc and slides it from the pouch, “Can we listen to this while I look through the rest?” she asks. 

I smile, then reach for the CD, and she flashes me a toothy grin because we both know this album is good. “In Rainbows is one of my favorite albums by them…” I say, standing to put the CD in my player.

“I would say it’s like neck and neck with OK Computer for me—”

“But we can’t forget Pablo Honey—” I say, cutting in.

“Oh, fuck—” she blurts, pressing her palm to her forehead, “Yes—I don’t know how I could forget that one…Creep is like a classic by now, right? Same with Fake Plastic Trees…but that’s on The Bends, which is also good…shit they’re just fucking amazing?”

“They really are…I watch so many covers on YouTube…” I add, sitting back down. 

“I love watching covers…” she says fondly as if recalling a pleasant memory. I laugh because I thought I was the only one into covers, and then she has me smiling, taking in the dreamy look on her face.

“What…?” She asks shyly, and I shake my head, grinning down at the hole in my jeans, pulling at the threads.

“Nothing…” I breathe, too shy to look back up, and she reaches over and playfully nudges my knee.

“Tell me…” she laughs this time. 

I fall against the side of my bed and peek up, “I guess I never knew you liked music this much…” I tell her, still smiling, my cheeks starting to ache. 

“I mean…I’m sure there’s a lot we don’t know about each other,” she answers, her voice low, and she shoots me a sly grin, eyes flicking to me from the case for a brief second, and then they’re back as she flips the page smiling to herself.

She looks so beautiful, sitting there, rubbing her full lips together to hide the constant smile that hasn’t left her face since I laid my binder on the ground. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be this close—just the two of us—so many details to take in, like the tiny freckles across the bridge of her nose or the way the light picks up on the soft, high lights in her hair; The carved stone elephant necklace she has worn forever, but I forgot about. 

She peeks at me then, her eyes moving to my mouth, and I’m holding my breath again because I know she caught me looking at her, but I don’t look away, even though my cheeks are burning, and as her eyes explore my face again, I exhale slowly, swallowing hard.

 She smirked then, her gaze gradually lowering down my chest, stealing my focus when she drew in her bottom lip, softly biting down, and it had my head racing with every thought that I should be steering clear of; she’s dangerous. 

Is she flirting with me, or is it all in my head? 

 All I know is if she keeps looking at me that way, I may have to readjust my jeans, and that would be too obvious because all I can think about is kissing those luscious-looking lips. 

Her phone buzzes next to her on the ground, and she rips her gaze away just as her eyes hit the top of my jeans. Marlowe pulls in a loud breath through her nose, exhaling slowly, her chest decompressing as she reaches for the phone, the light casting a soft glow on her face. Then her shoulders slump, and I can only guess who it is.

“You can answer that if you’d like…” I offer.

“Nah—It’s just Trent…he’s being fucking weird today. He’s like checking in a lot, and he doesn’t normally do that…or I guess he doesn’t really have a reason to check in. He’s with his mom, so—why would I care,” She confides, her tone unbothered, like maybe the whole situation bores her, or maybe she wants it to seem that way because when he sends a text, she immediately picks up her phone and responds. 

Then, out of nowhere, she says, “Do you smoke?” and tosses her phone to the ground. I think she means weed, but I’m not sure, and when I raise a brow, she’s quick to follow up.

“like weed…do you smoke weed?” 

I laugh, “I don’t normally smoke weed, but soccer just ended. I’m not sure if the school still tests anymore since it was my last season.”

“Oh, that’s right…you guys had a good season. That’s a hell of a way to go out…” She says.

“I know…it made my family really proud—” 

“and yourself…” she adds fast, smirking at me, then looks over at the soccer trophies lining my wall.

“Yeah…I guess,” I answer, feeling a bit embarrassed because I hate this kind of attention, “I would smoke, but I don’t have any.” 

“I have a joint that I rolled this morning before school if you want to smoke,” she tells me, and she grins again, watching my face. I know that I looked surprised because I could feel my eyebrows stretching upward, and then I tried to relax my face.

“You’ve been carrying it around school?” I ask, curious as to how she’s able to get away with that when there are random drug searches all the time, drug dogs in and out of the school, every other day.

She shrugs, “I thought I was hanging out with Trent tonight…so I had it…I wasn’t sure if I was going back home…” she says, coming off a little timid.

Maybe she thinks I’m judging her, but I’m more surprised to know that she stays the night at his house, or at least that’s what I’m assuming, and this opens another door I haven’t thought about in a while—the two of them having sex.

This piques my curiosity even more, and maybe I’m a weirdo for wondering, but what is their sex even like?

“Is that weird for you? She says, and I have to force myself from my thoughts, confused as to what she’s even asking.

“Is what weird…?”

“Trent?” she answers.

“Don’t know—” I lie, “Haven’t really thought about it.” 

“You guys used to be like best friends, right?” 

“Something like that…” I say, “But he’s kind of changed…”

There’s a beat of silence, and she drags her knees to her chest, circling her arms around them, “Well—if it means anything…I’ve never heard him talk shit about you,” she tells me, peering down at her feet.

“Honestly…there’s no bad blood or anything. Trent just chose a different path…that’s all.” I confess.

“Yeah…” is all she says, still gazing down at her feet, and I wonder what she’s thinking, what he’s told her about me, if what she said was true.

We both sat there for a minute, letting the murmur of the music feed the silence. Then Marlowe said, “He’s kind of changed since we started dating…” Her eyes flashed to mine abruptly, making my heart race, her expression unreadable.

“I guess we’ve all changed,” she finishes. 

I nod in agreement, watching a glimmer of sadness streak her face, but she is good at staying neutral, and I wonder where she’s learned this, “So, should we smoke?” I ask

“Fuck yeah—” she says, shooting me a smile, and she stands to her feet swiftly, her excitement taking way as she walks over to her purse. 

She pulls out a perfume bottle, untwists the lid, and out comes a rolled joint, “It might taste a little vanilla-ish…the bottle has been empty for months, but it’s the only way I’ve been able to disguise the scent.”

“And does it work?”

“For sure…last week, a drug dog walked right past me in class, and I swear I almost shit myself,” she laughs out. 

I pull the throw blanket from my bed, laughing, “Fuck…I bet—” I express  “Mind if we smoke outside?” 

“Not at all, “ she answers, following me to my window. It’s honestly the best place to smoke. It has the best view of the neighborhood lake, lined by a walking trail. No one can ever see me, and it’s become the perfect spot to people-watch. I climb out first so that I can help if needed. 

Marlowe’s cardigan snags on the ledge of the window, and she breathes out the word “fuck,” as she steps out onto the landing, turning to gather the material in her hand, “Damn…I just got this—”

“I’m sorry—you can have one of my jump—I mean sweaters if you’d like…” I offered, unsure of how to fix the situation, but it seemed right.

She smiles, “Were you going to say jumper?” her voice teasing. 

“Maybe…what’s it to you?” I joke.

She shrugs her shoulders, her smile wide, “That’s so British—”

I poke my finger into her dimple, then, “Watch it, or I’ll change my mind…” I tell her, my voice lowering. 

“You mean I’d be lucky enough to own a sweater from “The Harry Styles”—” she taunts, placing a hand over her heart. “I’m sure every girl at school has them cataloged…” 

“Whatever—” I laugh, trying to brush off her comment, and though there might be a little truth to her statement, I would rather see her wearing one.

She sits before me, bringing her knees to her chest, and I wrap the blanket around her and sit down next to her, “Aren’t you going to be cold?” she asks.

“Here—do you want my cardigain?” She offers.

“No—No…I’m good. Soccer just ended. It definitely toughens you up during the winter season.”

She eyes me suspiciously as she wraps the blanket around her. “Do you want me to start it…or do you?” she asks.

“You go for it,” I answer.

She brings the joint to her mouth, fidgeting with the lighter until it clicks and ignites, the paper crackling the second the flame comes into contact with it. I watch Marlowe inhale slowly, the tip of the joint blazing orange, until she stops, dragging in a breath through her mouth, and then her pretty lips seal shut as she holds in the smoke and passes me the joint.

As soon as I bring it to my lips, her head drifts back, and she wraps the blanket around her body as she gradually exhales a large cloud of smoke, her eyes closing as the smoke billows in the wind, and I watch as the last puff leaves her body—and she’s so fucking sexy. 

Then her tongue darts out to lick her lips, leaving a soft sheen of shine in the moonlight, and she smooths them together before she takes the joint from me again, eyes meeting mine, and she smirks over at me, her gaze shifting to my mouth as I exhale the smoke burning my lungs.

By the last hit of the joint, I was already high. I couldn’t remember the last time I had smoked or if I’d ever felt this high, but suddenly, I was so cold, and when I heard Marlowe’s voice cutting through the haze of my thoughts, my eyes flitted over to her face, taking in her smile and then I was smiling, laughing, when I heard her laughter.

“You’re high…” She says, reaching over to nudge my shoulder.

“You’re high…” I copy because her eyes are so fucking glossy, and I wonder how she would ever get away with being high at school because they’re a dead giveaway.

She laughs. “You’re cold, aren’t you?” she says, jerking her chin toward me as her eyes dart down my body. I hadn’t realized my arms were wrapped around my torso; god, it was so cold.

“Come—I’ll share the blanket with you…” she suggests, without hesitation, so I scoot closer, and she lifts her arm, opening up space next to her.

The warmth is instantaneous, and the only way I can seal in the heat on my side is to slide my arm around her waist, huddling closer to her body, and somehow, the blanket isn’t as big as I thought.

“Sorry—is that—Shit, I’m sorry…is that weird—” I ask, adjusting my arm.

“Oh—no—umm…no—you’re fine—”

“It’s just that—” I say, fidgeting some more.

“Yeah…your arm—here—is that better?” She asks, pulling my arm around her, and she enfolds my hand around the small of her ribs, resting her hand against mine when I flatten it against her body. 

“I never realized how small this blanket was…” I joke, trying to ease any tension, but maybe there isn’t any, and I’m just too fucking high to tell.

Marlowe eyes me then, a sheepish smile stretching across her face, “Harry…It’s fine.” she whispers, and her face is so close now, closer than it’s ever been, so close that all we would have to do was move our heads a few inches and our lips could touch.

“Okay…” I tell her, matching her tone, “But you’ll tell me if it wasn’t?”

Her thumb brushes over my hand, which is snug against her body now, and I focus on the rise and fall of her breath, feeling too high to keep my eyes open, “Do you feel good,” she asks.

“Perfect,” I smile as a comfortable silence drifts between us. Eventually, Marlowe rests her head on my shoulder, and I let my head fall against hers, smelling that familiar scent of vanilla. Then, like an idiot, I bury my nose into her hair, breathing her in. She laughs, snapping me out of my daze.

“Sorry…” I apologize, “Your hair smells so good…” 

“Does it?” 

“So good…” I confirm, and I wrap my arm around her tighter, then grips my wrist and nestles into my body more.

“I can’t believe you practically have a lake in your backyard…” she blurts.

I laugh because it is actually really random, “ I know…it’s man-made…”

She chuckles, shaking her head, “I would assume so—”

“I mean…like this is a retirement community…”

Marlowe looks up at me, then, “I know… my grandma lives across your lake…”

I smile down at Marlowe, the moon catching the shine in her eyes, and I graze the pad of my thumb down the fabric of her sweater. She smiles then, her white teeth gleaming in the moonlight.

“You’re really pretty…” I breathe, letting the words tumble out without any thought. She glimpses up at me, her smile faltering for a second, and then she huffs a laugh.

“You’re really pretty,” she repeats jokingly.

“I mean it…” I tell her.

“Harry…” 

“What?” I ask.

“You’re just high…” 

“I’m high…but it doesn’t change the way I feel…”

“Yeah?” she asks faintly.

“Yes—I promise…”

She drops her head, nudging into my shoulder again, and I don’t say another word. Eventually, I notice her thumb moving back and forth on my arm, and I give her waist a light squeeze, “Marlowe…” 

“Yeah?” She asks, continuing to caress my arm.

And I lift my head, “What are you thinking right now?” I ask, dying to know every thought running through her head, and she nuzzles her head against me, then lifts her face to meet mine.

“I’m thinking about you…” She says, her words are soft, floating out into the air, and it’s everything I’ve wanted to hear.

“What are you thinking about?” She asks, a slow smile spreading across her face.

“You…” I divulge

“What about me?” she pries, a mischievous grin playing at her features.

“I don’t know…” I say, feeling self-conscious, like every tactic I would typically use to get the girl won’t work on her, and I know deep down that I just need to be honest.

“Like what would it be like to kiss you…” I spill, letting the words hang between us. Then her smile drops, and I think I’ve ruined it, and she sits up, eyes searching my face.

 When they land on my mouth, I feel it in my bones, like maybe she feels it too, and when she says, “I’ve been dying to kiss you for a long time,” I know that’s my green light and I drop the blanket, taking her face in my hand. When her eyes flit shut, I press my lips to her mouth. She lets out a long exhale, pushing warm air through her nose, and I breathe it in, savoring every second. 

And when her mouth begins to move against mine, it’s slow and steady at first, but then a small whimper fills my mouth, and I’m hurrying the kiss as I slowly lean her back, bringing the blanket with me, creating our own little cocoon. I’m lying on my side, trying not to crush her, when I slide my arm under her neck, and she wraps her arms around me then, drawing me closer. 

The kiss is better than I imagined, her lips perfectly soft, like every passing daydream I’ve ever had of her, and when I deepen the kiss, slowing us down, she tugs at my shirt, trying to pull me on top of her as my free hand moves under her sweater tracing the contour of her body, traveling down her waist, until my hand reaches her hip, trying to squeeze her flesh through her jeans.

The grip on my shirt tightens, this time pulling with need, and her hand slides under my shirt, gliding along the top of my jeans. She grabs a handful of the muscle along my side and gently pulls me toward her again. I mumble a throaty “Mmmmm” into her mouth, and I feel the vibration of my voice hum across her lips, adding to the sensation, and it feels so good. 

She must like it too, becuase he hand is moving up my body now, her warm palm moving across my chest, and it feels like everything—Everyting I could have every wanted and we could stay like this, but now I want more.

“Harry…” she sighs the whisper of my name so soft and sweet, jumbling my thoughts even further. 

Then I must be losing my mind because the next thing I know, I’m climbing on top of her, gently nudging a leg between her thighs, creating space for me to press my body to hers, then Marlowe’s legs are opening, inviting me in, and she’s lifting her hips ever so slightly, grinding against my leg, and I softly press into warmth, her hand moving down my body until she grabs a handful of my ass and pulls me closer, lining us up, and I groan the second she rubs against the bulge in my jeans. 

I broke the kiss then because here I was at another crossroads.

 I want to do whatever Marlowe wanted, but if it’s more, I don’t want to do it here. I want her to have every opportunity to call whatever this is off. I don’t want to be another regret, the disappointment I’ve been to her in the past.

There are a million emotions coursing through me, and when I ask, “Do you want to go inside?” she grips my ass tighter, pulling me into her again, smirking up at me.

“I thought you would never ask….” She says, relaxing underneath me, and I kiss her one more time as she releases me, a soft laugh leaving her mouth. Call me young and dumb, but I genuinely don’t think I’ll ever feel this way for anyone else because when I look into those big brown eyes, it’s like I’ve looked into them a million times before, a reminiscent memory of a past we might have shared because her name alone, echos through me like she’s been there all along, and whatever this may be; has to mean something. 

A/N: First Series of the New Year! Hope you like it. The tag list is open if you're interested! So thankful for all the love and support you guys give!!

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✰ baby honey ✰ #8 (part 1)

(dom!harry)

Harry let’s you come to the office with him..

masterlist

word count: 6.4k

warnings/tags: harry x reader, dom!harry, daddy k!nk, praise k!nk, smut, oral m receiving

There was a bit of excitement brewing as you squeezed Harry’s hand in the elevator. He was checking the time on his watch, somewhat ignoring your happy mood and bright grin. He decided the night before that he would allow you to accompany him to his office. You had an appointment you needed to be taken to later on in the day, so he figured it would be more convenient to have you with him. You were definitely thrilled to be getting out of the house. It had been a while since you last came to the company’s building. Usually Harry was extremely busy and he couldn’t tend to you, so you prefer to just stay at home and be comfortable.

When the elevator door opened, your eyes lit up as you saw the familiar floor. You saw his assistant sitting at his desk, jotting down something as he spoke on the phone. You saw another person you recognized and gave them a gentle wave. Harry didn’t pay anyone any attention as he gripped your hand and guided you towards his office door.

You caught his glance as he opened the door for you and gestured you in. A whimper left your mouth as he released your hand. You twirled around to face him, reaching for his waist. He let you grab him, but he easily gave you a stern lift of his brows.

“Baby love, remember what we talked about? You have to behave today.”

You pouted your lips out. “I will, I promise.”

“That includes not being a distraction, doll.” He gently took hold of your wrists and pulled your hands off. “I’ll tend to you during lunch, okay?”

“Lunch?” You frowned. “That’s in four hours.”

He sighed and shook his head. “Don’t start complaining, baby.”

“M’not complaining.”

Harry wasn’t in a very good mood, so he didn’t want to deal with your attitude. You rolled your eyes as he walked past you, not bothering to entertain your nonsense this morning. You watched as he sat down at his desk and immediately occupied himself with the computer. Despite being joyful about being out of the house, you knew there wasn’t much you could do here.

So, as usual, you found a spot on the leather couch placed against the wall and crossed your arms and legs. There was a throw blanket specifically there for you, but you didn’t grab it. Instead, you huffed and opted to fixate your stare on him. Harry was very serious about his work and he did not like to be interrupted or bothered while he was doing important business. You knew that all too well, yet you’ve tested your luck with him way more than just once.

His hair was perfectly sculpted and neat on his head. You chewed on your cheek as you thought about the quick orgasm you received before you got out of bed. Harry wanted to give you something to hold you over for the day. He was well aware that you got extra clingy and needy while you were with him in his office. It felt like he was teasing you by just sitting there and ignoring you - so close to you, but refusing to entertain your desires. That was a big reason why he preferred to not have you in the office. Not only was it torture for you, but he hated knowing you felt that way. It was easier to send you a text or a quick call to calm your nerves while he was working than it was to meet every one of your needs while together.

Even though you were gifted a treat this morning, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. His mouth sucking on your pussy, his tongue slurping around and poking into you, his cheeks hollowing around your clit. He gave you an incredible orgasm that made your entire body tingle. You didn’t notice your hand had fallen between your legs until there was a sudden blaring of the office phone ringing. You jerked your hand up and swallowed as you watched him talk on the phone. The words he was speaking didn’t make any sense to you. Your mind was so focused on his mouth that you couldn’t make out any sounds. His lips were moving, his tongue being exposed as he spoke, and his eyes had shifted up to meet yours.

After a few moments, he sat the phone down and licked his lips. “There’s donuts and stuff in the kitchen. Go get something to eat, love.”

“Okay.” You were a tad nervous, fearing you had been caught in your trance despite him not saying anything. He didn’t even notice. “Do you want something?”

“No, thanks.”

Your stomach did a flip as you realized he wasn’t standing up to join you. “You’re not coming with me?”

He smirked slightly and lifted a brow. “You know where to go.”

“Yeah, but..” Your voice trailed off while your eyes dropped to your feet.

“You’ll be alright, sugarplum. Go get something to eat, alright?”

It was disheartening to see his eyes move back to the computer monitor. You sucked on your cheek as you mustered up the courage to walk to the kitchen area by yourself. You knew the layout of this floor very well. There were the bathrooms, the storage rooms, the meeting rooms, Harry’s office, the kitchen style break room, and a few offices that belonged to Harry’s more important employees. You shook off the worry and made your way to the room. There were voices coming from the open door, and that made you somewhat nervous. The attempt to ignore those feelings was weak.

“Boss man is wanting this meeting to last a while.” One of the men said.

You slipped into the room and went to the counter. There was a spread of donuts, muffins, and fruit that were provided for breakfast. You gulped quietly as you grabbed a plate and began to scan over what you wanted to eat. You couldn’t help but to hear the conversation between the two men sitting at the small table drinking coffee. You recognized one of them as the chief marketing officer for Harry’s company, the other you weren’t sure of.

“He’s got plans for an expansion.”

The man you knew sighed. “He’s got big ambitions but he knows what’s right.”

“Oh, it’ll be worth it for sure, just a shit ton of work and headaches to get there.”

You chose to ignore the men as they began talking about business. Instead, your attention returned to the selection of donuts. You saw regular glazed, chocolate icing, some with sprinkles, and what appeared to be caramel coated. You smiled to yourself as you picked out a glazed and a chocolate one for yourself, then grabbed a caramel for Harry. Despite him saying he didn’t want anything, you wanted him to eat breakfast.

Harry’s eyes flicked to the door as you returned, the plate of donuts balancing on your palm. Your gaze locked on his while you crossed the room. He gently tilted his head back as you stopped in front of his desk. You sat the plate down and carefully laid out the single napkin you brought. He was intrigued by your quiet movements, not quite sure what you were up, to if anything.

When you placed the caramel donut on the napkin, you moved your eyes back to his and gave him a cute smile.

“I got this for you.”

“Thank you, sweetness. But I already ate.” A smirk toyed on his pink lips.

Blush rose to your cheeks as you playfully rolled your eyes. Just minutes ago you were replaying that event in your head.

“You need actual food.”

“Hmm.” His response was light.

It was difficult to think about anything other than him right now, but you were trying to keep your thoughts under control. Your goal today was to behave and not receive any sort of punishment. Harry watched as your eyes trailed down to the desk, you seemed out of it. He thought maybe you were just tired. A sigh pushed past his lips and he slid his chair backwards. You looked up and caught his eyes instantly.

“C’mere.” He motioned for you with a pat to his thigh.

A flutter erupted in your stomach as you sat down on his legs, his strong arm wrapping around you. There was a rule that was very clear and simple - don’t bother him while he’s working. He would give you attention when he had the time. Perhaps this was his way of easing the tension. It was clear that you were distracted by your mind, and he assumed he was the reason.

“I want you to be on your best behavior today, alright?” He said as he moved his palm up to cover your jaw.

You coiled your fingers around his wrist and nodded. “I know. I will.”

“Do good for me and I’ll make sure you get all the attention you want when we get home, baby.”

“Promise I’ll be good.”

He smirked, his lips placing a kiss to yours. “M’sure you will be, kitten.”

You almost weren’t fully aware of what was going on. Your eyes fell to his neck and you bit down on your bottom lip. Harry’s thumb rubbed over your skin, but you weren’t focusing on that.

“What’s the matter, baby doll?” His warm voice was deep and slow.

When you shook your head, he didn’t accept that as an answer. He squeezed your hip and moved his hand to the side of your neck. Your skin was hot and flushed, he noticed easily.

“Baby love, answer me.”

Your eyes darted to his as those specific words left his mouth. He knew that would get your attention. You shrugged while your fingers fell down his forearm, rubbing over his elbow before you let him go.

“It’s.. almost nine.. you have to start working.”

Harry was aware of the time. “I know.”

You pouted your lips out. “Just.. just don’t want to.. get in trouble.. by distracting you.”

“I asked you to come sit, didn’t I?”

For a second, you thought there was a trace of annoyance in his voice - but you were incorrect and simply just nervous. He licked his lips and let his hand glide up your waist.

“Yes.”

He gave you a smile. “Then you aren’t going to be in trouble, darling.”

“I.. I should leave you.. alone.”

Harry grunted when you moved to get up, he stopped you. “Baby, you’re fine. Nothing’s wrong, okay?”

You shook your head. “I.. I don’t want to get-“

He guided your head forward so that his lips could gently kiss the corner of your mouth, bringing you to silence. A whimper came from your mouth as he pecked your lips a couple of times, trying his best to make you calm down.

Before you could process it, his lips were moving in sync with yours and his tongue was flicking around in your mouth. You started to feel extremely greedy, but not for anything more intimate than this. You wanted to make sure he knew he was yours, you never wanted to let him go.

One set of your nails sunk into his nape while the other scratched through his scalp. The kiss became sloppy as it normally did, with spit slipping out of your mouths and smearing on your skin. You couldn’t focus on his crotch, you were too deep in your thoughts and this kiss. He was growing underneath you, but he knew he needed to refrain himself.

The phone began to ring yet again, breaking up the moment. Harry groaned and pulled his mouth from yours. You frowned, but knew you had no choice. He slid the chair up and leaned forward to grab the phone, all while his arm kept a tight grip on your body.

“Hello?”

You could hear a muffled voice but had no desire to know what was being said. If it was the office phone, that meant it was work related. Instead, you furrowed your brows to yourself as you attempted to piece his hair back together. You didn’t destroy it completely, but there were noticeable differences. His eyes were on you as you did so, wishing he could return to your lips but knowing he won’t be able to.

“Yeah, nine fifteen works. I’ll send the file in a minute.”

The mention of the time made your heart sink. If he was scheduling a time that meant he most likely had a meeting. Your hand dropped down his chest, slowing pressing against the soft fabric of his shirt. He kept talking, which allotted you time to just look over the details.

His collar wasn’t buttoned at the very top. He hated wearing ties and opted for this look. His long sleeves were neatly folded up to his elbows, it was too warm to be wearing them how they are meant to be worn. You admired the way the light blue pigment of the shirt looked against his tan skin. You wish you could see his arms fully, have them wrapped around you as he pounded you. You squeezed your eyes shut and pushed out the thought. You didn’t need to let yourself fall into a pit you wouldn’t be able to escape.

“Alright, thank you.” Harry said and sighed as he put the phone down.

“Guess I.. have to find something to do.” You mumbled quietly, toying with one the buttons on his shirt.

“Be a good girl for me, alright? I have a meeting soon.”

Your frown dropped lower. “Didn’t know you had one this early.”

You could feel his stare on you, watching you closely, but you never moved your eyes back up. He patted his hand gently on your hip, wanting to get your attention but it failed.

“I had a reschedule. I’ll give you some time when it’s over, alright?”

“Time?”

He smiled even though you weren’t looking. “We’ll see what I can do, alright? Might not be much.. but enough to hold you over.”

You nodded lightly and sighed, knowing this time with him was about to end. “Okay.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” The words easily fell from your lips. You shifted your head and finally met his intense gaze. “I’ll be good.”

He chuckled. “I hope so, kitten.”

While Harry was attending his meeting, you occupied yourself with the few games on your phone. You weren’t thrilled to be in his office alone, but you had no option. You could explore the building if you wanted to, but Harry knew you would be too nervous to be alone. So you stayed put on the couch and tried to pass the time. If he were in the room, you could just stare at him and let that be your distraction.

You weren’t sure of how long you had been sitting there when the door opened. You almost jumped up to greet him, but thankfully didn’t as you saw two men following behind him. He was talking to them, but he paid you a quick glance. You considered asking if you needed to step out, but you knew he wouldn’t make you.

The men sat down in the two chairs placed in front of the big desk. You frowned as you realized they would be staying in the room. All you could think about was the “time” Harry promised you. These men were ruining that. As much as he wanted to tell you he’d tend to you soon, he couldn’t right now.

You waited patiently for an additional thirty minutes. Harry was talking back and forth with the men, carrying their meeting topic into the office. You glued your eyes to the screen of your phone and tried to stay focused on the game. It was hard to be fully detached when you could hear his voice. Most of the time, he’s not talking unless he’s on the phone so you can easily distract yourself.

Eventually, the two men stood up and headed towards the door. Harry didn’t follow them, his eyes were on the computer as he typed an email. You smiled to yourself as the door shut and you were finally alone. Harry’s brows were set low as he typed. You stayed still and waited for him. To your dismay, he grabbed a stack of papers off his desk and went towards the door. His eyes never looked your way. Your smile dropped to a frown as he left the office.

Although you were on his mind, he was extremely busy. The promise of giving you some time had slipped his mind and unfortunately for you, it wouldn’t return any time soon. He was carrying the stack of papers to someone because he was too impatient to wait on them to get them from his office. This work had to get done this week so he wasn’t wasting any time. He stopped by the coffee maker to fix him a cup, forgetting to do so before he came back from the meeting earlier.

You were becoming agitated while waiting in his office. You were lying on your side now, facing the room with the blanket draped over your body. You weren’t cold, but you craved his warmth and that was the best you could do. He was gone for nearly ten minutes, and you thought it would never end. The door opened and you swallowed gently, not sure what to expect. Would he ignore you again or would he spare you a few moments? Sadly, he didn’t even turn his head in your direction. He sat down at the desk and immediately started typing on the keyboard.

A frustrated sigh left your mouth, but Harry was so focused that he didn’t even notice. You closed your eyes and tried your best to fall asleep. You weren’t tired but you figured the boredom would make you sleep.

Luckily for you, it did. It was nearing lunch when Harry shut his office door yet again. The loud noise made you flinch in your sleep, a moment later your eyelids peeled back. It was almost a jumpscare to see him walking towards you, a smile placed on his pink lips.

“Hey, baby.” He said as he gestured for you to sit up.

The blanket fell from your body as you moved. “Hi.”

He chuckled at your cute voice and messy hair. He knew you had been asleep the whole time and when you would toss onto your other side, he’d glance your way to check on you.

“Is it time to go?” You asked, sort of confused on the time.

You reached for his hand and he gladly let you take it. He smiled and gave you a gentle shake of his head. He squatted down in front of you, his other hand grabbing your thigh.

“It’s almost time for lunch, darling. What would you like, hm?”

You shrugged. “Whatever you want.”

He lifted his brows and squeezed your fingers. “Decide, alright? I’ll order it after I handle this email.”

“Wait!” You chirped as he stood up, trying to slip his hand from yours.

“What is it?”

“Don’t.. don’t go.” You muttered quietly, your eyes dropping down to stare at your joined hands.

Harry lightly sighed and reached for your jaw. He angled your head back, his eyes meeting yours. You pouted your lips out in attempt to get what you wanted, but he didn’t fall for it.

“Babe, I have to do this real quick. I’ll come sit with you in a few minutes, okay?”

You were going to protest again, but a thought shot to the top of your mind. “What.. what about giving me some time? Will you ever?”

He smirked, amused by the obvious irritation you were trying to hide. “I will after we order lunch, alright?”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“You’ve been super busy all day.” You reminded him.

Harry licked his lips and smiled. “I’m at work, love. That’s how it is.”

Since you didn’t respond to him, you let him slip away to his desk. He told you to figure out what you wanted so he could order it. After a few minutes of thinking, you decided on what you felt like eating and told him what you wanted. He did the whole ordering process and scheduled it for delivery. You were glad he didn’t want to go out to get lunch like he did most of the time when you were at the office.

“Well, that’ll be here in forty five minutes.” Harry sighed out as he stood from his desk and started the journey to you.

Your heart skipped a beat as you watched him undo two more of his buttons. His eyes were on his shirt as he walked towards you. When he lifted his gaze, he laughed as he saw you practically bouncing on the cushion.

“What’s up with you, missy?” He said through his smirk as he extended his hand to you.

You gave it a hard tug, trying to pull him down. He was too strong to move though. He didn’t make you wait any longer. You squealed as he sat down next to you, his big hands grabbing onto your body. You giggled as he wrestled with you, dragging your body on his lap.

“You made me wait long enough.” You smiled as you grabbed either side of his face and pulled his lips to yours.

He let out a moan as you settled over his crotch and swiped your tongue through his mouth. It was obvious that you were eager and ready for whatever he was going to do. He kissed you for a minute, just soaking in the taste of your mouth and the smearing of your tongue against his. Work was entirely too stressful for him today and he needed this. He needed you just as much as you needed him.

You groaned when he pulled away from your lips. “No, more.” A soft whine fell from your mouth.

He chuckled and lifted a hand to run through your hair, pushing it back from your face. “What do you want to do, hm? I’m letting you decide.”

Your lips puckered as you thought about the different things you could do in the short time. As much as you wanted to do absolutely everything with him, you knew it was unrealistic. You were working with borrowed time, so you had to make your decision quickly.

“Want to use my mouth on you.” You said sweetly, a smile shaping to your lips.

He grinned back, somewhat surprised by your request. He figured you’d want him to focus entirely on your pleasure. His hands gripped your hips, wishing there were no barriers blocking him from your skin.

“That’s all, baby? Don’t want me to eat you out or use my fingers, hm?” He asked with a lift of his brow.

You shook your head, fingers playing at the back of his head. “You gave me something this morning.. I want you this time.”

He lifted his arm so he could check the time on his watch. “A forty minute blow job, darling? Is that all you want?”

“No. That’s just the first thing.” You smirked back as you slid off his lap and dropped to your knees on the floor. You were grateful for the thick rug that laid in front of the couch. As much as you loved doing this to him, it was rough on your knees at times. “Want you to fuck me after.”

Your casual words made him laugh and shake his head in disbelief. He gave you a smile as a response, you already knew he wouldn’t deny you of what you asked for so there was no point in having to verbally tell you. He licked his lips and grunted as you tore his belt from its buckle and undone his pants. You wished you could see him completely bare, but he wasn’t going to do that in the office. He never had and today wouldn’t be any different.

Harry kept his stare fixated on you while you reached into his briefs and pulled his length out. You were pleased to see that it was already rock hard for you. He let out a light moan as you gripped the base, but you stopped before you did anything. You shifted your eyes to his and frowned slightly. He lifted his hips off the couch and tugged his pants down to his knees. It was much easier for you to access what you wanted, and much more comfortable for you both. You smiled when he relaxed back against the plush leather and gave you a nod, instructing you to carry on.

“So pretty when you got y’hands on my cock, baby girl.” He said through a sigh as you started to pump him.

His words made butterflies pop up in your stomach. You used your hand for a little bit before becoming impatient with yourself. You leaned up, one hand bracing on his thigh while the other squeezed the base of his cock. His head fell back as a string of spit spilled through your lips and landed on the head of his cock. Harry returned his eyes to you quickly, he didn’t want to risk missing the perfect scene.

A knot formed in his stomach as you closed your lips around him and started to suck. The sound of you hollowing your cheeks and stuffing your mouth full filled the room. Your head bobbed up and down as you took in a few inches, then pulled back before going even further. Harry was enjoying the vicious cycle you were performing. Your hand switched from squeezing his base to massaging his balls, both of which were just fuel to the fire.

Even though he fucked you last night after you both swapped foreplay routines, he felt as though it had been ages since he felt the warmth of your mouth engulf him. You hummed around his cock as his fingers raked through your scalp, his attempt at trying to keep your hair out of the way was sweet and meaningful to you. He liked to watch and have a clear view, but he also didn’t want you to be uncomfortable or bothered by any obstacles.

“There you go, fuck.” He groaned out in a thick, heavy tone as you took him down your throat, holding yourself still for a few seconds before gasping for air.

A trail of spit connected your lips to the end of his cock as you leaned back, your lungs struggling to keep up. Harry moaned at the glorious sight, it was always one of his favorite things to see - your lips swollen from sucking his cock, spit covering your skin and tears in your eyes from straining yourself. He was in awe at your beauty.

“Fuck, baby doll.. do you want my cum in your mouth?” He took the chance to ask you while your mouth wasn’t full.

You hadn’t realized you were staring at his cock until you shifted your eyes to his. You shook your head and felt a warmth come to your cheeks. “No, in my pussy, please.”

The corner of his mouth lifted as lust filled his eyes. “Alright, whatever you want, baby.”

You fell forward, your tongue running all over his skin. You swiped up from the bottom, already to the slit in his tip. You sent time poking and slurping it, knowing that he loved that. He was falling apart above you, moaning and grunting and cursing in whispers.

“So good f’me, kitten.” The words came in a low rumble, making your heart flutter.

There was nothing you loved more than praise. It made you feel the best kind of pleasure, made your heart skip beats and your stomach drop, it made your brain dizzy and stars fill your eyes.. It was perfect, especially when Harry gave it to you.

You swallowed him whole again, keeping him stuck in your mouth for a few long moments. Harry tapped your jaw, shaking his head at you. You pulled him out, a loud gasp filling the air.

“Baby, don’t hurt yourself.” He sternly said. “Y’know I don’t like it when you hurt yourself.”

“M’not.. I can handle it.” You whined back, sometimes you got annoyed by his over protectiveness. You wanted to shove him as far in as you could, whether it was in your mouth or your pussy.

“Behave, kitten.”

That worked almost too well on you. You nodded and decided it would be best to just listen to him. When your lips returned to his tip, he sucked in a breath and held it, a sign that he was close. You kept going, sucking on the top inches of his cock, making sure to squeeze the lower half as hard as you could. He felt a familiar feeling growing in his stomach. He wanted you to keep going, but he knew he was dangerously close to busting in your mouth. As much as he loved seeing you swallow his cum, you wanted it elsewhere and he was going to honor that request.

The sound of you slurping on his cock was sending him over the edge. He dug his fingertips into his own thigh as he watched your head bob on his cock. There was a string of spit dripping down his length, sliding over his balls, that was driving him mad. He wanted to explode all over your pretty face and watch you wipe it up with your fingers and suck it off, but he couldn’t.

He grunted, sitting up to grab your jaw. “Gotta stop, baby, or m’gonna cum.”

You whimpered as he pushed you backwards. You kept hold of him though and gave him a squeeze. He swatted your hand back and gave you a stern look. He pushed his pants down to his ankles and gestured for you to stand up. A grin swept over your lips as he reached for your body and easily yanked you forward. You squealed as he slid his hands under your shirt to grab the waistband of your leggings. He pulled them down, along with your panties, and tossed them on the couch beside him.

“Mm, look at that pretty pussy.” His eyes were just as hungry as his cock was for you.

“All for you.” You muttered back with a sultry tone, making him smirk and pull you down on his lap.

He spit on his fingers and gently stuck them in your entrance. You gasped at the sudden feeling, but instantly felt a fire spark to life in your gut. You needed him more than you thought.

“Take your time, okay?” He said while looking up at you. His hand was wrapped around his cock, preparing to line it up and guide it into your body.

You gave him a nod and started to sink down on his length. He moved his hand back once he knew he was in place, and quickly grabbed either side of your waist. A soft whine fell from your lips as he stretched you out. Being on top wasn’t necessarily your favorite position, only because you felt like he had less control and couldn’t dominate you as much, but you knew he liked doing it this way so you never complained. Besides, he quickly reminds you that he dominates over you in any position..

“Oh.” You chirped as you went to grasp your own breast but realized it was covered.

His lips curled up as he watched you tug your shirt over your head and discard it on the floor. Instantly, your hand cupped your boob and gave it a tight squeeze. Harry grunted at the sight and leaned forward to take care of the other one. He sucked hard on your nipple, knocking your hand away so he could squeeze the other one. You let him do whatever he wanted, it felt good to you either way.

Your head fell back and you let out a heavy moan. His length was completely lost in you, filling you to the brim with his pulsing cock. You wanted more.

You grabbed his face and pulled him away from your chest, tilting his head back so you could see him. “Please, please, I need you.”

He returned his hands to your hips and immediately started to assist you in lifting and slamming your body on to his cock. With each hard impact, you gasped and moaned to him. He kept the pace steady since he knew you struggled to stay strong during this. You weren’t weak but it was definitely tiring for you. Just as you grabbed onto his shoulder, he shook his head.

“Nuh uh, baby, you can’t wrinkle my shirt.”

“But.. but that means I.. can’t touch you.” You frowned back.

He sighed, this was a conversation you always had to have while doing this in his office. He wished you’d remember. “No, it means don’t grab onto my shirt.. you can hold on to me but don’t ball up my shirt, okay?”

“Okay, I’ll try my best.”

Despite your promise, you were already struggling with the reality of not being able to touch him. It was like torture for you. He’s so close to you, you’re literally on top of him and you can’t touch him. It felt completely unfair, his hands were gripping your body and fingertips glided over your skin. This couldn’t possibly be fair..

Harry watched closely as you kept hesitating to touch his body. It was almost painful to not feel him or hold on to him in some way. You went to grab his shoulder out of instinct as his cock buried deep in you, but you drew your hand back and let out a frustrated huff.

“Get up.” He said almost instantly, making your brows drop in confusion.

“What? What did I do? M’sorry.” You quickly began to apologize, fearing that something you were unaware of happened. Maybe you did something that made him irritated?

“Don’t apologize, darling, you didn’t do anything.” He said with a smile as you stumbled to your feet. You pressed a hand to your stomach, feeling oddly queasy. “M’not gonna watch you suffer ‘cause you can’t touch me.. Go over the couch for me, okay?”

“Oh, okay.” Your frown morphed to a grin and you hurried to the arm of the couch.

Harry laughed to himself as you quickly fell over the arm, your ass perched in the air as your arms folded beneath your head. You both knew that this was a good position. He was able to go deep and you were able to simply relax and lay there looking pretty for him. You obviously couldn’t touch him this way either, but it didn’t matter. You didn’t have to suffer with being so close to him and having access to his body. This way, thrown over the couch with his cock pounding into you, you didn’t even have to worry about touching him.

He smacked his hand against your ass a few times, making you whine and beg for a few more. You were always his dirty girl, even underneath all the cuteness and the perfectionism - you loved a good spanking.

“More, please.” You said again, looking over your shoulder at him.

He squeezed both sides of your ass, pushing your cheeks upward as his cock disappeared into your pussy. He grinned at you, biting down on his lip as his palm landed hard against your skin. You whimpered and gave him a smile.

“Thank you.”

“My kitten loves getting her ass spanked, doesn’t she, baby?” He said, his tone lowered and his eyes dark with lust and sex and euphoria.

“Yes, Daddy. I love it so much.”

There it was. That one simple word, that second name you’ve given him - it drove him over the edge every time. He closed his eyes and just fucked you for a solid minute straight. Your moans circled through the office before floating to the high ceilings, echoes of your squeals and hauntings of your gasps followed. Harry was mesmerized by the sweet sounds you let out. His mind was drifting into the bliss as he was balls deep in your cunt. There was nothing he wanted more right now than you - your body, your heart, your soul, everything. He craved you.

“Fuck, kitten. Such a tight pussy, yeah? And, fuck, so wet f’me.”

Your eyes bolted shut as he splayed his hands on your ass and fucked himself as hard and deep in you as he could. You felt your toes curl and your stomach bubble with excitement. It was becoming overwhelming very quickly, and you knew you were about to let loose. A small gasp slipped out of your mouth as he pounded into you, not wasting a single second.

“M’gonna.. c-cum.” You managed to squeak out a few words.

He heard you, thankfully, and ran his hand down to the small of your back. “Cum for me, baby. Cum on my cock. You’re such a good girl.”

His words pushed you over the edge. Your eyes rolled back and your lips fell apart as your body trembled, your legs shook a little as the orgasm rushed through your body. Your pussy was throbbing, your clit hadn’t even been touched by him, yet it was sensitive as it rutted against the arm of the couch. You fell apart on the leather, your feet went numb as you waited for the blissful high to fade in your head.

As you pulsed around him, your soft skin hot and tight around his cock, he felt his own orgasm approaching. He could tell you were fucked out, but he was so close he just kept going. Within a few seconds, he was spurting ropes of cum deep inside of your pussy, filling with his warm release. You moaned sweetly as it burned through you. Harry let out a heavy groan as he slowly pulled out of you. His cum began to drip out of your hole. He watched as it slowly seeped out. As much as you wanted to taste it, you were too tired to even move.

[a/n: I decided to split this into two parts bc it was super long.. sorry for the long wait for this series update! hope u enjoy]

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